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Wilhelm shifted closer. From the sudden movement the water splashed back and forth as it hit the sides of the tub, and some wayward water drops found their way to Simon's cheek. Wilhelm noted this fact because he had been unable to look away from the other's face ever since they came into the bathroom. Without thinking, he reached out to wipe it off, but as the realization of what he's about to do set in, his hand stilled in the air, right before it could've made contact with Simon's skin.
They were sitting in a bathtub full of water, it hardly mattered if Simon's cheek would become a little wet. And there was the other — more important reason —, which was Simon's discomfort whenever Wille touched or wanted to touch his face. It was not something they ever talked about as Wille wasn't sure about — well, about anything regarding this topic. But he took notice of the way his boyfriend would lean away or still for a second when he reached to caress his cheeks. It was different when they were kissing (or doing more than kissing), Simon didn't seem to mind it then. In fact, he wanted, needed and waited for Wille to do exactly that, to trace his face with gentle hands when they were laying side by side. He would close his eyes for a second, then open it and the look in his eyes would soften further. He would just keep softly gazing at Wille until Wille reaches out...
It was awkward now, because Wille didn't know what to do with his hand still hanging between them. He turned all of his attention to the execution, then recalculation of that task that he didn't notice the small smile forming on Simon's lips, or the way his gaze softened as he took in Wille's minor internal panic. The hand that came to rest lightly on his knee brought Wille's attention back enough to make eye contact again.
"Okay?"
Wille hummed briefly. "You?"
Simon did the same.
"You don't like it when I touch your face," it started out as a soft question but as the words linked together one after another they somehow formed a statement instead. It was kind of a sudden way to address this — sounding somehow like an accusation that needs to be explained —, and Wille internally scolded himself because he didn't intend to do it like this at all. He wanted to talk about this with Simon for a while now, but not like this.
The soft smile on Simon's face faltered.
"I'm sorry, it came out harshly," Wille said, already feeling horrible for being the reason for that expression.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. You don't owe me any explanation about things like this, I don't want you to feel like you do, I didn't want to bring this up this way, I'm really sorry..."
"It's fine, Wille!"
"It's your body, you are in full control over what's happening with it and..."
"Hey, don't worry, calm down a little. I understand what you are saying."
Wille stopped talking. The hand resting on his knee slowly started to draw patterns into his skin. It's a thing Simon does when he's nervous, scared or just generally overwhelmed with thoughts — he's playing with his hands. It took everything in Wille to not reach out and hold his hand but he decided to wait until Simon gathered his thoughts.
"I wanted to talk with you about this, but it just never seemed like the right time," a pause, "or maybe I've just been scared? Confused?"
"You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."
"God, no, it's not that. It's not about telling it to you, but more about processing it before, so I could tell it to you after," another pause. "Can we maybe talk about this a little later?"
"Of course, take your time."
A comfortable silence settled around them after that. They sat in the tub quietly, just holding each other's hand. Their hands didn't stop moving throughout their journey though; Wille's thumb rubbed soothing circles against Simon's palm every so often. The repetitive motion calmed Simon down. The warmth of Wille's hand contrasted with the rapidly cooling water. He wished they could stay there forever. Just being in each other's company helped him relax and forget about the world for a moment.
But then something snapped in him — a memory from before, he knew it — and all at once, he felt his nerves rise back up again. He squeezed his boyfriend's hand tight and took a deep breath in through his nose. He didn't have to tell Wille about this, not yet, but that was alright, he thought. He had plenty of time. And Wille will always be there when he's ready.
"Do you want me to carry you to bed tonight?" Wille offered with a smile, making Simon crack up. He laughed for longer than he intended. Then he looked up and caught Wille staring at him with a fond expression and felt his worries melting away into nothingness. Wille had a perfect way of dissolving his negative thoughts, even if just for a while.
"I think I'll pass," Simon managed to reply with a small smile, his voice coming out soft. Then they fell silent once more as their fingers intertwined. Their eyes met again. For how long neither knew. Maybe it has been minutes. Maybe hours. A blush crept onto Wille's cheeks but he couldn't hide his smile.
Simon looked radiant. It was not something Wille didn't already know, but at that moment there was something else present around them that amplified this fact. Was it maybe the faint smell of tangerines they had eaten a while ago, or the candles' flickering lights illuminating Simon's entire frame — creating a halo around him? Or maybe the way his eyes were shining ever so slightly in the dim light? The combination of all of these? Wille wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of is the sudden discontent he felt when Simon removed the hand that was resting on his knee.
Fortunately, that feeling couldn't settle for long because with the same motion Simon went closer, practically sitting into his lap, their noses almost touching. Wille's left hand found its way onto his waist to keep him steady.
Wille hummed in question and with his other hand he pushed back the curls that fell into Simon's eyes. It's been a while since Simon's hair had been cut and it framed his face now, reaching just below the ears. Wille might have developed an obsession over it.
Simon went with the motion — turning his head into the direction of the hand — so Wille left it there, tangled in those beautiful curls, lightly massaging the scalp.
Simon smiled down sweetly.
"I love you," he said with a voice barely louder than a whisper. His expression clear and open—so full of openness that it made Wille shiver slightly.
"I love you too, Simon."
And Simon beamed, smiling so wide Wille had absolutely no choice — not that he would've chosen anything else — but to pull the boy in his arms even closer and hug him tightly. A surprised chuckle and warm hands were the answer. Simon made an attempt to scoot even closer by wrapping his legs around Wille as well. They were holding the other with almost crushing strength.
The tightness of the hug subdued after a while but they stayed like that, just holding each other and being impossibly close, for a long time.
Simon was having a bad day.
It was Friday and they met up in front of school as usual. The entire day, Simon was lost in thought. Then after school, in Bjärstad, he said he wanted to talk and they sat down to do so. He tried really hard to say something, but the words just didn't seem to want to come out.
So Wille grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. "Bathroom?"
Simon gave a nod. It had been unintentional, but they had made it their habit in recent months to talk about all kinds of vulnerable topics while taking a bath. It started with Wille being so mad at his mother that he was practically vibrating, so Simon pulled him into the bathroom in the Palace and got him to calm down and they talked for a long time. The second time was after an unfortunate incident with a journalist, who came up to them on the street, and started to say all kinds of hurtful stuff when they refused to answer his questions. He needed to be dragged away by two bodyguards. Wille and Simon went home that day and held each other under the stream of water, comforting words whispered into each other's skin. The last time happened just a week ago, when nothing special happened, they just needed to be close like that after a long day.
(...)
"My dad..." Simon started but the sentence ended in a shaky breath. His free hand gripped tightly on Wille's wrist, which was resting on the side of the tub. He squeezed tighter, like that would ground him. Another deep breath. This time accompanied by him releasing Wille's hand and looking back at him. Wille's thumb gently stroked the top of his thigh, hoping to both comfort and calm his lover.
It seemed like it was effective because Simon started to speak, his fingers kept tracing circles and shapes on Wille's skin. "When he was drunk or high, he would ... sometimes he would say things that... hurt me a lot... Even when they were supposed to mean nothing. So, I just always tried to ignore everything, pretending that they don't affect me. Not paying attention to him." Another inhale, "But then he would get mad and... he'd grab my face so I can't look away and ignore him... and he'd scream and... I hated how loud he was and hated how I couldn't move anymore and hated that it made me feel powerless..." His voice trailed off into a whisper and he swallowed thickly before continuing, "And sometimes when you touch my face and I don't know it's you—I panic. It takes a moment for me to realize who is really there, and when my brain catches up, I try not to freak out too much or show any signs that I'm scared... I hate how I feel that way..." He kept repeating the patterns on Wille's knee. A quiet whimper left him and his head fell forward, resting against Wille's shoulder. Wille wrapped his arms around him, trying his best to provide some sort of physical comfort. He kissed Simon's temple softly, wishing desperately that there was more he could do than simply holding him.
Simon slowly pulled away after a while, sitting back down. He curled in on himself, wrapping his hands around his knees. Tears still streamed down his cheeks and Wille wished he knew what to do. What do you say to someone whose parent's abuse has left scars so deep they're not sure if they'll ever truly heal from them?
"We used to be really close — me and dad. We–," a sob shook him and he buried his face in his arms to hide. Wille wanted to go over and pull him into another hug, but he wasn't sure if it was welcomed, especially considering Simon seemed intent on keeping them apart. Wille decided to give Simon some space and sat quietly while waiting for him to continue. After a few minutes, Simon took a shuddering breath. He looked up at Wille through red, watery eyes.
"We used to go to the farmers' market on Sundays. It was our thing. And he would tell me all kinds of ridiculous made up stories just to make me smile after a bad day in school." He gave Wille a weak smile. "I– We were so close, and then it all stopped and I didn't understand why he doesn't… love me anymore," his voice gave out halfway, the rest came out in a form of shaky whispers. "I miss him," he mumbled, fingers digging into flesh, as he squeezed his own arm. "I miss him so much," the words caught in his throat like glass and he started shaking again. His breathing grew faster, and Wille could see the panic beginning to bubble under the surface as his chest heaved with the effort to get air.
Wille moved closer toward him then. "Simme, darling, breath!" he murmured, prying away Simon's hand from further squeezing his upper arm. "Simme…" Simon leaned forward, letting the tears flow freely. Wille pulled him in immediately.
"Breathe," Wille murmured against his hair. "Breathe with me."
Simon sobbed into his shoulder, clutching him tight. They stayed that way for nearly half an hour. Wille let his head fall against Simon's curls and ran his fingers through them briefly. Then one of his hands was on Simon's chest, the other on his back. He listened carefully to the steadying rhythm of Simon's heartbeat and felt his breathing slow down. Finally, the sobs became quieter until eventually Simon slumped against him completely, exhausted. Wille pulled him closer, kissing his temple gently before laying back with Simon cradled in his arms, so the warm water can soothe his boyfriend further.
"I'm so sorry, Simme," he said quietly, stroking Simon's hair.
A little while later, Simon's breathing evened out completely. They laid there like that, with comforting words whispered into the silence and steady hands making Simon keep grounded, until the water got cold.
Wille pulled out the plug and let all the water to run down the drain before he sat up, pulling Simon to do the same. He grabbed the towel from beside them and dried off the boy sitting in front of him, as much as he could, before reaching for the shirt and helping Simon put it on. Followed by an underwear and a pair of sweatpants. Then Wille got him to sit on the little stool they had there near the tub.
"I wish I knew what to do to actually help you." He pressed a kiss on Simon's forehead before he moved to put on his own clothes.
"This is enough," he heard Simon murmur into the silence. "Just listening and being here is enough."
Wille kneeled in front of him after he finished dressing up. "Is there anywhere else you don't like to be touched?"
Simon shook his head and added, "it's not that I don't like it. I like it when you touch my face, it makes me all... mushy inside..."
A careful smile appeared on Wille's face.
"... It's just, when you do it all of sudden, or when I don't see you, or when I'm not paying enough attention to register it."
"Otherwise it's okay?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. Then I'll pay attention to this from now on."
"Than–"
"Don't say thank you for this, please."
Faint conversation hit their ears seconds later, which meant Linda got home from work.
She and Sara were sitting by the table, eating, when they emerged from the bathroom. Linda smiled warmly at them and asked if they had already eaten. Simon nodded and went over to where they were sitting, to hug her, and kiss the top of Sara's head. It earned him a weird look from his sister, who then looked over to Wille, silently asking if everything was okay.
The four of them spent the rest of the evening together in the living room, watching some telenovela. Every time an episode finished they asked Wille what was it about, which resulted in a lot of laughter as Wille practically made up an entirely new show on his own.
Simon was sprawled on the couch, leaning on Linda, while Sara and Wille sat on the floor. After like three episodes, Wille looked back because Simon's hand stopped playing with his hair.
"He fell asleep," Linda said to him when their eyes met.
Wille watched as she woke him up, telling him that it's getting late and he should go to his room before he falls into a deeper sleep. He mumbled something as a reply but otherwise didn't move.
"Do you want me to carry you to bed and tuck you in, like when you were younger?" she asked with humor in her voice. Simon shook his head, his eyes still closed. When he eventually opened them he looked at her and said in a sleepy tone, "not a baby anymore."
It made Linda chuckle. "You will always be one to me," she said.
Simon sat up, and with the help of Wille's outstretched hand, he stood up.
"Wille…"
"Hmm?"
"Carry me," he clinged to Wille's neck as soon as they turned to leave.
"What happened with 'I'm not a baby anymore'?"
"I take it back," Simon said, and jumped onto Wille, hanging on his back like a koala. He rested his chin on Wille's shoulder and buried his face against his neck as Wille walked through the house into his room.
Simon buried himself under layers of blankets immediately, watching as Wille let the curtain by the door down, pack out from Simon's school bag and organize what needs to be put into it for Monday (he knows how much Simon pays attention to do it immediately after he gets home, so he doesn't forget what he needs to do for the next school day), feed the fishes, shut the blinds and turn off the lights, before he climbs into bed too. He doesn't attempt to slip under the three blankets Simon has over himself. A hand reaches out from the pile and goes back again after Wille took a hold in it.
They fell asleep like that, holding hands.