Work Text:
Simon picks up his hoodie from the floor and slips into it. Wille observes the slight frown — the one Simon had on his face at first when he arrived — making its way back into his boyfriend's expression, as Simon not so gently throws his books into his bag.
It was Saturday and Simon came over a few hours ago to study for a test they have scheduled for next week. He was a little quieter than usual, a little less cheerful and put together, but Wille didn't think too much about it after the frown smoothed out from his face a few minutes after he arrived. Both of them have been stressing over exams lately and barely get time to enjoy some proper sleep.
They finished revising for the test relatively fast so they decided to watch something until Simon needed to go home. All that while eating the food Linda sent — Wille was not exactly sure what it was that they were eating but he made a mental note to tell Linda later that it was super delicious. Simon was joking around and enjoying the show they were watching, and Wille momentarily forgot about what happened earlier. For a while.
He was just peeling a tangerine when Simon's earlier mood came back and Wille was not quite sure what caused it. One moment he was talking animatedly about the series, then in the next one, he's mostly uncommunicative and hardly focuses on his surroundings. Wille needed to gently nudge him to get his attention to the outstretched hand with the peeled tangerine in front of him. Asking if he was okay earned Wille a quick yes and a sweet smile, then Simon shifted his attention back to the laptop screen and started munching on the tangerine Wille had just given him. Wille slipped behind him then and pulled him backward, instructing him to lean back. Simon did so, and when Wille placed his head on Simon's shoulder Simon turned to him and kissed his temple. "Comfy?"
Wille nodded and they both turned their attention back to the screen. But, as time passed, the worry in the back of Wille's mind just came forward more. The boy in his arms zoned out a few more times; tearing the tangerine peels into very small bits, gathering them in his hand, and holding his breath or maybe trying to regulate it, probably unconsciously, for a few times. At one point he slipped out of Wille's embrace to sit beside him instead, resting his head on Wille's shoulder and interlocking their fingers. His cheek felt hot against Wille’s neck and he had goosebumps all over his arms. The only reason Wille ruled out illness in his head was the fact that when his boyfriend was sick — he was sick loudly. He would have already whined or been “dramatic” about how bad he's feeling if it's something like that. This was different from that, Wille concluded. His mind kept wandering from one thing to another; thoughts drifting back to Simon's sudden silence, the way he was holding himself still, and even the way he was chewing slowly. Carefully select which piece of tangerine to eat and which ones don’t. He generally eats a lot more when he’s stressed, Wille noted a while ago, — constantly needs to have some sort of snack — but he’s also very selective about it. There was one time when Wille spent the night at Simon’s right before an important choir performance; the Hillerska choir was invited to perform with a pianist Simon loves a lot, and Simon was so nervous he went through all stages of self-doubt the day before. The only thing that took his mind off from worrying further was food. He went through an impressive stack of fruit-roll snacks and was basically standing guard by the kitchen while Linda was making dinner, because he was so hungry. However, after he took a bite from the food on his plate, he said it tastes weird and the texture doesn’t feel good in his mouth. Of course, he didn’t say it out loud while sitting by the table, just later, when Wille asked why he wanted to swap plates. He had no problem eating after they changed plates. Wille felt no difference but apparently Simon did.
Just like now, as they are sitting on the bed, Simon is frowning as he holds a piece of tangerine between his fingers. Wille looks at him as he's staring at the piece. His expression is pensive and he has a look of confusion mixed with sadness in his eyes. He bites down one half of the tangerine — the juice leaves a trail of sweetness on his chin — and lets out a frustrated sigh before swallowing it.
“It doesn’t taste good?” Wille asks, his thumb swiping across Simon’s chin to remove the dripped juice before it dries.
“It doesn't," Simon confirms and puts the other half back on the plate.
Wille tightens his grip on Simon, drawing him closer until he can press a light kiss onto his temple. Simon’s eyebrows lift up and he leans closer against Wille, closing his eyes briefly. Wille notices a faint smile on his lips, but it isn't enough to put his mind at ease.
"Is there something on your mind?" He asks softly, thumb tracing Simon's collarbone.
"No, not really."
It was obviously more or less a lie but Wille didn't press further. If Simon doesn't want to talk, Wille won't pressure him. They had been together long enough for Wille to know that Simon doesn’t always know how to talk about his problems — he doesn’t like to worry people around him — but pushing him doesn’t work well most of the time.
A little later one of Wille's guards knocks to remind them of the time, so Simon gets up to get ready to go. He gets dressed, packs up his school stuff and the containers Linda sent the food in. Wille watches it from where he’s sitting on the side of the bed. "Tell Linda the food was really delicious."
"You liked it?"
"Yeah. I told you already when we were eating."
"Oh yeah. I'm glad. She'll be happy to hear it."
After thinking a little, Simon pulls the purple hoodie over his head to take it off and push it into Wille's hand. Then he goes to retrieve Wille's — which got tangled in the bedsheet — and puts that one on instead. He puts on his coat too, and only then does Wille stand up to pull the hood over his head and zip up the coat; a thing Simon doesn't ever do no matter how cold it is outside.
Whenever he's complaining about being cold, Wille always reminds him that maybe he wouldn't feel that cold if he would pull up the zipper on his jacket, but Simon would simply ignore it and not take the advice at all. So it's either Wille doing it or absolutely no one. That, or when Simon is feeling particularly cheeky, he would hug Wille tightly and demand that he make the cold go away as if Wille is some kind of god who can control the weather. It only happened once, actually, but Wille still thinks of it fondly. Simon's cheeks were flushed from the cold, and he looked so cuddly in his fluffy jacket that Wille broke his mother's no-kissing-in-public rule — a rule they never tried to uphold after that day. Either way, Simon's favorite pastime activity seemed to be making Wille stressed over him basically inviting a cold and pneumonia to a dance with him every day, and Wille is just praying he won't take them home one day eventually.
Simon brightens up at the gesture and pulls Wille down for a kiss, kissing his pretty nose for good measure too. It makes Wille flustered a little and Simon giggles over it before he goes back to give his prince another, longer kiss.
"I need to go," he says after they’ve pulled away.
"Text me when you get home?"
"Will do."
"Hey," Wille pulls him back, leaning their foreheads together briefly before pulling back so they are still close but aren't touching. "If you want to talk or anything, I'm here, okay? You know that, right?"
"I do," Simon sighs quietly and lets the silence hang between them for a little bit before continuing a little louder, "I'm a bit anxious today. Something happened, and it's occupying my mind a little too much. Sorry if I made you worry." He continues before Wille could react to that. "It's not something serious, and talking about it won't help right now," he takes Wille's hand and kisses his fingers. Wille wasn't sure if he did it to reassure him or himself.
The hand Simon just kissed goes and cups his chin to make him look up. It was not forceful at all, but it made Simon wince a little anyway, and Wille immediately removed his hand when it happened.
"Sorry."
Simon just shakes his head, indicating that there’s no need for an apology. Then they are just standing there, making steady eye contact and having a silent conversation, closing it down with a nod.
"Will you be okay?" Wille asks.
"Yes"
The change of temperature as Simon steps outside gives him goosebumps. He pulls the hood a little bit more over his head so his ears won't freeze. The sun had already set a while ago and fresh snow decorates everything as he looks around. Everything seems to glow in the dark as the street lamps reflect back from the snow. He waits to walk toward the bus stop until he hears the door open and close again with a soft click.
Because they made it a little bit of a habit that Simon goes home later in the afternoon or with the last bus (just as much as Wille made it a habit to accidentally miss curfew when he's coming back from Simon's in school days, much of the annoyance of the school) Wille would insist on walking him to the bus stop and wait for the bus with him, but when Wille can't do that, because of the curfew, he would send one of his guards to do so. Simon told him it wasn't necessary, but to be honest, it didn't bother him — for sure he felt safer. The guards would always hang back, so he wouldn't even need to make awkward small talks with complete strangers. The only exception was Malin, of course, but she was hardly a stranger anymore. They would usually walk side by side, sometimes talk, sometimes not. Malin wasn't with Wille today, so Simon waits out of politeness like he always does, and the man, whose name Simon just realizes he doesn't even know, stays back to create a respectful distance between them like all the other guards always do.
The walk to the bus stop takes around 8 to 15 minutes, depending on how fast you go. You basically need to walk through the entire park in front of Hillerska, turn a corner, and walk a little more from there.
He likes snow, it makes everything out of focus and hidden, but he also hates snow because the softened features of the world around him makes the one inside of him sharper and louder. This very sudden shift in focus made him dizzy and lightheaded, suddenly feeling like every part of his skin was on fire. To push down the nausea, he needed to take a few deep breaths, and while doing so, he pulled down the zipper of his jacket to feel less hot and trapped. It has been a while since he felt this anxious, not even the whole video thing triggered it this bad, and this very fact makes him feel even worse. He needs to stop thinking.
He takes out his phone to check the time; the bus is still 16 minutes away. He stops for a second to find his earphones in his bag, then starts a random playlist. While music plays in his ears, he makes up a schedule for that 15 minutes he has left until the bus arrives. It's not much of a task, but trying to figure out the exact time he would need to get to the corner where he'll need to turn and at what speed he would need to go to that will keep his mind busy for a while. He leaves himself 4 minutes from the corner to the bus stop, so that leaves 11 minutes to reach the corner. It's a great time, by walking normally, he usually needs around 8 minutes to cover that distance.
He arrives at the corner exactly at the time he planned to. The remaining distance is hardly a lot, and you wouldn't need 4 minutes to do it, but it's okay. He reaches the bus stop in a minute, even by walking really slowly, but it's okay. He looks back in the direction he came from just in time to see Wille's guard stopping not too close but not too far, it's okay. Wille messages him right when the clock changes a number again, only leaving 2 minutes left until the bus. It's a picture of Wille wearing the purple hoodie, sitting on the floor, leaning forward to rest his hand on the bed, and burying half of his face into the sleeve of the hoodie. The text under it says, "already missing you :("
Simon smiles softly after reading it. He saves the picture before sending back three hearts.
The bus should arrive in 30 seconds. It doesn't, but it's okay. It's not a big deal if he needs to wait another minute. But the bus was late by five whole minutes and Simon was, in fact, not okay. He boards the bus and sits at the back, feeling very silly that the bus being late is ending up being his breaking point. He wasn't even sure why he started crying. His schedule, which he had managed to stick to perfectly up until now, has been completely ruined, and not only does he feels silly for crying, but for making a schedule for a 16-minute walk to begin with.
He said to Wille that something had happened, but that wasn't even true. Nothing specific actually happened. Sara was mad at him for being in contact with Micke. Mom was having problems at work — that Simon only knows by overhearing her talking on the phone. Micke was still Micke — he's trying so hard, but Simon can't help feeling some kind of resentment toward him, and quite frankly, he doesn't think he'll stop feeling that way ever. He hadn't seen Rosh and Ayub in ages because all three of them are having exams and tests left and right, and they can't manage to find a way to meet when all three of them are more or less well-rested. And being the Crown Prince's boyfriend with all the things that come with it is not that easy on top of everything else. It feels like his entire life is crashing down around him, and there's nothing he can do to hold it together. He doesn't know how to fix anything and it's all too much.
He gets home, greets his mom, who smiles at him brightly just so that smile can falter the moment she thinks he isn't looking anymore, goes into his room, closes the door, letting the fabric nailed to the doorframe fall too, strips out of everything except Wille's hoodie, and cries himself to sleep.
To no one's surprise, Simon wakes up with a horrible headache. He checks the time on his phone; it's barely 6 in the morning. What he's also not surprised by is Wille's name on the screen. He didn't text Wille that he got home, and he already made him worried before that. Simon swipes out the missed call and opens the messages.
"you got home safely?"
"hope you are okay ❤️"
"did you fall asleep??"
"text me when you wake up so I know you are safe?"
"i love you"
"❤️❤️"
Before answering, he gets up, feeling a little dizzy from the headache, to get something to drink. He was almost sure there wouldn't be anyone outside because it was still really early, but to his surprise, he finds Sara sitting by the table, scrolling through her phone. She looks up at the noise, and they stare at each other awkwardly for a second. They hadn't been talking much these days.
"Good morning," Simon says while looking for a glass.
"You too," she says as she stands up to return to her room, or so Simon believes. But instead, she’s standing by the door leading to Simon’s room, waiting.
"What are you doing?" Simon asks as he reaches her.
"Intervention."
"What?"
"Wilhelm messaged me yesterday asking if you got home, so I checked on you and you were crying."
"I was not," Simon argued, with no actual fight in his voice. Sara already had that "sure, whatever you say" expression on as she pushed Simon into the room and closed the door. Simon had no choice but to accept that this conversation was going to happen.
He puts down the glass of water and sits beside his sister, who was already sitting on his bed. Sara turns toward him, cross-legged, but he stays the way he was, not really looking at her.
"Did you have a fight?"
"What?"
"With Wilhelm. Did you have a fight?"
"No, no, it's not about Wille, not really about him."
"Then what is it about? I could go on guessing if you prefer it that way, but why drag it out? You know I won't leave until you tell me what's wrong."
"It's just...," and he told every little thing that was inside his head for days now. By the time he finished, they were facing each other, Sara holding both of his hands. He was a little proud of himself for not crying.
Sara was looking at him intensely, with a little glint of sadness seeping through her eyes. Trying to find the right approach to lead this conversation took her a second, but she started anyway.
(...)
"Your prince is ridiculously overprotective of you, I don't know how this is new information to you, but whatever. I'm sure if you tell him about the journalists, the comments online, and everything else, he'll figure something out."
"I don't want to make him..."
"Worry? You never want to make anyone worry, so you do the worrying on your own. And evidently, it's not working out that well for you. I know it's not Wilhelm's fault, but he's still the reason for those things. Even if there's nothing that can be done, he should try to find a way to make it easier or at least be there with you through it."
Simon stays silent, thinking hard about everything Sara told him.
"The world is not ending, nor is it falling apart around you. You have me, mom, your boyfriend, and all of your friends. And we have you. We can all figure it out together if it's too hard to do alone, okay?"
Simon's eyes are a little wet, but he’s not crying. They sit there for a while, not talking anymore, just letting it all sink. Then Sara stands up to give some food to the fish and goes back to Simon to kiss his head before turning to leave.
"And about Micke..," she says suddenly.
"I don't want to fight about this again, please?"
"I don't either, and I'm sorry," she says instead, to Simon's surprise, "I'm sorry for.. the way I reacted about it all. I have my opinion on him and you have yours. He caused us so much pain, and I don't think he'll change, and I don't want to do anything with him. But I shouldn't have pushed this on you. If you want to meet him, be in contact with him, for whatever reasons you have, it's okay. I'll not make it a problem between us anymore, for you to think I'm mad at you or think that you can't come to talk to me anymore, because neither is true. I was more worried than mad, I don't want you to get hurt, for him to cause us more pain."
Simon stands up then, basically crashing into Sara, hugging her tight, "Thank you. For everything."
"I pray to see the time when you finally get it through that thick skull of yours that you don't need to deal with everything on your own," she emphasizes by gently tapping the side of his head and leaving her hand there to pull his head to rest on her shoulder, letting him hide for a bit.
(...)
Laying down and getting under the blanket again felt really good now that his mind had quieted down. He opens Wille's message again, but instead of sending one back, he presses the call button. It wasn't that surprising that the line connected and Wille's voice came through in seconds. His boyfriend always woke up annoyingly early, the only reason Simon knew he actually slept and that he wasn't like a vampire or something was because Wille also usually fell asleep first.
"Hey," his voice was still a little sleepy though, so he must have woken up not too long ago.
"Hey. I called to tell you that... Yes, I got home safely."
Wille chuckles quietly at that, "I know."
"And also to tell you that your hoodie is really comfy, I might keep it."
"What about the other one I gave you last week?"
"Oh, yeah. You can get that one back, it doesn't smell like you anymore."
Wille chuckles again. "Are you pouting?"
"I am not!"
"You are! You can have all my clothes if you like."
"I fear we can't have you walk around naked, love. No matter how much I would love that."
The open laughter coming through the line made funny things to Simon's poor gay heart.
"Wille?"
"Hmm?"
"Keep me company for a bit?"
"You want me to come over?"
"No, no, just video?"
"Now?"
"If you don't have anything better to do."
His phone rings not even a second later, and he accepts the call, leaning the device against the wall. Wille did the same, it was like they were laying side by side, facing each other.
Wille still had the purple hoodie on, probably slept in it, his hair was all over the place, but he looked really soft and cuddly. Simon wanted nothing more than to be able to run his fingers through the soft hair that his fingers knew so well by now.
They share a smile, Wille's eyes softening at the sight of Simon having the blanket wrapped around him tightly, over his head too, only his face peeking out.
"How are you feeling?"
"Good, I think? I spoke with Sara when I woke up. Or, well, more like she spoke with me?"
"Yeah?"
"Yesterday was.. it was not a good day. I have this thing from time to time when my brain overthinks and overthinks and overthinks and I can't... I don't know how to get rid of it, you know? So everything just becomes too much and it's a mess. Yesterday was already not a good day and then the bus was late and it just ruined everything and then I just couldn't stop crying and.. well, yeah."
Wille winces at the last part, but Simon wasn't paying attention to see, he just continues, "I'm sorry for making you worried."
"Don't apologize for this!"
"Okay"
"Did talking with Sara help then?"
"It did. There's actually something I want to talk about with you quickly."
"Okay"
"The journalists who were camping outside the house, they are still here sometimes, not frequently but enough for it to be too much sometimes. And people apparently found my email too and they send all kinds of stuff that are not really nice to read. I would just do another one but what if they find that too somehow — I don't know."
"Fuck, Simme, why didn't you tell me sooner?” He thought for a second about what he said, then shook his head. "No, forget I said that. I'll look into all of this okay? We'll figure something out, alright?"
"Okay. Thank you."
"No, I'm such an idiot for not even thinking this would happen and how it might affect you. I'll fix it. Fuck," he sat up abruptly, getting out of frame and Simon was sure he was pushing his hair back with his hands.
Simon stayed laying down, feeling way too cozy and warm to ruin the perfect position he found under the blanket, "Come back to meee~, I'm laying here all alone..."
Simon expected Wille to lay back, but the screen tilted instead and the phone got picked up. Wille appears again on Simon's screen, his messy hair peeking out from under the hood he pulled up in the meantime. He reaches up to pull on the string of the hoodie, as a habit, but without finding one his hand just grasps air. Simon finds the way his expression shifts from relaxed to confused, then embarrassed in a matter of seconds really adorable.
"Why do you take the string out?
"Because I'm gay."
"Should I understand what that means?"
"I don't know, love. Being gay is when–"
"Shut up, idiot!"
The smile on Simon's face widens and their eyes lock, Wille's eyes softening even further. These quiet, calm moments where they just existed together were both of their favorite ones. It was silent for a while, Simon watching as Wille tried to push back the hair that fell in front of his eyes, but wasn't quite managing because of the hood. He succeeded eventually.
"There's no real reason. took it out just because," Simon says as an afterthought, and Wille hums in acknowledgment. Then Simon scoots upward a bit to have his head on the pillow a little bit more because his neck started to hurt a bit, but it was simply way too cozy to change position entirely. Wille might or might not have taken a couple of screenshots while he wasn't paying attention.
"You look pretty in purple," Simon says when he settles back down.
"You look pretty in anything."
"You look pretty without anything on."
Wille laughs again. Simon liked to make him laugh.
"This is the second time this morning you are talking about me being naked, are you sure you don't want me to come over? Play video games?" Wille said the last part with air quotes and Simon wants to hit him for it.
"Shut up, Wille!"
There was a knock, then a door opening, so Simon reluctantly turns, laying on his back, to be able to see the entrance. His mom appears a second after, pulling back the fabric that separates his room from the little corridor. She walks over to him, and sits beside him, putting her hand on his forehead to check if he has a fever. "What hurts, my love?"
Simon must have looked a little confused because she continues, "I told your sister to wake you up, so we can have breakfast together but, she said you aren't feeling well."
Wille's voice comes through the speaker before Simon could come up with something to say. "He had a little bit of a headache but he's feeling better now."
Linda looked surprised at the sudden voice, but after looking over and seeing Wille on the little screen she smiles widely, "Wille, good morning!"
Wille probably will never get used to the fact that Simon's family treats him like he's a part of the family too. Not only Linda but Sara too. And Wille's — and Simon's — biggest surprise, even Micke. He met Simon's dad a couple of times and Simon said that ever since Micke would ask how he is doing.
"Good morning!" Wille greets.
Linda looks back at Simon and checks his forehead again, being a bit skeptical. "Are you sure you are feeling better? You are a little warm. We should check if you have a fever."
Again, Wille gave no chance for Simon to answer. "He doesn't have, I already made him check it. I think getting something to eat would be just what he needs."
(...)
"Wow, am I boring you this much? You wanna get rid of me so fast," Simon asks after his mom left the room. His voice was playful, understanding Wille's intentions already.
"Never. But I know you would spend the entire day in bed and I think spending time with your mom, maybe talking with her a little, would be... well, you know."
"Yeah," Simon smiles at him. "Will you go get breakfast too, then?"
"Yes"
"Okay. Have a great day?"
"You too!"
"Don't miss me too much!"
"You are asking me the impossible."