Chapter Text
“Fuck,” Simon curses softly under his breath. He really thought he got it this time, but according to his biology handbook, the right answer to his current problem is ‘autosomal recessive’ and not ‘heterozygous dominant’, and he doesn’t understand why.
With a sigh, he flips back to the original page, rereading the genetics problem for what feels like the millionth time. He hasn’t even made it halfway through, though, when the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Wille.
He doesn’t bother to look up to confirm if it’s really Wille who just entered the library – he doesn’t have to. Ever since he and Wille had decided to give things another go, Simon has developed an impeccable sense for Wille’s presence. And so he doesn’t look up, keeps staring at the page as he waits for Wille to walk him by to go sit with some of his fancy-pants-friends. The wait is long, though, longer than usual, and Simon shifts in his seat. Did his impeccable Wille-sense finally fail him?
Across from his table, a chair is pulled back, and Simon looks up – straight at Wille, who smiles broadly back at him and then quietly starts taking out his books, setting them out on the table as if this a perfectly normal thing to do. How Simon manages to keep his own face straight, he’ll never know, but he likes to think he does a reasonably good job as he tears his eyes away from Wille and back to his own stuff.
Simon
What the hell are you doing?
Wille
Studying in the library. Wanna join?
Simon
I thought we agreed we were gonna keep things on the downlow???
Wille
Sshh… there's no more free tables, I had to join SOMEONE
Could just as well be you
Besides, we’re just sitting at the same table.
We’re not even talking.
Simon
“The downest of lows” is what we said, I believe.
Wille
Do you want me to go?
Simon
… no.
Wille
😘
Simon snorts – and immediately finds himself on the receiving end of at least four deadly stares from his schoolmates studying around him. He glances at Wille. To their fellow students, he no doubt seems very focused on his books, but Simon is sitting close enough that he can see the littlest smirk curl around the corners of Wille’s mouth.
Asshole, Simon thinks to himself, but there is not bite to it. They’d both agreed to keep their… whatever it is they’re doing, strictly to themselves this time – neither of them have any interest in the public scrutiny that will certainly come their way if anyone even suspects there is something more going on between them again. They are, however, interested in keeping that particular something going, and if they have to sneak around to make that happen – so be it.
Does Simon sometimes wish he could walk to class hand-in-hand with Wille? Of course he does. But on the other hand… there’s no thrill like that of a stolen kiss behind a library shelf, or a forbidden touch of fingertips when they pass each other in the hall, or -as Simon discovers now- sitting less than half a meter away and not being supposed to touch, or talk, or look.
Because they don’t do this – ever. In public, Wilhelm sticks to his high class friends, while Simon keeps his head down and tries to get as much homework done as possible while he’s at school, so he can spend his free time with friends he actually cares about. Less public interaction means less chance of raising suspicion, after all, and so Simon is not used to having Wille this close anymore – at least not when he can’t touch.
Which is maybe why it’s so distracting to even just be sitting next to each other now, and if Simon wasn’t making much headway with his homework before, it’s come to a complete standstill now. He turns the page, to do at least something, but none of the words mean anything to him, and he carefully lets his eyes wander a little further on the table, until he catches sight of Wille’s hand. He’s playing with a pencil, expertly balancing it between his fingers, silently tapping it against his thumb, and Simon remembers when they managed to sneak off to the lake a few days back, and those same fingers had been playing with his hair, curling it around, tugging at it gently, and-
He slams his book shut, frantically trying to get his breathing under control and the heat pooling in his stomach to cool down. This is ridiculous. How is Wille having this much effect on him, without even doing anything?
There’s a soft chuckle, so soft that Simon first thinks he may have imagined it, but when he looks up, Wille is right there, looking much too amused.
Wait a minute.
Is he… is he doing it on purpose?
Simon
What are you doing?
Wille
What do you mean?
Simon cocks his head as he looks at Wille, eyes wide, silently asking the question, but Wille just looks back, a picture-perfect display of innocence.
And then he demonstratively licks his lips.
Ooooh… Simon narrows his eyes, but Wille’s not even looking at him anymore, “focused” instead on the book in front of him, though the wide smirk he’s sporting tells Simon everything he needs to know.
So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?
Carefully, Simon glances around. Every table in the library is occupied, but so far he hasn’t caught anyone even stealing a glance in their direction, and in a split second, he takes a decision.
Slowly, as silently as he possibly can, he pushes his shoes off under the table. Wille hasn’t noticed anything yet, seemingly actually engrossed in one of the math problems in front of him right now, and Simon shifts his seat. Just a little bit, then another bit, and a little more… He glances around, ensuring that no one is paying any attention to them -they don’t- and then steels himself.
Two can play this game.
He lifts his foot, gently feeling for where he suspects Wille’s feet are, and almost immediately finds the other boy’s shoe. Wille either doesn’t feel it, or decides to ignore it, because he doesn’t react at all, but that’s okay – Simon is just getting started. Slowly, he lets his toes drift up, following the shape of the shoe towards Wille’s ankle, and then softly, but purposefully, drags his toes over Wille’s socks.
Wille’s head snaps up, and Simon smiles his most innocent smile as his foot creeps further up, and Wille’s eyes widen in surprise when Simon’s foot hikes up his pants and carresses his skin.
Wille
What are you doing?!??!!??!?
Wille is no longer looking at him, instead staring down intently at his phone screen, clearly fighting to keep a straight face, and Simon has never felt so vindicated.
Simon
What do you mean?
He thumbs through his book as he continues to let his feet wander ever further, ever higher, along the inside of Wille’s thigh and-
Wille shrieks.
Simon drops his foot.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Greta, the school librarian asks sternly – thus voicing, in a much more polite way, the what the fuck expression that each of their schoolmates is sending them right now.
“I-ehm,” Wille stammers, and Greta raises her eyebrow. “I thought- I mean I think I thought… there was- ehm. A mouse?”
“A mouse?!!?”
Within seconds, the students body has split up, with half of the students suddenly and inexplicably on top of their chairs or tables, and the other half on their knees, trying to locate the unfortunate -and entirely non-existent- mouse.
“Where did she go?”
“What colour!”
“How big was she?”
“Why are you all assuming she’s a she!”
Meanwhile, in the midst of the pandemonium, a prince and his curly-haired boyfriend are sneaking glances at each other that are simultaneously taken aback and amused.
Simon
Okay this is on me
Wille
“The downest of lows” huh?
Simon
Shut up
Wille
… 9pm my room?
Simon
Ok
Check for mice beforehand!
Wille
🐭