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Wille sees his boyfriend, he can't believe himself that he gets to call Simon his boyfriend now, approaching the table full of a variety of drinks and tries to make sense of it with furrowed eyebrows. They only arrived just half an hour ago and Simon excuses himself to go to the bathroom but Simon looks uneasy. He can see the tense muscles on his face; his face hardened at something Wille doesn’t know. Simon pours himself a glass of some alcoholic concoction and Wille makes his way over him to prevent him from doing something stupid. He takes the solo paper cup away from Simon’s hands, which gets a scowling look from Simon. He is surprised.
“This is not non-alcoholic,” he reminds him but Simon takes the cup back from him.
“I know," he says and takes a small sip, wincing at the bitter taste.
“Since when do you drink?” Wille splutters in confusion, not quite believing what he is seeing.
“Since when did you become a fun police?” Simon darts back, laughing dryly, clearly annoyed. “I am just trying to have a good time here.”
“But you don’t drink, Simon.”
“Now I do.” He takes a bigger sip and curses himself under his breath. “Oh, sorry, I am representing the royal house, aren’t I? Maybe I should behave myself.”
“I thought we were going to forget about everything. Just for tonight.” Wille says, with a broken voice. They have been through hell and he thought maybe they could have just one night. He tries to stop Simon. “Can you please stop drinking that? This is not you.”
“Oh really? Are you also afraid that I will turn up like my dad?” Simon hisses, “Just like they say in all those tabloids? Are you afraid that I will be a fuckup who doesn’t deserve you? Well, guess what? That's what everybody thinks anyway.” He drains the whole glass and Wille doesn’t know what to do.
“I thought we agreed we were not going to read all that garbage.”
“As if that just makes all the shit they have been saying about me go away.” Simon scoffs.
“But they are wrong, so wrong, Simon.” Wille pleads while Simon is pouring himself another glass. Wille lays his hand on top of him to stop him from getting trashed because he will regret it when he is able to think clearly. The full glass topples over and spills on the floor while Wille is trying to get the glass away from Simon’s grip and he can see the exact moment when Simon’s eyes are full of rage.
“Stop controlling me.” Simon yells. Simon never yells. He hates it. And now Wille is seconds away from crying. He can’t recognize him anymore. Something is off. There must be something Simon isn’t saying to him. He pulls him by his arm and goes to a more private area.
“I am just trying to stop you from making a mistake.” he tries to calm him down, softly touching the inside of his arm over his white, crisp shirt and rubbing it with his thumb to dissipate the anger so they can talk. Simon shrugs his hand off and Wille stares at him with a blank face.
"No, you are controlling me. You are controlling everything. What I post on social media, how I dress, what to say to people, how to use a fucking fork. I don’t want to represent the royal house or you. I am sick of it.”
“I didn’t know you felt like that. That it was becoming to much.”
“Because you never ask. Because your feelings are above everything else. You are being so selfish and you have no fucking idea. You know what? I just think you are trying to prove yourself to your mommy. You just want to be the one who calls the shots and you are dragging me into it. I don’t think you even love me anymore. Or even you ever did.”
Wille can practically hear the sound of his heart breaking. After everything, that’s what Simon thinks of him? Simon’s eyes go wide at what he said and he takes a step back, finally realizing he has gone too far. “Wille,” he says, broken and agitated.
“I am gonna go find— I really can’t do this right now. I hope you enjoy your night. Don’t let me ruin your fun.” he says and then he leaves, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. He didn’t know when his eyes started to sting that much.
***
Wille decides to find a corner to wallow in self-pity. He immediately went to the bathroom to splash his face with the cold water in the hopes that it would make him stop crying after he left Simon at the back kitchen, which, in some ironic way, was the place where he thought he lost Simon forever after he saw him with his date at the Valentine's Ball. And then Simon kissed him that night and he dared to hope again. But right now, he doesn’t dare.
He sees from the corner of his eyes that Simon is right there, drinking from a red paper cup, only a few steps ahead, dancing—no, that would be an overstatement—standing with Ayub and Sara. Wille catches a few glances but doesn’t return them. He can’t trust himself not to burst into tears but still, he can’t help but look when he thinks Simon isn’t looking. Of course, he looks. Well, first, he can’t help it and second, Simon is clearly still drinking and Wille doesn’t know how much he will be affected since he normally doesn’t so he needs to make sure he is okay. Sometimes people say stupid shit when they are furious but it looks like there is more to it. He doesn’t know what is going to happen to them now. The only thing he knows is that it hurt. It fucking hurt.
Felice, sensing something is wrong, comes to check up on him. It was their first night at a party as an official couple together in the first place so she is worried but Wille waves her away, not really interested in ruining his friend’s night either with his endless problems. Felice is too good of a friend for him. He doesn’t deserve her. He doesn’t deserve Simon, either. Maybe Simon is sick of him, and thinks it is too much to be with Wille. Maybe Wille is too much. And Simon is just trying to find excuses to end it.
He stops pitying himself and gets on the dance floor. He dances to the loud music blaring from the speakers. If Simon can still enjoy himself, he might as well do so. A dark-haired boy, probably a second-year he doesn’t know, approaches him and starts dancing very closely. Wille doesn’t think too much about it at first but the longer the boy looks, his intentions become more clear.
“You wanna get out of here?” the boy says unashamedly.
“You know I have a boyfriend, right?” Wille takes a step back, away from the boy.
“I don’t see him anywhere.” He pretends to look around to make his point. “Trouble in paradise?” the guy smirks, getting into his space and then whispering in his ear. “I always wanted to have a taste of the royal dick.”
“Fuck off, you weirdo,” he pushes him hard but before that, he makes eye contact with Simon, who has just fled the party place all of a sudden. He fights his way out of the drunk and sweaty bodies who fill up the whole room to the exit. He runs after him, trying to see where he went. He frantically looks everywhere and sees a dark silhouette going in the direction of Forest Ridge. He runs and runs and finally catches up when Simon goes into the building. "Simon,” he calls out but Simon doesn’t turn. He turns him by his arm and can see the glassy eyes shining in the dimmed light.
“Simon, please.”
“I am just gonna take my overnight bag and leave,” he keeps walking. He is about to turn into the corridor when Wille stops him with a hand on his arm. “Please, listen to me?”
“What is there to listen to? I knew I was right. Fuck, I can’t believe—”
“It is not what it looks like.”
“Seriously? This is what you are going with? Some fucking cliche excuse? You didn’t even look at me the whole night. You didn’t try to talk to me at all after our argument. You just stopped trying. Just tell me the truth. Just tell me now that you are out and proud, you can have anybody else and you are fucking bored of me. Just tell me.”
“Shut up, oh my god, shut the fuck up." he yells uncontrollably. "You know nothing. You are driving me crazy here.” He grabs the roots of his hair and pulls. How come Simon can just stand there and say these things to him? “The only reason I didn’t approach you tonight was because I wanted to give you some space. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again. I didn’t want to corner you into talking when you were clearly not ready and you are all getting it wrong.” That makes Simon stand still and listen.
“I can’t fucking believe you thought I stopped loving you. That I never did.” he scoffs but his voice trembles in the middle. “That I would want to get with some fucking rando, who clearly doesn’t get the message that I am not fucking interested in him because the only person I want is you. The only person I want to talk to or just sit in complete silence, go on some romantic lake dates, take a nap on stupid hammocks or watch the sunset... Or argue about some stupid things only because I just love to rile him up and listen to his soothing voice when I am anxious or upset or when I think everything seems impossible, is you. How come you question my love when I have done nothing but love you this whole time? That I am fucking trying to give you your fucking freedom back as much as I can?” He can see the exact moment the weight of his words hits Simon and he blinks.
“You still love me? After all the things I told you tonight?” Simon asks, voice shaky, tears running down his cheek.
Wille comes closer to face him and wipes the tears away with his thumbs. He keeps his hands there with a small, hopeful smile. “Do you think I love you so little that hearing you say a few mean things to me would make a difference?”
“Fuck you!” Simon shouts but it sounds like a cry, vulnerable and unguarded. All kinds of emotions are already playing out on his face, and he looks surprised, confused, and scared but elated and hopeful that Wille is going to love him for the rest of his life.
“Do it then, you coward.” Wille tilts his head with a smirk. Simon surges forward, catching his lips with a searing kiss with an inexplicable urgency, as if they are running out of time and Wille is the only oxygen supply he can get. Wille kisses back immediately, his hands finding their way into Simon’s curls. Simon’s hands are on his neck, his thumbs are caressing the skin there softly and Wille is already on cloud nine but then he remembers something.
“Wait, wait,” he reluctantly pulls away and Simon makes a disapproving noise. “How much have you had to drink?”
“I am not drunk, Wille.” Simon attempts to press their lips together but Wille stops him with a hand to his chest. Simon whines childishly for being denied a kiss and Wille chuckles. “How much did you drink, Simon?” he insists. Simon looks and sounds very sober but he needs to be sure.
“Just one,” Simon mumbles and Wille raises his eyebrows in question because he saw him drinking later, after their argument. “I didn’t drink any after you left, and that wasn't even half full and it tasted liked shit. It was just water after that, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he huffs exasperatedly. “You? Are you drunk?”
“No, you know I am not.”
“Do I?” Simon asks, as if he doesn’t know.
Wait, he doesn’t know.
“You know I haven’t had a single drop of anything alcoholic ever since you found me on the football field, right?” He remembered how scared Simon looked that night and Simon told him about his father. He couldn't do that to him ever again.
“Oh,” Simon swallows visibly, surprised at the realization. Wille seriously thought he knew or noticed. “Fuck, I love you so much.” Simon mumbles and Wille almost doesn’t hear it. But he does and it feels so good. It still feels so fucking good to hear after all this time. He presses his lips again on Simon’s, who makes a pleased, needy noise at it. He starts walking them to the hallway but they get interrupted as Simon pushes him to the wall and grinds their hips together as he keeps kissing him. He starts kissing his jaw and his neck but attaches his lips back to Wille’s because Wille starts whining. Simon giggles at the enthusiasm but Wille can’t have it. He slips his tongue in Simon’s mouth, which gets a low moan from his boyfriend.
They are so close to his room, to get inside to do filthy things to each other but Simon slips his leg inside his thighs and Wille almost comes in his pants. Wille starts unbuttoning his own shirt, simply not having the patience anymore, without even breaking the kiss and Simon’s hands go to his chest, wandering his hands on his naked skin and Wille can’t help but let out a needy moan at that. When he is finally done with the last button, he discards his shirt on the floor without even thinking and presses Simon up against a wall. He holds Simon’s right hand and pins him above his head, lacing their fingers together as he can’t do anything but moan against Simon’s open mouth because they are a little out of breath.
His eyes catch Erik's watch on his wrist above Simon's head. The duty, the monarchy, his shitton of responsibilities, being a crown prince and all the other shit that comes with it and he smiles. He can have his way with Simon here and he doesn't mind if anyone sees them. It feels weird. He was so scared that someone would find out about him the morning after Simon dragged his high as a kite ass to his room and Wille had to leave quietly, leaving Simon naked on the bed in his room. He still regrets it to this day. But right now, he almost wants them to see. That Simon is his. If Erik could see him now, would he be proud or would he be upset? Or maybe it is not the time to think about anything else right now. Just fuck it. He has Simon pressed up against him so just fuck everything else.
He leans his forehead against Simon as he begins unbuttoning Simon’s shirt with shaky, clumsy fingers. Now that Simon’s both hands are free, he starts running his hands through all over his hair, massaging his scalp with his nails, which gets a loud whimper from Wille. That’s when Simon stops the motion to look at Wille with big, round eyes.
“Wille,” he whines.
“Yes, baby,” he replies, undoing a few more buttons and starts kissing Simon below his ear.
“We are in the fucking hallway.” Simon pants.
“And?”
“People might see.”
“Let them see. We are not doing anything wrong.” He thinks back to that time when he saw a couple make out in the hallway after he told Simon to forget about it. He was mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram, conflicted but wanting. And then he saw them, careless and full of desire. Then he made up his mind but he never thought they could be as free at that time.
“Are you fucking out of your mind?” Simon half-yells, scandalized.
“I don’t know. I can’t think straight around you.” he says as he tries to finish unbuttoning Simon’s shirt. Why does it take so long, he wonders but he keeps getting distracted as he kisses Simon’s neck, while Simon is also contradicting himself by still wandering his hands around his back, his waist, his belly. It feels like he is burning.
“Stupid buttons,” he huffs, looking at the thing like it is the most offensive thing and Simon giggles adorably in return. In a rush to finish undressing Simon, the remaining few buttons go flying everywhere in the whole hallway.
“Fuck,” Simon curses under his breath and Wille bites his lip not to laugh.
“Ooops.” He slides the shirt off of Simon’s shoulders until it drops on the floor as if nothing happened.
“I hate you. I loved this shirt.” Simon complains, but his words don't match his face as he grins, tilting his neck to give Wille better access.
“I will buy you a new one.” He kisses Simon with a growing desire, and he presses their erections and rocks their hips together while he starts getting a hold of Simon’s nipple and he traces his finger around it with a feather-light touch and that gets an immediate reaction from Simon.
“Is this okay?”
“Mhm hmm. Very.” Simon murmurs above him. He starts stroking it with his thumb and bites Simon’s lower lip and pulls and Simon’s whimpers go much more intense and louder.
“Wille. Inside. Now.” Simon pants, not having the ability to form sentences and Wille feels a little proud. He slips his hands behind Simon’s thighs and lifts him with so much ease that Simon scoffs “show-off ” and Wille grabs and squeezes his ass in retaliation, which draws a sharp breath from Simon. Then, he hooks his legs behind Wille’s back and links his arms around his neck, basically clinging to him as if his life depends on it and finally kisses him again. He peels him away from the wall, only to press him back against the door of his room. Simon’s hands are back on his hair again and Wille never wants to stop.
“You feel so good, baby,” he murmurs against Simon’s ear.
“You too.” Simon whispers back. “But if anyone sees us here, you are so dead. Or if you drop me.” He aims to be threatening, but Wille can see how affected he is. And he can feel how affected he is, too.
Wille laughs, kissing the tip of Simon’s nose. He shifts all of Simon’s weight on his arm and frees one hand to unlock the door and open it. He closes the door with his hip and makes his way to the bed. “Fuck off, seriously, how strong are you?” Simon curses and Wille puts him down gently on the bed with a chuckle and just as he is about to climb to the bed, Simon tells him to lock the door. He quickly does what he is told and crawls back to glue himself to Simon’s body again.
“Hey,” he smiles, as if they are just seeing each other for the first time. It shouldn’t sound so bashful and innocent as if they weren’t full on making out in the hallway where anybody could walk in.
“Hi,” Simon smiles back, trailing the pad of his thumb on Wille’s lower lip slowly and biting his own lip while he is holding Wille’s gaze. Well, Wille is a simple man. He can’t just not kiss Simon’s fingertips. Simon pretty much melts.
“Should I pick up where I left off then?” Wille asks slyly, tilting his head to the side playfully.
“Don’t be a tease.” Simon says as he grinds his hips upward.
“Now who is being a tease?” Wille searches for more friction as he repeats the action, and then, with clarity, he realizes that they are wearing too many layers. “Lift your hips, baby.” And Simon does. They get rid of the unnecessary, offensive layers until they are left with their boxers as they take off each other's pants in a hurried motion. Wille leans forward to kiss him again as his hand comes up to stroke and twist Simon’s nipple with one hand, eliciting a delicious moan from him. He kisses his way down to Simon’s jaw, his neck, his chest, and finally his other nipple. He makes deliberate eye contact with him to ask permission and Simon nods his head eagerly before he starts with tentative licks first and then he takes it into his mouth and sucks. He shoves his hand down in Simon’s underwear and takes him in his hand, beginning with slow strokes while he is busy sucking his nipple.
He kisses his way down, leaving open-mouthed wet kisses all over his chest, his happy trail, and inside his thighs. He finally takes off the underwear and takes him in his mouth. Simon’s breath becomes more shallow and his moans become more frantic as Wille swirls his tongue around the tip before he swallows him as deep as he can go, which is not that deep but he has become more experienced along the way and seeing the way Simon is gripping the sheets hard, he can say that he is doing an okay job. And now Simon is arching his back and covering his mouth with his hand in case it gets too loud, which is a great sign, so maybe he is doing more than okay. He wants to tell him he wants to hear him but he doesn’t want to unattach his lips from Simon’s dick anytime soon. Then he leans forward to take Simon’s hand away from his mouth and leads him to his hair, trying to tell him what he wants with his eyes. Simon stops holding back his moans and guides him with his breathy words, ‘yeah, like that’, ‘do that again’, ‘don’t stop’ whenever he can in between. Wille gets more confident at the praises and he keeps eye contact with Simon while he holds his hips in place and keeps sinking his mouth on his dick until it hits the back of his throat, with so much hunger that he can’t even believe it himself. This is new. He always liked getting his mouth on Simon but it is different this time. Like he can come undone. Like he can reach his orgasm by simply prioritizing Simon’s. He always prioritized Simon’s pleasure, though. That’s what he tried to do anyway. He is a gentleman, after all. His eyes water and he gags when it becomes too much and he pulls back with a cough, saliva dripping from his chin.
“Sorry.” he says sheepishly.
“Fuck, do you know how hot you look like that?” Now that Wille’s eyes see just fine, he can notice how dark Simon’s eyes have turned and he is looking at him just as hungry. So he wraps his lips back around him and picks up where he left off.
He can tell that Simon is close. He is, too. He wraps his hand around himself and with a few tugs and Simon’s moans under him, he comes, even before Simon spills all over Wille’s throat. He still says sorry, even though he basically warned him by calling his name frantically but Wille didn’t mind. Simon goes slack under him as he rides his orgasm out and Wille falls beside him, both of them trying to control their breath.
“That was so hot. You were so hot,” Simon breaks the silence then, kissing him on the mouth and slipping his tongue inside. They never shied away from kissing each other after blowjobs, not even on their first time.
He reaches his desk to take the tissue box and cleans both Simon and himself up, dumping the dirty paper towels by the foot of the bed to deal with them later. He doesn’t want to leave the bed; more precisely, he doesn’t want to leave Simon yet. To be completely honest, they definitely need a shower since it was messier than before but neither of them cares as Simon lies on the crook of his neck and Wille simply breathes him in in a comfortable silence. He knows they have to talk and as if Simon reads his mind, “In the morning, baby. We will talk in the morning.”
“Okay.” he says in a low voice, feeling uneasy that there is this gigantic elephant in the room, which they choose to ignore until the next day. But still, Simon called him baby just now and that means he is still in his post-coital afterglow and maybe there is nothing else to worry about.
“Wille,” Simon whispers his name so softly that it makes his inside go mushy.,
“Yeah?”
“I really wanted to dance with you tonight.”
“Me too.”
“I am sorry I ruined it.”
“It is okay. We will do it next time.”
“Yeah, okay, next time.”
“Simon,” he calls out this time.
“Hmm?” Simon murmurs against his temple.
“I love you.” he says, looking him in the eye and then he closes his eyes, not knowing what he is afraid to see. It is just that he knows that love is not always enough. He is not that naive. Even though he is a prince, he never believed in Disney fairy tales when he was younger. He can feel his throat closing up and his eyes stinging with tears at the possibility of love not being enough. God, how much he wishes it was enough this time.
“I know.” Simon says. He can hear him swallowing hard. But do you really? “I love you, too.” he says, wiping his tears away with his thumbs. Fuck, when did he start crying? This is so embarrassing. Then Simon is kissing him on his eyelids, and Wille thinks they are going to be okay before they doze off to sleep tangled up together.
***
Felice: I came to your room to check up on you last night
You know what I have found in the hallway, you horny assholes??
If I ever have to collect your shirts off the floor ever again
because you couldn’t keep it in your pants for a few more seconds
just to get to your room that’s like two steps away
I will send you two to an early grave
Also, there were buttons scattered in the hallway
What kind of 50 shades of gray kink are you into
Oh fuck
I don’t want to know
I am already traumatized.
Wille: you call that a kink?? lame
Also you watched our video countless times
This is why you are traumatized??
Felice: fuck you Wille seriously
Wille: no thanks I have a boyfriend
Did you pick up the buttons too?
Simon said he loved that shirt.
Maybe I can still fix it
Felice: delete my number
we are no longer friends
Wille: :((
***
“So we have to talk.” Wille whispers to Simon’s curled-up naked body under the sheets.
“Do we?” Simon asks, his eyes closed, his foot going up and down on Wille’s shin suggestively. “Maybe after one more round?”
“Quit stalling, Simon.”
“What if I do that thing you like?”
Wille takes a long breath and curses himself. No, he needs to get his shit together. “I am serious.”
“Fine,” he huffs and opens his eyes, no longer trying to buy himself more time after seeing Wille is determined this time. Yeah, he tried it last night and Wille was fine with it. And then this morning he tried to talk and Simon dodged him, saying he needed to take a shower, and then he was hungry. In every sense. So they got something to eat first and then Simon blew him later and that’s why they are lying on the bed naked right now. Wille is a weak man after all.
Wille puts on a pair of boxers and throws another pair at him. Simon rolls his eyes while putting them on. He then comes over the bed to sit cross-legged, motioning for Simon to do the same thing. He does, but his naked torso is still distracting Wille but he is on a mission right now.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Simon rolls his eyes and Wille can see why. “Okay, let me ask you a question. Do you really think that I don’t love you or that I have stopped loving you? You don’t deserve me? Or whatever other bullshit you maybe forgot to mention last night?”
“That seems accusatory,” Simon says, unimpressed.
“You know what I mean.”
Simon sighs, “No, I don’t really think you don’t love me, no.” He bites his lip anxiously and takes a deep breath before he continues. “But sometimes, I think I don’t deserve you—”
“Simon, that’s not---”
“Do not interrupt me.” he glares and then he adds softly, “Just let me finish, please.”
“Okay,” he says before making a ‘zipping his lips and throwing the key away’ gesture, which makes Simon fight off a grin and fail. Mission accomplished. He nods his head a few times to signal to him that he is listening and that he can continue. And Simon does.
“So, as I was saying, I sometimes think I don’t deserve you because I have been getting very insecure lately. Ever since your speech, the media hasn’t stopped harassing me, digging up any dirt they can find, bringing up my parents’ divorce situation or anything else they can find to belittle me. To make me feel less worthy of love because of my background or my ethnicity. But you already know this.”
Wille’s heart sinks at that and he just waits for him to continue. How did he fuck this up so monumentally when he was so fucking lucky to get not one but a second chance to be with Simon Eriksson? “Don’t look at me like that. I am not blaming you. It is just that-- I have been more affected by this than I let you on. Because I want to be your rock since it’s not been easy for you either. You have been going through so much for me. You have put yourself in the spotlight by coming out, even though you hate it and I know how hard it is for you. I don’t want to be a burden to you but since I am having a hard time carrying this burden by myself, I think that there is a high probability that you will change your mind and leave me for good and I don’t think I can handle that.”
“Simon,” he cries out. He can’t help but interrupt anymore. Simon can get mad at him all he wants. He can’t just sit there and listen to him talk about himself like that. “I am not going anywhere." He can’t help but let the silent tears run down his face. “How can you ever think you can ever be a burden to me for sharing your feelings? I am so sorry for not seeing this earlier. I am so sorry. You don’t have to be so strong all the time. I can be your rock too, I promise. Didn’t we promise each other? No lies between us? Just please talk to me. I love you. I am not going anywhere.” Simon has started crying too, just fat tears running down his cheek in the middle of his speech. They both lean in to wipe away each other's tears with their thumbs. Wille then sways them both to take his boyfriend in his arms and cradles him. He murmurs soft little I love yous into his skin until Simon believes him, until Simon stops crying, until it hurts them less.
“Are you feeling a little bit better?” After Simon’s breakdown, they eventually got up to wash their faces after all the crying and decided it was better to put on some more clothes since their conversation was nowhere near done yet. He blames himself for not seeing how much this really affected Simon and how it is still affecting him. Simon tried to calm him down and he was always good at hiding how he really feels in certain situations and Wille couldn’t do anything unless Simon talked to him directly but still, he blames himself. The only thing he can do is understand him now so that’s why he does.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Simon says, leaning his back against Wille's chest, who is sitting back against the headboard. Wille can’t do anything but wrap his arms around him tighter.
“I have another question, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.”
“Do you think I am controlling you?” he asks, his heart in his throat. Simon hesitates. “I want you to be honest with me, even if I might not like the answer.”
“Yes, in a way.” Simon replies, and Wille’s heart sinks for the second time that day. “Not because you stopped me from drinking, though. That was stupid and I am glad you did something.”
“Okay. But?” he prompts.
“But,” Simon takes a long breath, “I am feeling so overwhelmed with all the things Royal House wants from me. And you are also kind of dictating what they want.”
“How so?”
“Everything you do represents me and the royal house? Ring a bell?” Simon turns his head to face him and Wille is confused.
“You asked me why they were so obsessed with what you post on social media and why it matters so much and that was the explanation. I never meant that I agreed with them. You should be able to think what you think and share what you want to share.”
“Excuse me, what?” Simon shifts in his seat, turning his whole body towards Wille, practically sitting on his lap.
“Yeah,” Wille shrugs. “Since we are in a serious, committed relationship, you are considered to be part of the royal family and everything you do or say will have consequences.” Simon’s face flushes and goes shy and bubbly at the first part and it goes sour as he wrinkles his nose in disgust at the mention that he is considered to be part of the monarchy. He looks inconceivably and inexplicably cute.
“So you don’t want to—”
“No, Simon, why would I want to do that to you, especially when that’s the very thing I hate the most about my life as a prince?”
“Oh.”
“I am just asking for a little compromise here until we can get our complete freedom back. I am trying, I swear. I have already managed to get them to cut down on some of the things on the list you cannot share on social media. I am just asking for time, please. Also, you can wear whatever you want or eat soup with a fucking knife for all I care. Just a little time. That’s all I am asking.”
“Yeah, I can do that.”
***
“Umm, by the way, there is something else you need to know but don’t freak out.”
“What?” His voice comes up higher than he intended, panicking and already freaking out.
“Someone broke my window. Threw a rock at it. Scared the shit out of me.”
“What the hell! We are getting you a security this time. Fuck, I need to make a phone call.”
“Wille—”
“Simon, this is not up for debate. This is for your and your family’s safety. No buts, please.” He frantically looks for his phone until a hand covers his to stop him and he is met with Simon’s doe eyes and small smile.
“I was going to say I don’t feel safe anymore and ask you if that security offer was still on the table.”
“Of course, it is.”
***
"So, another question?”
“You and your questions today.” Simon huffs in annoyance.
“Can I ask you now?”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
“You said something about me trying to prove myself to mommy .” he says, seeing Simon wincing at his own words but he needs to understand. “What did you mean by that and where exactly did that come from?”
“It was just something I read on Twitter.”
“Twitter? Yikes. Really?” Wille pulls a face, to release some tension and lighten the mood.
“I know,” Simon snorts. “I know now. It was basically saying you were doing all of this to spite your mother. Oh, did you know you are also straight and pretending to be gay—their words, not mine—all this time?” he laughs and that makes Wille snort.
“Yeah, right. I am pretending and I am just doing such a good job that I almost came from just blowing you last night.”
“You don’t need to be so crude about it.” Simon hides his face in embarrassment.
“You weren’t saying that last night," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Shut up,” he grins and Wille kisses him as they fall on the bed, wrapped up in each other.
“But seriously, Simon, I beg you, please stop reading all of that garbage because that’s just what it is. Seriously, it is all such bullshit. People are so upset over their pathetic little lives and that’s how they are trying to compensate for it. By throwing off some bullshit comments to make you as miserable as they are. Don’t believe anything they say. I know it is hard not to sometimes because I have been experiencing the same thing my whole life—not that it was harder for me because of it—just don’t believe them. If it really bothers you, we can take legal action about it. I will talk to Farima, but just don’t believe it, please.”
“Okay, I will try. But we can’t really sue them for thinking I am average-looking and mediocre, can we?”
“They said what now? They are idiots, complete idiots. Peas for brains, I swear.” he shakes his head in disbelief, maybe a little dramatically. He knows Simon wouldn’t be that affected by some comments about his physical appearance, out of all the things the media paints him to be. So that’s why he chooses to be silly right now. He just wants to put a smile on his boyfriend’s face. Maybe for the rest of his life.
“You are so beautiful and perfect to me. And finally, I promise you, I am not straight.” He finishes with a slight grin and Simon shoves his shoulder hard, but he descends into a fit of giggles and Wille joins him too.
“Good to know. I wasn’t sure for a second.” Simon giggles.
***
"Hey, if you want to read something about us, why don’t you read fan fiction just like me?”
“You are so weird for that. You know that, right?”
“It is fun. And also, I am getting all of our date ideas from there and there is this series called "100 Wilmon Dates"—that's our ship name, by the way—and I am gonna do every one of them as they update. Oh, I remembered, one time someone made you call me Príncipe in their fic and I couldn’t help but comment as a guest, “Ew, Simon would hate that. With a skull emoji.”
“No, you did not,” Simon laughs as he holds his belly. “You would hate it, too.”
“Exactly,” Wille says with a small smile. “And they replied, I kid you not,” he giggles, “How would you know, anyway?”
“Oh my god,” Simon laughs harder, “if only they knew it was you.”
“Yeah,” he says. “And I apologized because I kind of left a mean comment and sent them a link about more natural Spanish terms of endearments, explaining that “cariño” is also no better because it is a very generic word as it can be used between friends and family and all that but at the end, if they still want to use it, they can because it doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“Of course, you did,” Simon shakes his head disbelievingly in adoration and looks at him with a soft smile.
“Your experience on social media is clearly a lot more fun than mine,” Simon grins, amused.
“Maybe we should start writing fan fiction as well.” He pretends to ponder this as if he is serious. “But wait, it wouldn’t be called fan fiction. Would it be called..." he pauses for a dramatic effect, knitting his brows, "autobiography?”
“You are an idiot,” Simon grins, shaking his head again.
"It's so good to see you smile.” He can't help but confess.
“That was the whole purpose of this, wasn’t it? To make me smile? And also, it was your way of showing me that there are people who support us, like us, who don't hate to see us together?”
It was. “Nope, I don’t know what you are talking about.”
***
“Simon?”
“Another question?”
“No, it is just… You are not your dad.” he says tentatively. “You are not a fuckup, either and you never will be. You really need to remember that.”
“Jesus, do you have to remember every single thing I have said there?” he says, but Wille knows pretty well that he is trying to deflect because, seeing how choked up he sounds, he is getting way too emotional at the words.
“Yes, and I want you to see Boris, too. Or maybe we can go together. If you want. Please–”
“Okay.”
“–don’t say no.”
“I said okay.” he smiles.
“I want you to talk to me about things, too.”
“We are talking.”
“You know what I mean. I want to know if anything gets so overwhelming again.”
“Yeah, okay.” Simon says quickly and Wille raises an eyebrow in question.
“Why are you so easy-going today?” He asks suspiciously. “I thought you would fight me about these things.”
“Firstly, fuck off,” he laughs and then his face turns all serious, “Because if I keep going like this, bottling everything up, I don’t think I will have any fight left in me and I could really use your help.”
Wow, okay. The fact that Simon told him that speaks volumes. “Thanks for telling me that.” he whispers. “Really, thank you so much for telling me that. I will do everything I can. I promise.”
“I know.”
***
“I have a question for you.”
"Okay." Wille chuckles at the role reversal this time.
“Who was he?”
“Who?” he asks seriously, not knowing any idea who Simon is talking about.
“The guy you were dancing with last night.”
“That guy? Nobody, oh my god,” he scoffs. Because that’s the truth, but Simon is looking at him expectantly, and he needs to ease away his worries. “Also, dancing with ?” he clicks his tongue. “That’s a big, fat overstatement. He was simply there, and I was dancing on my own, which is entirely for me to distract myself because you weren’t with me last night.” Does Simon know that Wille is also so fucking scared that Simon will decide it is not worth all the trouble and leave? He probably doesn’t. Maybe he needs to tell him too. Being honest works both ways. So he tells him. With the exact words.
“You are so worth it, Wille. You have no idea.”
***
"Have you been working out lately?" Simon asks with a different glint in his eyes. Wille noticed how much he liked that he could lift him last night. But it looks like it is becoming a thing.
"Why?" he asks, acting as if he is oblivious.
"No reason," Simon swallows and Wille can't help but burst into laughter at that. And then Simon shoves him so hard that he falls from the bed.
"But I did not drop you last night. This is not fair." And Simon hides his face in the pillow and groans.
***
“Anything else I need to know about this guy? What were you talking about? I saw you talking.”
“I will tell you but I am afraid you will chuck another ball at me again.”
“What? Tell me right now.”
“He wanted to hook up.”
“Ex-fucking-cuse me!” Simon yells. “Didn’t he know we are together? What the fuck? What did you tell him?”
“What did I tell him?” he repeats disbelievingly. “I told him to fuck off and then I saw you leaving and I came after you.”
“Good,” Simon breathes through his nose, sounding angry and jealous. Maybe Wille is a horrible person for this but he is getting all turned on to seeing Simon like that. That he gets a little bit possessive, of course, but not when he gets all insecure and flees. How he wishes Simon, instead of leaving, came back to claim him with a passionate kiss on the dance floor. Maybe next time.
Wille tells him what that guy has told him, taking a gamble at this, not exactly knowing how Simon would react. Maybe he will draw himself back again. He hopes not.
“Have a taste of—” Simon repeats the words furiously, with the white-hot jealousy Wille asked for. “He can have a taste of his own dick all he wants because I am going to chop off his dick and shove it into his mouth.” Wille’s dick twitches in his boxers and he bites his lip, looks at his boyfriend with intent but Simon keeps rambling as he doesn’t notice Wille is already half-hard in his boxers. Then he takes in his disheveled looks and understands.
“You are enjoying this.” he says with squinted eyes. “Are you doing this on purpose? To get me worked-up?”
“Is it working?”
“Yes,” he gulps and then he takes notice of Wille’s boner, which doesn't leave any room for imagination but he still asks. “Are you hard?”
“Mhm hmm,” Wille hums.
“All this talk for me to get my mouth on you?”
“Well, that was the idea.”
“Baby, you could have just asked.”
“This is me asking.”
“Yeah, okay. just lie on your back.”
“The only person who can have a taste of me is you.”
“Romantic.” Simon deadpans.
“I am serious. I am yours. I am all yours.” And that is the last coherent thought that leaves his mouth when Simon gets his on him.
***
Felice: sending you to an early grave joke was so insensitive
I didn’t think
I am sorry about that
Wille: it was fine, don’t worry.
I wasn't being fair to you either
I obviously knew you just wanted to help
sorry about that
Felice: it's okay
is Simon still with you
we haven’t heard from you for almost a day
Wille: yes, he is
we are well… “talking”
Felice: so everything okay?
Wille: yes, very okay
Felice: we get it, Wille
you are having lots of sex
no need to rub it in
Wille:😏
Felice: I despise you seriously
by the way, to give you a heads-up
people are talking about you two
they noticed you didn’t talk at all at the party
they have… let’s say… interesting opinions
Wille: maybe you should have left the shirts on the floor lmao
I will make sure to shove my tongue in my boyfriend’s throat next time
Felice: I can’t with you today 🤦
wait, did you leave them there on purpose?
I shouldn't have picked them up??
???
***
Wille is still laughing at the texts when Simon is back from getting them something to eat from the cafeteria. He decided to check on his phone when Simon left. He was too spent to move his body so Simon offered this time. They have spent the whole day holed up in his room, talking, kissing, and having sex, not leaving except for the mandatory bathroom breaks. Simon puts the tray down on the desk and says, “Everybody looked so surprised to see me in the cafeteria today. And I ran into Felice in the hallway on my way out here and she was blushing.” Simon levels him with a confused look at Wille’s silence. “What were you laughing at?”
Wille simply hands him his phone, scrolling up to the first message Felice has sent this morning. Simon reads the whole thing, horrified, his eyes as big as saucers.
“Fuck, we forgot about the shirts.”
“I didn’t.”