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“Honey, I’m home,” Simon yelled in a slight melody into his and Wille’s apartment. Even after all these months, he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that they were actually living together. Wille was living with him. They were living together, in Madrid, in the apartment he’d bought. Wille was-
“You’re ridiculous!” was all that could be heard until footsteps followed, growing louder until Wille was behind him, circling his waist with his arms. Simon moved his hands so he could link his fingers with Wille’s. “You love it.”
“I do,” Wille groaned into Simon’s neck, making the other shiver. He did love it. It reminded him of where he was. He was home. Simon was his home.
“I love you,” Simon whispered back. Wille loosend his grip a little to let his finance turn around and kissed his nose. “I love you, too.” He hadn’t gotten tired of repeating those words yet, he hoped that feeling would last forever.
Then Simon started squirming in his embrace for no apparent reason and Wille just started snickering, looking at his fiance questioningly.
“I,” Simon proclaimed as if he was the best person on earth - Wille would completely agree with that, “have gotten you a gift!” Simon turned back around and held a paper bag out to Wille triumphantly, glowing like the impersonation of the sun. When Wille didn’t move he pushed the bag into his arms, smiling at him expectantly.
“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Wille murmured to himself, barely audible, while already taking the bag properly and peering inside. It was fabric. Some kind of clothing, probably. It had grabbed his attention and he swifty pulled the light blue something out of the bag.
“I thought you might want your own, “ Simon told him stepping closer to Wille holding out the crop top in front of him, “Not that I don’t love you in mine, don’t get me wrong,” his fiance smiled, closing his arms around Wille’s waist from the side, looking at the graffiti text that had been printed on the front, “but this is more your size, little prince.” He emphasised the last two words, that were also in front of Wille’s eyes, printed on the crop top he’d just gotten. The bottom was lined with lace and Wille let his fingers brush against it. Simon got up to his toes, clearly wanting a kiss, but Wille couldn’t stop staring at the shirt. He felt the other place a light peck on his cheek, before standing next to him again. “Do you like it?”
The words got Wille out of his head, enough to turn to Simon, still gripping the shirt in his hands, but throwing them around Simon in an embrace. “Thank you,” he mumbled into his shoulder. He could feel Simon rubbing circles across his back. He was not going to cry, it was just clothing.
Clothing that wasn’t something he would have been brave enough to buy for himself. He loved wearing Simon’s crop tops, having a piece of his fiance with him, the comfort of his smell. But they were Simon’s. They weren’t his. This, this was his. As could easily be read by anyone, but Wille didn’t really care about the ridiculous lettering on the front. He’d told Simon how fondly he remembered every time he was a bit more daring with his clothing and he also mentioned that he’d liked the feeling of lace against his skin, after he’d tried on one of the tops Wilma had forgotten at their place after a visit. He had been embarrassed when Simon had found him in it, but Simon’s reaction had let him forget more than just why he was feeling embarrassed. Somehow, it felt right. He felt prettier than with any perfectly tailored button down.
And now he owned a crop top with lace and his boyfriend’s pet name for him on the front. And suddenly he just couldn’t hold the tears in any longer. Laughing and crying at the same time, he leaned further into Simon.
Simon’s body shook with a laugh, “I’ll take it you like it?” He moved his hands to gently card his fingers through Wille’s hair. Wille only nodded into his shoulder.
After a few minutes Wille looked up, beaming, tears forgotten, drying on his cheeks. Simon looked at him in slight confusion until- “I’m gonna try it on!” and with that Wille ran out of the room.
How did he manage get the cutest fiance the world had to offer?
Simon heard Wille shuffling back into the hallway before he saw him. He could hear Wille was nervous by the way he was walking, but what he saw when he looked up to his face was utter delight.
“It’s perfect,” they both said at the same time, then laughed, Simon looking at Wille and Wille looking at himself in the mirror they had in their hallway. Walking towards where Wille was standing, he moved behind him, about to wrap his arms around him again, then thinking better of if, letting Wille (and himself) admire the view, placing his hands on Wille’s hips instead.
“Thank you,” Wille said again. That’s really most of what was going on in his head. His mind was swimming with thoughts of how pretty he felt and how weirdly, this felt better than what he was always told he was the right thing to wear, but the thing that was drowning out all of these was appreciation. Appreciation for the man behind him and how comfortable he felt being around him. How accepted Simon made him feel, how right.
Simon then wrapped his arms around Wille’s waist, over exposed skin, parts of it covered by the lace. He kissed along Wille’s neck, “You’re welcome, mi amor. You look lovely.”
They stood there for a while, Wille brushing over the soft material from time to time, focusing on the feeling of the print, cool against his chest, the lace against his waist, his fingers linked with his fiance, hands dropped on their sides. He let them swing beside them, until he let go, turned around and kissed Simon. How did he ever get so lucky?
-
Wille woke up to Simon’s bare back pressed to his front. Memories from the last night came back into his mind and he decided it would probably be better to get up now, before he wouldn’t leave the bed at all for the next few hours. They needed food after all.
Wille walked to the door of their bedroom slowly, picking up some underwear that was laying around on the floor, putting it on and walking to the direction of the kitchen, closing the door as quietly as he could.
Just putting some toast in the toaster and cutting up some fruit, he let his mind wander to the day before, less risky for those thoughts to come back just yet, when he didn’t have his naked boyfriend in bed next to him.
He remembered the feeling of looking at himself in the mirror in that crop top. His own, finally. It was a different feeling wearing Simon’s. This one was his. It wasn’t like he’d thought about the way he dressed and how he wanted to dress a whole lot before. How that was possibly linked to a part of himself he wasn’t quite ready to explore. He did want to try out more things. Maybe not just look through the men’s section in stores, but walk into the women’s section with Simon, who had never since he’d known him given a shit about the gendered labels on the clothes he was buying. His rule was easy, if he liked it, he liked it, didn't matter where in the store it was placed.
Just as he put the cut up fruit into a bowl and the plates with the toast on the tray with it, he heard footsteps approaching him. “Good morning, mitt hjärta,” Wille said with a chipper tone, he knew Simon would act annoyed at so early in the morning, but secretly his fiance adored seeing him this hapy, no matter what time of the day. Turning around to face his fiance, his breath caught in his throat.
He had expected to see Simon. He had expected that Simon would look quite adorable with his hair messed up from sleeping. He had expected Simon to look deadass gorgeous in the morning sun. What he had not expected was for his fiance to wear Wille’s crop top. He had been right with the adorable and the gorgeous, but Simon also looked incredibly hot. Wille wasn’t really the possessive type, but he had to admit that he felt oddly smug about seeing ‘little prince’ written across his fiance's chest.
“You okay there, little prince?” Simon asked, a smile broad on his face. Clearly he knew exactly what he was doing to Wille. He’d always known. Wille didn’t exactly answer, just put the rest of the breakfast onto the tray, taking his fiance’s hand and dragging him right back to where they’d both come from. Breakfast had to wait after all.