Chapter Text
By some miracle, the suits arrive just before everyone Simon texted is set to arrive at his house. He’d offered to let anyone who wanted to get ready for the dance and prepare their masks to do so at his house, with him and Wilhelm as help.
Going over his risky plan in his head, he opens the box with shaking fingers, pulling out the most beautiful suits he’s ever seen. One dazzling and perfectly tailored suit in Caribbean Blue, Wille’s usual color but the suit that he’ll be wearing tonight in order for his plan to work, and another suit in a pale beige-pink which he’ll make sure Wille wears.
Still holding the suit out in front of him, he feels gentle fingers graze his hips before sliding delicately around his stomach. As if on instinct, he leans back into Wille’s chest, sighing into the other boy.
“What’s this?” Wille asks curiously, leaning his head on Simon’s shoulder to get a better look at the suit he’s holding, and he feels his words starting to slip away from his mind as his brain is replaced with only thoughts of WilleWilleWille.
“Suits,” he manages to say, “for tonight.”
Wille pulls Simon even further into his chest, craning his neck to get a better look at the suit, then notices the Caribbean Blue one in the box as well. “Are these-?”
“-Made by Mr. Elegante?” Simon finishes Wille’s sentence. “Yeah… You said if you ever had an emergency that he’s the first one you would call, and this seemed like a fashion emergency,” he jokes, trying to keep the mood light and Wille’s suspicion away.
“Simon,” Wille says in a hushed voice, making the air crackle with their proximity. Wille traces his chin from his right shoulder, across the back of his neck where he can feel Wille’s breath, to his right shoulder. He feels himself shiver just as Wille says, “you are brilliant.”
He swallows, trying to maintain some composure and says, “this one is yours,” in regard to the beige-pink tailored suit he’s holding in his hands. It nearly slips from his grip completely as Wille presses a kiss to his neck. His entire body goes offline and back on again enough for him to press his own cheek against Wille’s who’s still holding him from behind.
“Why’s the Caribbean Blue one not mine?” Wille questions with a smirk, clearly knowing how much more increasingly difficult it is becoming for Simon to answer.
“He says you usually wear that color, so you shouldn’t tonight to stay hidden,” Simon responds, hating to lie to him but knowing it’s necessary. Needing to see Wille’s face, he turns around in Wille’s arms to face him. Wille loosens his grip for a moment as Simon moves, before he feels Wille tighten it again, resting his hands on his lower back.
Wille nods, reaching up and brushing his hand through Simon’s curls, which makes his body shiver once again. He can’t help the way his eyes involuntarily close, and when he opens them again Wille is gazing at him with an expression so soft that he may drop from Wille’s arms and melt into the carpet.
“I love you Simon,” Wille whispers, leaning in and brushing their noses together. “Thank you.”
“I love you too, so much,” he responds instantly, his brain finally working for a moment, before it blissfully blacks out again as Wille closes the space between them.
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He’s finally snapped out of the dreamy haze of kissing Simon when there’s a knock on the door, signaling people are starting to arrive.
They break apart and he can’t help but feel a little pleased at the way Simon looks slightly debauched, and like he isn’t fully aware of his surroundings yet.
There’s a knock on the door again, and that seems to bring Simon back. “That must be Helen!” Simon says excitedly.
“Wait, Helen?” He asks, “like, bus driver Helen?”
“Yes, bus driver Helen! She’s a friend of my mama’s and I invited her here to help anyone who wants makeup done, because I’m not very good at it,” Simon smiles, and Wille thinks that’s definitely not true. Simon’s good at everything.
Simon answers the door just as Linda arrives downstairs, and soon the whole living room is filled with people preparing for homecoming, decorating masks, doing each other’s hair and makeup, tying ties, fixing bows and straps, shoes, everything. It’s chaotic, and fun, and he’s never experienced anything quite like this.
It’s been just him and his mother for such a long time, there usually isn’t much hustle and bustle from a group like this back at home. A pang strikes through his chest, and he hopes that she’s doing okay for just one more night, before he can make it home early tomorrow morning. He can’t wait to tell her about this, about everything he’s seen and experienced. He looks across the room and sees the curly haired boy he’s fallen in love with laughing and carefully drawing eyeliner on someone. He can’t wait to tell his mother about every- one he’s experienced.
He can’t stand being away from Simon for another second, knowing he doesn’t have much time left with his beautiful prince. He finds Linda where she’s helping tie someone’s tie and asks her to take over Simon’s makeup station for a moment.
He watches as she walks over and gestures for Simon to go to him, to which he sees Simon look up and search the room for him, before beaming when their eyes meet. It makes his heart glow.
Simon makes his way over quickly, and Wille says, “see, I knew you were good at makeup.”
Simon laughs and looks as if he’s going to reach out to touch him, before remembering there are people around, and their cover story of them being cousins would make that a very strange thing to do.
He feels terrible that they have to hide this, or that they had to hide this. It’s nearly over now, and the weight of that fact is threatening to crush him at any moment.
“Come,” he says softly enough for just Simon to hear, then heads off in the direction of their bedroom, smiling to himself at how he doesn’t need to check if Simon’s following him because he knows he is, before it turns to sadness.
When they reach the room, step inside and lock the door, Simon reaches for the blue suit to get changed but Wille reaches out a hand on Simon’s arm to stop him.
“We need to get ready,” Simon says to him, looking confused.
“I know,” he sighs, wishing they could just prolong this night together forever. “I just… I’m leaving in the morning, and I want to give you something.”
He sits down on the bed and Simon immediately sits down next to him, reminding him of that night the first week they met, where he had cried and Simon had held him.
Suddenly it all feels too much and the added weight of Simon’s gaze isn’t helping. “Close your eyes,” he says, and Simon doesn’t even ask why, he just complies, gently shutting his eyes.
It takes a moment before he’s able to tear his eyes away from studying Simon, gazing at all of him, trying to commit him to memory. He doesn’t know how bad things have become in his country. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to return here, or if he’ll ever see Simon again.
He reaches up to the back of his neck, and fiddles with the clasp of his cross necklace, undoing it and taking it off his neck, holding it in his palm. He stares at it, the memory of his mother giving it to him coming back to him.
Before that he doesn’t remember a single day of his life where she didn’t have it on. It had been given to his mother by his father, making it a piece of his family that Wille still got to see and remember everyday, even after his father’s death. His mother swore it brought protection and luck, and kept the bad spirits away.
“Wille?” Simon murmurs eventually, not opening his eyes but coaxing Wille to speak, which he finally does.
“Hold out your hand,” he requests, and Simon does.
He holds the cross necklace in his fingers for one last moment before pressing it into Simon’s palm and closing Simon’s fingers around it.
Simon opens his eyes and unfurls his hand, looking down at what Wille just placed in it. He watches as Simon’s eyes widen in surprise, jolting from the necklace to Wille’s face, and Wille smiles.
“What?” Simon questions, “I don’t understand.”
“It’s yours,” he replies, chest warming with the confidence of his decision. He wants Simon to have it. He needs Simon to have it.
“But- I-” Simon stutters, “but you told me your mama gave this to you the last time you saw her! Wille, I can’t-”
“-you can ,” he says, taking the necklace from Simon’s palm that’s frozen in surprise, and scooting until he’s kneeling behind Simon on the bed. He places the small silver necklace around Simon’s neck, marveling at how the dainty cross shines against Simon’s smooth, golden brown skin. He rests his hands at the base of Simon’s neck and feels him inhale a shaky breath as he fastens the clasp and lets go.
As soon as he releases the necklace, Simon turns around to face him. His eyes contain so much love, and passion, and absolute adoration behind them that Wille struggles to believe this isn’t some sort of dream. Although he doesn’t think he could conjure this image of Simon sitting before him, looking at him in that way, with his mother’s cross hanging around his neck if he tried.
“Wille,” Simon whispers out into the quiet like a prayer, and he reaches out to take Wille’s hands.
“It brings protection and luck, and keeps the negative spirits away,” he says, and Simon nods as if Wille just told him the greatest secret of the universe.
In an instant, Simon lunges himself forward, climbing into his lap, his eyes shining with tears as he reaches up to hold Wille’s face in his hands. “I love you,” Simon whispers, brushing his cheek and pressing their lips together for a kiss filled with overwhelming yearning and desire.
“I love you,” he says back when they finally part, just enough to breathe but close enough he can still feel the ghost of Simon’s lips against his. He tips his forehead against Simon’s and the other boy sighs, the scent of satsumas and devotion dancing between them.
He wonders the picture the two of them make; a boy sitting in the lap of another boy, clinging desperately onto each other, breathing each other in with their foreheads resting against one another, never wanting any part of the other to let go, the air seeming to crackle and spark around them. He knows they must be a sight to see.
He drops his head onto Simon’s shoulder and Simon exhales and holds him tighter.
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As he wraps his arms tighter around Wille and holds him impossibly closer, he tries not to think about how much he’s going to need all the luck and protection he can get from this necklace in just a few hours.
“Thank you, Wille. It’s beautiful,” he says, regretfully unraveling himself from where he’s been clinging onto the other boy. As he lets his arms fall away from his body, he presses a kiss to Wille’s cheek, then nose, then lips, smiling to himself as Wille both squirms away from where it tickles and leans into the touch.
“We should probably get ready now,” Wille points out with a sigh, both boys not wanting to leave this room but for different reasons.
“We should,” he replies, climbing off the bed and heading to put on his suit. He picks up Wille’s and tosses it to him, trying to focus on getting himself ready and not being distracted from how incredibly hot Wille looks putting on a suit.
He steps in front of his mirror, struggling and failing repeatedly to tie the stupid bow tie. Curse it being so silky. He’s certainly never worn anything this expensive before, and granted, he doesn’t even have any clue how much fancy custom suits from a royal suit designer would cost.
Absorbed by both his attempts to tie his bow tie and his wandering thoughts, he doesn’t see Wille come up behind him until he’s locking eyes with Wille’s reflection in the mirror.
“Here,” Wille says, “let me.”
Simon turns to him and involuntarily holds his breath as Wille expertly ties it in an instant. He straightens it out, and Simon finally exhales as Wille begins trailing his hands from the bow tie, to his shoulders and down the sleeves of the suit jacket.
“You look incredible,” Wille says, and Simon laughs.
“I was about to say the same for you.”
Wille smiles at him and asks, “ready to go be a prince for a night?”
Simon nods. “Good thing I somehow pulled a real one to show me how.”
Wille shoves him lightly in the chest as a rebuttal just as they reach the bedroom door. He opens it and they step back out into the living room. Everyone’s nearly all ready now, holding their masquerade masks in their hands.
“Alright!” Helen says, clapping her hands together and bringing the hectic chatter of the house down to a low hum as soon as she sees the boys step out of the bedroom. “We’re all ready, let’s go. Everyone hop on my bus.”
“Wait, you got her to let us all ride there on her bus?” Wille whispers excitedly next to him, and he proudly nods, laughing internally at how the prince who once didn’t have the slightest clue about riding a bus is now excited to go to the homecoming dance with him on one.
When they arrive at the dance and the bus pulls up to the curb, the excitement and anticipation glimmer in the air like fireworks. One by one they step off the bus in their colorful, glittering, decorated masks, feeling all the eyes of everyone who’s already arrived watching them.
The group of them continues strutting in, and Simon sees Chelsea getting out of Donny’s convertible in a bright pink dress and matching silver and pink tiara, muttering “Masquerade masks? No one said anything about masks!”
He feels Wille chuckle beside him, obviously having also heard, and the two watch as she angrily steps out of the car, slamming the door shut, only to realize she’s slammed part of her dress in the door as well.
They pause to watch as she yanks and tugs at her dress, attempts to open the locked car door, and squeals as it doesn’t work.
“Hello!” She shouts, “somebody help me? Anyone? Donny!”
“Should we help her?” Wille asks, and Simon shakes his head and shrugs.
“Nah, I think we’re good,” he replies, knowing he should feel bad about letting her struggle but not being able to feel upset in the slightest. In fact, he may or may not be enjoying this just a little.
She screams as she trips, falling onto the grass when her dress suddenly comes free. He sighs and regretfully heads over to help her up, Wille in tow behind him.
He reaches down to help Chelsea up, and she takes his arm, standing up and wiping grass clumps from her dress. Then, she looks him up and down, straightening her tiara before her eyes finally reach his mask.
“Thank you,” she smiles a flirty plastic smile, her voice sickly sweet. “Do I get to learn who’s under the mask of the boy who saved me tonight?”
He can’t help but snort at that. If only Chelsea knew that under the expensive suit that caught her eye was the bait boy that she’s made fun of for years. She’d surely fall to the ground again.
He shakes his head, and turns to walk inside.
“My first high school dance!” Wille says excitedly as they step through the doors and into the gym that’s decorated with cheap balloons and streamers. The music’s pounding a playlist of songs that have to be at least ten years old, but everyone’s hopping around and dancing nonetheless.
Their whole group disperses to go get drinks, dance, and meet up with their friends, taking off their masquerade masks for the time being. Their statement’s been made. He tries to calm his nerves and not think about when he’ll need everyone to put on their masks again later tonight.
Right now he should enjoy the dance with Wille, and spend all the time he can with him in case things go wrong. He and Wille hop around to the music together, and he can’t help but laugh uncontrollably, the sound drowned out by the loud music anyway, at how terrible Wille’s dancing is. It’s like a piece of wiggly cooked spaghetti trying to have rhythm.
He tells Wille as much, and earns an indignant sigh from him, which he counts as a win. “I can’t believe this is my very first dance and I’m being bullied,” Wille says as they find a place to sit against the wall after having danced for a bit.
“Oh please,” he responds. “I’m sure you had countless dances and balls in the palace.”
“Yeah but none of them were fun like this,” Wille says, “and none of them had you.”
He looks at his lap, knowing he most definitely should not kiss Wille right now. “ Could they have me?” He asks, looking straight ahead at his classmates dancing instead of Wille.
“Could they have you?”
“The dances at the palace.”
“You want to come to the palace?” Wille asks, looking surprised.
“No Wille,” he responds sarcastically over the thumping, vibrating noise of the heavy bass in the song that’s playing, “I’d hate to travel to an actual palace that also happens to be my boyfriend’s home. That would be terrible.”
Wille looks a little stunned, and he wonders what exactly it is he said that was wrong. Should he not have asked to see Wille’s home? Is he not allowed there?
“Boyfriend?” Wille says, a smile creeping over his features, and Simon realizes his previous theories weren’t right at all.
“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, “it kind of just slipped out. We don’t have to be-”
“-Of course I want to be your boyfriend!” Wille says a little too excitedly that Simon has to look around quickly to check if anyone heard. Thankfully they’re the only ones in this corner. “But we can’t Simon.”
“What? Why?” His heart feels like it’s being ripped out of his chest and stomped into the ground. Didn’t Wille tell him he loved him? If he did then why wouldn’t-
“-I’m leaving tomorrow morning. And I have no idea what General Kane has done to my country, or what I’ll be walking into. We can’t…”
“It’s okay, Wille, I have a plan.”
“What do you mean you have a plan?”
“It’ll be fine, I promise,” he answers. “I have it all figured out… for the most part.”
“Wait Simon what do you mean you have a plan? What are you going to do?” Wille panics, frantically searching his face.
Thankfully he’s saved by Margaret, one of the people who’d been getting ready at his house earlier, coming up to them excitedly. “I just wanted to thank you both for tonight!” She says. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to come, because I’ve had bad experiences with school dances before and with all the drama Chelsea and Brooke are making about homecoming court, well…”
“Margaret,” Wille says, and Simon wonders how on Earth he knows her name despite only having been at his school for such a short time. “I’m so glad you came tonight. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you so much, and so do you,” she says. The song ends and a new one starts with an upbeat melody that he somewhat recognizes. “I love this song! Let's go dance!”
He’s been needing a chance to sneak away and commence his plan before it’s too late, and now is his chance. “Why don't you two go ahead?” He says, and Wille looks a little confused but doesn’t question it, offering his arm for Margaret to take.
Simon watches fondly from the corner of the gym as the two step into the crowd, dancing together. He sees the principal heading to step up onto the stage, and quickly he finds many of the people from their group, whispering “Okay, everybody, he's about to announce the winner. Let's put on our masks.”
The group nods, and fans out to go tell everyone else with a mask to do the same. As he watches students putting on their masquerade masks, he breathes in deep to calm his nerves. This is it. This is the plan.
He slowly makes his way toward the gym entrance in order to be in position. As soon as he’s almost there, a man dressed in an army green uniform, decorated with medals and pins, as well as a red and gold sash enters the gym surrounded by several other men.
A panic settles deep in his stomach. That’s him. That’s the general who’s taken over Wille’s country, who’s put Wille and his mother in danger.
“Princes everywhere,” he hears the general mutter, and Simon discreetly inches closer to where they’re standing, despite every self-preservation part of his body screaming at him that he shouldn’t. He stops a few feet away, forcing his gaze to stay off of the general and his entourage, trying his best to seem oblivious.
“Ah, Caribbean blue. Beautiful indeed,” the general says, walking up to his side. He’s so close that Simon can feel the general’s breath on his neck, and he suppresses the frightened shiver that surges through his body.
The general whispers into his ear, and Simon’s glad he’s wearing a mask not only so the general mistakes him for Wille, but because he knows his expression must be filled with fear. “Come with me now, Prince, and no harm will come to your friends.”
Simon lets two of the men in the general’s entourage place their hands on his arms, restraining him, and he walks in their grasp out of the gym doors, hyper aware of the general walking directly behind him with a watchful eye.
He’s led through the school in a hurried manner and up onto the roof, where a helicopter is already running, awaiting his, or rather what they think is Wilhelm’s, arrival.
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Wille watches as the principal steps up onto the stage in his gray suit and purple tie, and feels a flutter of excitement in his chest as he watches countless students dawn their masquerade masks in protest.
The principal taps the microphone and an ear piercing shriek from microphone feedback slices through the school gym. The crowd quiets down and he speaks, “Students, may I have your attention, please? I hold here in my hand the name of our 2022 Lake Monroe Homecoming Royalty.”
The crowd goes silent and Wille watches Chelsea shove herself eagerly to the front of the crowd. He searches around for Simon, but doesn’t see him. He assumes that Simon found Ed or another one of his friends in the crowd or something, and turns his attention back to the principal.
“And the winner is… Prince Wille Gonzalez!”
Loud cheers and applause erupt throughout the gymnasium, and he sees Chelsea’s face crumble in disgust. His first thought is that he hopes Simon’s seeing this too, because he’d definitely find it funny.
He walks through the parted crowd, making his way to the stage, and can’t help but smile when the crown is placed on his head. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to wear anything familiar.
“Thank you,” he begins his speech, “Since I've been here, I've learned many wonderful things. Most importantly, I've learned about friendship and loyalty and trust. And that those are not things that are just given, but things we must earn. So I want to thank Simon Eriksson for teaching me these things. And for being my friend.” He pauses, feeling tears in his eyes for all the memories they’ve gotten to have, and all the ones they may never be able to. “So Simon, where are you? Come on up here.”
He waits, but there’s no movement from the crowd. Everyone begins murmuring to each other, all looking around searching for Simon. He searches for the curly haired, sparkling eyed boy he’s come to love, but he doesn’t spot him. He isn’t here. Wille knows he isn’t. From day one he’s always been drawn to Simon like a magnet, his eyes finding Simon's even when he didn’t mean for them to. But now, Simon isn’t there to look back.
Eventually he thanks the audience again and the music starts back up. He rushes off the stage, straight toward Ed, who he had been able to spot.
“That was so beautiful, Wille, congratulations!” Ed says to him as he approaches.
“Thank you,” he replies, knowing he sounds more panicked and breathless than he should. “But I need to find Simon. Have you seen him?”
“No, sorry,” Ed replies with a shrug, “I figured he was with you.”
Wille shakes his head and Ed looks worried. “It’s okay,” he answers, “I’ll find him.”
Panicked, he rushes through the hallways of the school that’s come to be so familiar to him, and out the doors to the courtyard. “Simon!” He calls out to no answer as he speeds along the school grounds, darting his head around to search in every direction.
“Hold it right there, Prince!” He hears Chelsea’s voice shriek out into the night. She stoops up to him as he turns around. “My crown. Hand it over,” she demands.
“What?” He asks, head so caught up in worrying for Simon that he doesn’t hear what she says.
“You’re not going anywhere until I get that crown.”
She must have been prepared for more of a protest, because her eyes widen in surprise as he immediately grabs the crown on his head and throws it at her, turning back around to continue on his search. How could some stupid piece of plastic mean anything to him when the boy he loves is missing?
He decides to climb to the roof, thinking that perhaps if he has a high vantage point and Simon is walking in the nearby area, then he’ll be able to see him.
When he climbs the stairs and pushes open the door he’s met with a terrifying sight. Simon is being led roughly toward a helicopter, with General Kane in tow.
He’s yelling before he even can register his mouth moving. “General Kane!” He shouts into the night, and the General turns to look at him, his expression turning from harsh to shocked for a brief moment.
He sees Simon whip off his mask, dropping it to the ground and shaking his head with warning, and it finally dawns on him. This is why Simon had been so adamant about the mask protest idea, and about wearing the blue suit, so he could swap places with Wille.
His stomach drops, but despite the fear, a realization breaks through. Simon organized all of this. Simon put his life at risk to protect him, all because he loves him. But he cannot let this happen. He doesn’t care what happens to himself as long as Simon is safe.
“Well,” General Kane barks out frustratedly as Simon’s mask drops to the ground, “it appears as if everyone wants to be a prince. Unfortunately, it is time for the masquerade to end.”
“What are you doing?” Simon asks, looking more panicked than Wille’s ever seen him. “The plan was working perfectly!”
He steps up as close as he can to Simon, before the group of guards stops him. “This was a very brave plan,” he replies, willing his eyes to stop watering. “But this is my fight, not yours.”
“You don't have to go with them!” Simon pleads, his voice breaking mid sentence which forges a crack deep inside his heart.
“Enough!” The General shouts between them, turning to Simon. He wants to dive between them, tackle General Kane to the ground and tell him to never, ever , so much as look at Simon again. He can’t though, because he can’t risk Simon’s life for his impulsive actions. “As the Prince so eloquently pointed out, this is not your fight. Step away boy, and leave the Prince to us.”
He steps toward the General and the other uniformed men, allowing himself to be led toward the helicopter. As he passes Simon, he allows his eyes to trace as much of his features as possible in case this is the last time he’ll ever get to, before he’s shoved roughly forward.
When he arrives a few feet from the helicopter door, he turns around, expecting to see Simon looking as distraught as he feels. Instead, he’s met with a reassuring, and dare he even say confident nod from Simon. Confusion courses through his veins but he isn’t given time to unpack what the hell is going on, because as soon as he and the General are close enough to open the helicopter doors, they open themselves and Linda and another agent who he recognizes from the program hop out of it.
“General Kane,” Linda’s confident voice cuts through the tension. “Good to see you again.”
“What is the meaning of this?” The General stumbles over his words in anger and loss. “You are interfering with official business of the sovereign land of Costa Luna!”
“Maybe this will fly in your country, but, here, it's called kidnapping. We're turning you over to the international authorities,” Linda responds, as several more agents drop in from nearby buildings, surrounding the General.
As the General struggles, Linda speaks again, “How does it feel to be brought to justice by two sixteen year old kids, General?”
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"I can't believe you would do this for me,” Wille rushes to him as General Kane is being arrested. Simon lets himself be wrapped up in Wille’s embrace, finally exhaling for what feels like the first time all day.
“That's what princes do,” he says into the fabric of Wille’s suit.
“You are truly a prince now, Simon Eriksson,” Wille says to him as they break apart from the hug. “You always were.”
Once the General is packed into the helicopter and flown off, he sees his mama angrily walking toward him at a quick pace.
“Oh, I'm in so much trouble,” he mutters and Wille looks confused.
“What were you thinking, Simon?” His mama demands as soon as she’s within earshot.
“I was thinking I'd be perfect bait. Get it? I'm Bait Boy?” He says, attempting a joke to help diffuse the situation.
“Why didn't you just come to me?”
“Mama, you would have never let me do it.”
She sighs, “Do you know what it is like to get a text from your child saying that you and more agents should arrive at his school as quick as possible, because he’s being taken by the General of a foreign country!”
Wille’s head snaps back and forth between him and his mama. “Did you actually text her that?” Wille questions, eyes wide like saucers.
He looks at the floor and shuffles his feet, the weight of both their gazes far too heavy for him. “Yeah, I may have texted get here as quick as you can, about to get kidnapped by General Kane, bring backup .”
“Simon!” Wille admonishes, and all he can do is shrug.
“Don’t ever do anything like this ever again,” his mama says, pulling him into a hug. “You’re lucky I was able to make it here."
“You're always there for me,” he responds, and he feels his mama squeeze him tighter. “You rescue princes. That's what you do.”
When his mama finally lets go, he heads back over to Wille, who reaches out to hold his hand. They turn back to look at his mama, who’s raising an eyebrow at them.
“We’re… um… we’re sort of boyfriends,” Simon stutters out
“Sort of?” His mama questions, eyes bouncing between them, making Wille laugh.
“We are boyfriends, it’s true,” Wille says, the laughter still present in his voice. “And, I would like it if you and Simon would come to my coronation.”
“What?” He asks, “really?”
“What do you mean ‘really’?” Wille’s laughing at him again. “Of course I want you there!”
Simon nods and before he knows it, two weeks later he’s arriving at the Royal Palace of Costa Luna, decorated in roses, flags, and constructed of a beautiful beige stone.
“You live here? ” Simon can’t help but gasp as he enters the palace, following behind Wille.
“Yeah,” Wille says, looking adorably bashful. “Umm..” he begins.
Wille abruptly grabs Simon’s hand and squeezes it so hard that Simon says, “Ow.”
“Sorry!” Wille winces apologeticly, loosening his grip but then nervously playing with their fingers that are intertwined. “I just umm… do you think that one day you’d want to live here too? Maybe?”
Simon stops walking, his legs unable to function any longer as it is taking all his brain power to comprehend what Wille’s saying. Once he does, an idiotic smile passes over his features, and he involuntarily smiles harder as Wille’s face mirrors him. He understands the weight of what Wille’s asking, but for some reason it feels like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever done to nod yes.
Wille giggles and then grabs him, pushing him up against the nearest wall, and kisses him against it so ardently that Simon nearly knocks over the bust of whatever royal is propped on the pedestal right next to him.
“Come on,” Wille says, breaking away from the kiss abruptly and tugging on his hand. "The coronation’s tomorrow and I’m exhausted.” Simon follows Wille into his immensely grand bedroom, and is pulled down onto the bed. He wants to make a joke about the palace, or the room, or how insane this all is, but then Wille grabs him and pulls him tight to his chest as they lay down, and he doesn’t manage to keep his eyes open long enough to do so.
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“I present to you, Wilhelm Montoya Fiore. King of Costa Luna.” The crown is placed on his head and cheers erupt from the people of Costa Luna, filling the palace and the grounds outside.
Despite the thousands of people in the audience, his eyes immediately find Simon’s, as they always do. He sees the cross necklace that his mother gave to him, and that he gave to Simon, reflect in the sunlight against Simon’s collarbone, and his heart flutters in his chest. He’s noticed Simon hasn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to him.
Wilhelm knows that it’s far off in the future, and he has no idea what that journey will look like along the way, but when his future prince, no, his future king wearing his cross necklace smiles at him from the front row, he knows everything will be just fine.