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Wilhelm yelps as Erik pokes him in the side.
“Hey.” Erik grins.
Wilhelm turns around to face him, closing his computer and finagling with the chair he’s sitting in.
“Morning.” Wilhelm says. “Happy Birthday, by the way,” he adds.
“Thank you,” Erik says, grinning.
“We’re doing a special dinner tonight, right?” Wilhelm asks.
Erik nods. “But…” He starts.
“Yeah?”
“I want to do something rebellious.”
Wilhelm’s eyebrows are nearly lost in his hairline.
“You?”
Erik glares at him.
“Yes, me. You only turn eighteen once. And I don’t mean like, commit arson or anything.”
Wilhelm snorts.
“I meant like, sneak out for a late night drive and get junk food or something.”
“Mh. Sounds kinda tame.”
Erik raises an eyebrow.
“What do you suggest, then?” He pauses, before grimacing and adding “That’s not illegal or going to cause a major scandal.”
Wilhelm shrugs, trying to think of a time where his older brother wasn’t the image of perfection.
Oh. Huh.
“Remember the time when you were like…” He pauses to think. “Eight? And we saw that shop in the big courtyard near the giant church? In Vienna?”
Erik huffs a laugh. “Stephansplatz? Be more specific, Wille, because there are a lot of shops in Stephansplatz.”
“Uh, the one that did ear piercings. And you asked Mama if you could get the little hoops, and she said no.”
Something clicks in Erik’s mind.
“Yes, I remember.”
He wrinkles his nose.
“Are you sure? That seems awfully… permanent?”
Wilhelm shrugs.
“Worst comes to worst and we have to take them out, the holes should close in a few weeks, max.”
Erik raises an eyebrow at him.
“One of my friends at school got her ears pierced and was talking about it a lot.”
Erik nods, pulling up
“Okay. I can probably find a place where we can get it done before tonight. Yours too?”
Wilhelm nods. “Sure, why not.”
“Cool. Meet me in the garage after dinner?”
Wilhelm nods. “I can’t believe you’re not trying to meticulously plan this or get us to do something more responsible.”
Erik shrugs.
“You only turn eighteen once.” He grins. “Gotta make the most of it.”
“And you should drag your fourteen year old brother into your shenanigans?” Wilhelm grins.
Erik laughs. “Touche.”
—
As promised, Wilhelm sneaks away to the garage after dinner, having changed into casual clothing.
Erik is waiting for him in front of one of the cars.
“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Erik shrugs. “You only turn eighteen once.”
Wilhelm wrinkles his nose. “Did August put you up to this?”
Erik grins sheepishly. “He might’ve suggested something in the vein. Except I didn’t really want to go to a club, so we’re doing this instead.”
Wilhelm laughs. “Of course you’d turn down clubbing with your friends to go get your ears pierced with your little brother.”
Erik shrugs, starting the engine.
—
Erik parks the car and Wilhelm hops out, looking around.
Erik swings the door shut and points at a tattoo parlor across the street.
Wilhelm stares, incredulous.
Erik shrugs. “One of August’s friends recommended it. Apparently needle piercing is more sterile than gun piercing, and this is the only nearby place that does needle piercing.”
Wilhelm laughs, throwing his head back.
“Of course, on the one night you want to be rebellious, you also research the safest method of doing so.”
Erik shrugs again. “I don’t hear you complaining, Wille.”
Wilhelm doesn’t respond.
Erik pushes the door open, walking inside.
Wilhelm follows.
“Hello.” Erik greets the turquoise-haired person sitting at the front desk.
“Hey! How can I help you?” They ask.
“I believe someone booked an appointment for two, at 9:30?”
“You booked an appointment, too?” Wilhelm whispers.
Erik shrugs again.
“Yes, I do see that appointment. That chair over there, we’ll be right with you,” they say, pointing at a seat in the corner.
Erik and Wilhelm nod.
“What happened to being irresponsible?” Wilhelm asks as they walk over.
“Hey, I said rebellious, not irresponsible. There’s a difference,” Erik jokes, elbowing Wilhelm gently.
“Fine, fine.” Wilhelm acquiesces.
Erik gestures to the chair. “Who’s going first?”
“You first, it’s your birthday.”
“Sure.”
They’re interrupted by the by the blue-haired person walking over to them, a rack of studs in their hands.
“Hey! I’m Ash, and I’ll be doing your piercings today. If I could get each of you to choose a set of starter studs, that would be great. You’ll have to leave them in for about six weeks, so keep that in mind.” They rub their hands together, before continuing. “I’ll leave you two to choose.”
Wilhelm and Erik nod, and Ash leaves them.
Wilhelm pushes the rack towards Erik.
“You first.”
Erik’s eyes scan over the rows.
He settles on a small pair of black diamonds.
“Here.” He hands it to Wilhelm.
Wilhelm picks a pair of silver ball studs.
“What do you think?” He asks Erik.
“They’re nice,” he says.
They wait until Ash gets back.
“Who’s first?” They ask.
Erik raises his hand.
“The chair, then please.”
Erik obliges them, sitting in the chair.
Wilhelm stands to his side.
Ash takes wipes down Erik’s ears in alcohol. Taking a toothpick and coating it in ink, they draw a dot on the lobe of each ear. They check the distance with calipers.
They hand him a mirror.
“Do these look okay?”
“Great, thank you.”
They nod, and leave, returning with a tray of materials.
They grab his left ear with a pair of pair of tongs.
“Should I count down or just go for it?”
“Just going for it is fine.”
They nod, and pick up the needle.
Erik looks away.
He flinches slightly.
“Done,” they announce, threading the stud in.
They do the other ear.
Erik sits up, letting Wilhelm take his place.
Ash repeats the same steps, this time with the silver ball studs.
Wilhelm and Erik grin at each other, following Ash back to the front counter.
“Wonderful,” Ash starts. “Now to ensure that these heal properly, make sure you disinfect the wound three times a day, using…”
They slide two bottles of saline solution over the counter, continuing instructing the pair on how to care for the piercings.
Erik and Wilhelm nod, thanking them. Erik pays, and they go back to the car.
They sit for a few minutes, Erik leaving the engine off.
“Mama is going to freak out tomorrow,” Wilhelm mumbles.
“Maybe,” Erik admits, shrugging. “It was fun though.”
He turns to grin at Wilhelm.
“It was,” Wilhelm admits, a small smile gracing his face.
Erik starts the engine, and they drive back to the palace.
—
As it turns out, their mother does freak out.
Well, the queen of Sweden never freaks out.
Rather, is uncharacteristically aggressive and distressed.
She forces Wilhelm to take the studs out, and gives Erik a withering look, telling him to do the same.
—
Wilhelm sits on the bathroom counter as swipes a cotton pad with saline over the now-open wound.
He turns to look as he hears the door open.
“Hey.” It’s Erik.
“Told you she’d freak out.”
“I know.” Erik gives him a sympathetic smile.
“Are you gonna take yours out?”
Erik nods.
“Why?” Wilhelm asks. “She can’t force you to.”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t feel fair for you to have to take yours out. Besides, she’ll nag me about it for ages if I don’t, so it’s just easier this way.”
Wilhelm raises an eyebrow.
“What happened to reb-“ he flinches, as the saline contacts the fresh wound. “What happened to being rebellious?”
“Like I said, you only turn eighteen once. But I’m eighteen, so now I put the prince face back on.” Erik says it with a monotone voice, forcing his expression to remain flat as he unscrews the backings on one of the studs.
Wilhelm stares at him.
—
The next morning, Wilhelm checks the piercings.
He finds the holes closed up, the area still red.
He sighs, and puts the studs in a small box on his desk.
—
Simon pets the now-sixteen Wilhelm’s head.
After a few minutes, he brushes a fingertip over the shell of his ear, down to the lobe.
Wait.
He leans down to inspect it, finding a small indentation.
“Did you have your ears pierced?”
Wilhelm nods as best he can, shifting onto his stomach to face Simon.
“Yeah, when I was fourteen, Erik and I went together, to celebrate his eighteenth birthday.”
Simon’s face falls.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Wilhelm says. “Can you keep doing that?”
Simon nods, and begins to run his fingers through Wilhelm’s locks again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Simon asks.
“The day?”
Simon shrugs.
“Sure.”
“Well, he only did it because August suggested that he do something rebellious,” he starts.
Simon snorts.
“Originally, August suggested they go to a club. But instead, Erik asked me if I wanted to go on a midnight drive with him.” He continues. “I remembered that when we were little, Erik had wanted to get this set of small hoop earrings, so I suggested that we get our ears pierced.”
Simon nods.
“He liked the idea, and we went. Except…”
Wilhelm laughs at what he’s about to say.
“On the day he decided to be rebellious, he also researched the safest method of getting your ears pierced, and booked an appointment.”
“Really?” Simon asks, incredulous.
“That was my reaction!” Wilhelm exclaims. “And when I called him out on it, he said there was a difference between being rebellious and irresponsible!”
Simon laughs.
“But yeah, we went to a special place that did it with needles, because he insisted, and he got a pair of black diamonds and I got silver balls studs.”
Wilhelm pauses.
“Hold on.”
He gets up, reaching over to his desk, grabbing a small red box. Lifting the lid off, he shows it to Simon.
“When we got home, Mama forced us to take them out, but I kept mine.”
He closes the box, leaning against Simon.
“I think Erik kept his, too.”
Simon grabs his hand.
“I’m sorry, Wille.”
“Nngh.” Wilhelm buries his face in Simon’s hoodie.
Simon stares at the wall.
“Hey,” he starts.
“Yeah?”
“How do you feel about a distraction?”
Wilhelm raises his eyebrows.
“If something can distract me from the imminent sex-tape crisis, I will be very impressed.”
Simon huffs a laugh.
“I don’t know if this will, but do you want to re-pierce your ears?”
He softens his voice.
“You know, in light of the whole Erik thing.”
Wilhelm is silent.
“Sorry, sorry, I- I didn’t realize how insensitive that might’ve been, especially since he’s not yet, just-”
Simon shakes his head, trying to prevent himself from saying anything else stupid.
“Sorry.”
Wilhelm shifts.
“No, it’s fine.”
He pauses, thinking.
“I’d love to.”
Simon grins.
—
They bike to the same tattoo parlor.
—
It was less painful than last time, Wilhelm thinks as he clings to Simon, riding back to Hillerska.
Simon now sports a tiny pair of diamond studs.
Wilhelm picked a pair of small black diamond studs.
The same pair Erik chose.
He’s not dead, Wilhelm knows, but the chances he’ll make it out of the coma are slim.
Like, less than ten percent slim.
He shakes his head, trying to get the thoughts out.
He hugs Simon as he departs for the dorm.
“Thank you,” he whispers before he pulls away.
Simon gives him a soft smile.
“Of course.”
—
When Wilhelm shows up at the palace the following Saturday, his mother gives him a pointed stare after she sees the earrings.
“I’m not pleased, but at least you chose something relatively sensible,” she says, before moving onto the script for his interview.
—
Five minutes before Wilhelm’s interview is set to begin, they get a call from the hospital.
It’s a miracle, they say.
Nearly defying all reason, they add.
And the universe must be in a good mood today, because the miraculous survival of the crown prince is probably the only event short of a war breaking out that would warrant the cancellation of Wilhelm’s interview.
They head to the hospital straight away.
—
When Erik has finished his tearful reunion with their parents, he looks around for Wilhelm.
He grins when he notices the earrings, pointing at his own ear.
A question.
Wilhelm nods, before running forward for a hug.
—
Erik asks about the studs again when he’s released from the hospital, sitting on a couch in the palace.
“So,” he asks. “When’d you get those done?”
“Um, about a week ago,” Wilhelm answers.
“Really?”
Wilhelm nods.
“Why?”
Wilhelm tries to keep his expression even.
“Someone…” He tries again. “Someone suggested it.”
“Someone?” Erik raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, someone.”
Erik grins. “The same someone from the day at school?”
Wilhelm groans. “Maybe.”
Erik grins wider. “Do tell. What’s his name?”
Wilhelm gapes.
Erik blinks, then presses his lips together, understanding and a look of “oh shit” passing over his face.
“Sorry.”
He shakes his head.
“I never heard or said anything. Sorry, what were you saying?”
He puts a smile on his face.
“What the fuck?” Wilhelm’s eyes are bugged out.
“Sorry?” Erik asks, smile still plastered on his face.
“Please tell me you didn’t find out through the sex tape,” Wilhelm says, as his shoulders begin to visibly rise and fall.
Erik’s eyes go wide.
“I-“ He blinks. “Excuse me, the what now?”
“Oh thank god,” Wilhelm throws his head back in relief. “His name is Simon.”
Erik makes an excellent impression of a fish.
“I’m sorry, can we go back to when you implied that you’re in a sex tape?”
Wilhelm says nothing, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
“Search up ‘Crown Prince Sweden,’” he tells Erik.
Erik cringes as the results pop up.
“Well shit,” he finally says.
“Yeah.” Wilhelm nods, pausing.
“But hold on, can we go back to the moment when you said ‘he’ having apparently not seen…” He gestures at his phone. “That?”
He continues.
“How did you know?”
Erik just shrugs.
“You were not subtle as a six year old. Or a twelve year old, for that matter. I wasn’t sure, but I saw you stare at the kid in the choir.” He gives Wilhelm a pointed look. “And then you told me you were going to school to “study” over the weekend.”
He makes air quotes when he says the word ‘study.’
“It kind of just made sense.”
Wilhelm stares at Erik, eyebrows reaching for his hairline.
“I-“ He shakes his head. “You know what, fine. Sure. I can’t believe you figured it out before me, though.”
Erik grins and shrugs.
“But his name is Simon. Same kid from the choir.”
Erik pumps his fist.
“I knew it.”
Wilhelm groans, dropping his face into his hands.
“Don’t make this worse than it already is.”
“Sorry.” Erik does not look sorry.
“Anyway,” Wilhelm continues. “He suggested that I get them re-pierced when-”
Wilhelm presses his lips together.
“Ah.”
“Yeah.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Not your fault.”
“Still sorry.”
They sit for a few more minutes.
Wilhelm stares at the wall.
“Mama let me keep them this time,” he starts.
Erik turns to look at him.
“Since you took yours out because I couldn’t keep mine, it seems only fair that you get yours done again.” He pauses. “If you want to, that is.”
Erik grins.
“Sure.”