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“You’re kidding, right? This has to be a joke,” Simon said, dark eyes boring into once familiar toffee brown.
He has a tight grip on the door, unbothered by the stray nails and splinters poking into his tanned skin. It was the only thing keeping him grounded and keeping him from smacking the visitor senseless.
The person’s face fell at the comment but their expression quickly sculpted to one of nonchalance. It was a skill that took years to master, perfecting every movement down to a furrowed brow or twitch of lips.
Simon scoffed.
Not at the reaction but at the situation as a whole.
Because standing in front of him was none other than the crowned prince of Sweden—the straight crowned prince, his mind added bitterly—and his small team of bodyguards. They were standing far enough away with their backs turned to give the pair some privacy. It was a gesture that the curly haired boy appreciated.
Earlier that day if Simon knew that Will—Wilhelm would show up to his house uninvited just ‘to talk things over’ then he would’ve locked himself in his room for the next month. Fuck school and fuck everyone in it.
Surely, no one would notice—certainly not Wilhelm since he ghosted him during winter break. Three weeks and no calls, no texts.
Nothing.
Zilch.
Nada.
And now he’s standing in front of Simon with his perfectly swept hair and awkward smile begging to talk as if he didn’t break Simon’s heart less than a month ago?
Yeah, no.
He wasn’t giving him the time of day.
Simon said as much and prepared to close the door but Wilhelm jumped into action.
“Wait!” He exclaimed, jamming his foot in the doorway so Simon couldn’t close it all the way. His hands desperately gripped onto the door frame. “Simme, please! Just hear me out!”
“No, I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say,” Simon snapped and tried closing the door again but to no avail. “You said enough in your interview—leave.”
“I’m not leaving until you listen to me!” Wilhelm insisted. Stern. The command shouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was. Simon wanted to smack himself for the thought.
“Everything just has to be on your terms, doesn’t it? Well, I don’t care. I’m done.”
For the third time, Simon tried closing the door but, of course, the universe hated him and wanted to see him suffer in the form of the Swedish crown Prince.
“Please!” The Prince begged. “Please, give me a chance. I’m begging you.”
If Simon was truly an evil person he would’ve made him beg on his knees. The thought alone was appealing and would surely make news headlines: Crown Prince caught begging non-resident, gay, ex-loved for a second chance?! He resisted the urge to laugh.
Wilhelm continued rambling in hopes of calming his nerves and Simon glanced down to see his hands trembling at his sides.
“Just give me five minutes to explain myself and I’ll be out of your life forever.”
Simon’s heart shattered even more if that was physically possible. No matter how much he despised the other in that moment he didn’t want him out of his life. It’s only been a month without him and Simon had never been more miserable. How could he spend forever without him? At the end of the day, no matter what he does or says, Simon could never truly hate Prince Wilhelm. And he hated himself for that. Why couldn’t he be stubborn in ways that mattered?
He was a lovesick fool.
Eventually, Simon collected himself enough to respond.
“You’ve got three minutes. Make them count.”
Wilhelm visibly deflated in relief.
“Thank you.”
I better not regret this, Simon thought as he let go of the door to cross his arms and learn against the frame.
“I wanna start off by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Simon, I’m so fucking sorry,” Wilhelm began, his voice wobbly. “I-I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wouldn’t do that, not to anyone. Especially not you. I like you and I didn’t ever want to leave you alone because I know what that’s like. To be an outsider and to have no one to talk to. You were my only friend besides Felice. You weren’t just a friend, you were more. You still are more. And I promise I didn’t choose to betray you. Not on my own accord—“
Simon rolled his eyes. “Wow. Really convincing stuff here. You’ve got two minutes now.”
Wilhelm’s eyes widened. His breath quickened a tiny bit, his lungs unable to catch up with his brain. Clenching his trembling fists, he paced back and forth in front of Simon. Hoping, begging, praying that he will just—listen and understand.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, okay, um. I never get a say in things. My entire life has been planned out from the day I was born, down to every minuscule detail. When Eric…” he faltered. Recognition and hurt flashed in his eyes but he needed to compose himself. He had to. Even if it felt like his entire world was falling apart, but in a way it was. He took a deep breath before, allowing the fresh air to invade his lungs before he continued.
“…anyway, since then my parents have doubled down on their restrictions. Hell, I can’t even go to the bathroom by myself,” he glanced over his shoulder to the body guards that moved closer in the past couple of minutes.
“No-Now I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did to you—I swear I’m not, but can you please try to understand the stress I’m under?”
Simon’s jaw clenched.
“The stress you’re under?” He said calmly. To an outsider, Simon looked indifferent to the comment. He wasn’t spitting venom or blowing smoke out of his ears like a cartoon character. But they would be looking in the wrong places. His demeanor changed. His soft brown eyes were narrowed, shoulders squared back as he tried to appear taller. While there wasn’t much of a height difference between them, Simon still had to tilt his up a tad to meet Wilhelm’s worried gaze.
Realization dawned on the prince as if someone poured a bucket of iced water on his head. He fucked up. Big time. He was never the best with words. The palace wrote down everything he needed to say. Line for line and word for word.
“The stress that you’re under?” Simon repeated, louder. More heated, crackling like embers from a fire.
Wilhelm flinched and kept quiet as Simon took a step forward, out of his warm and safe house into the chilly January air.
“You do not know how much pain and humiliation and suffering I’ve been through in the past month,” Simon spat and took a step closer to Wilhelm, who was frozen in place. “All of which you caused, might I add! You don’t get to use these bullshit ‘I was forced to deny the claims’ and ‘I don’t have a choice in anything’ excuses. You weren’t forced to do anything. You chose to lie. To the public, to yourself, and to me.
You come here begging for me to understand your perspective even though you left me alone when I needed you most. You said we were in this together and guess what? You lied. And that fucking hurt, Wille,” Simon sniffed. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes, the flush rising to his cheeks, and the snot building in his nose. He used the sleeve of his purple hoodie to scrub at his eyes and nose.
God, why did he get out of bed today?
Wilhelm, for the first time during their exchange, was speechless.
The air was calm around them; in the distance, cars traveled along paved roads and birds chirped atop trees. Simon didn’t need to turn around to feel his mother and sister’s eyes peering at him through the closed curtains in the kitchen.
Simon and Wilhelm looked, really looked at each other for the first time in weeks.
Wilhelm, for one, was not as put together as he might appear on the surface. His eye bags and chapped lips (still a lip biter, Simon mused) slightly visible through several layers of makeup. His hair was disheveled from the wind and from his anxious fidgeting on the car ride over. He told the Queen that he was visiting Felice, not that she had any problem with that. In fact, she seemed delighted that he was spending more time with a girl.
And Simon…
Well, it’s obvious how he’s doing. Maybe if he played up the broken hearted card, his mom would make spaghetti for dinner.
Down the street, a car horn blared, snapping the pair out of their trance.
Simon cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows expectedly as if to say ‘well?’
“I was scared.”
“What?”
“I was scared, okay!” Wilhelm yelled and tossed his hands in the air. “Fuck, Simme, I was terrified of being judged and—and insulted. They’ve already dissected me like a science experiment once and I couldn’t—wouldn’t do it again.”
Simon laughed mockingly. “There you go again with your ‘I can’t do this and I won’t do this’ talk, as if I don’t matter. Did you ever consider how I felt? How my family felt? How the interview would affect us? I’ll answer those questions for you: no, you didn’t.”
Wilhelm ran a hand through his hair. “I was under a lot of pressure! Try having your mom being there Queen of the entire fucking country!” He argued, his pupils flared.
“God, you’re so fucking selfish. What did I ever see in you?”
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
He was wasting his time and breath.
“Last I checked, you were the one who kissed me first,” Wilhelm spat. He knew he was losing his temper, he needed to calm down and act rationally. Crown princes don’t get angry or misbehave. But they certainly don’t kiss boys with angelic voices and curly hair.
“And I don’t see you complaining about it.”
Wilhelm smirked. “Why would I?”
“God, I can’t believe you! You’re so…” Simon’s eyes were wild. Curling his fists and holding back a snarl, “infuriating! Just shut the fuck up!”
“Make me—mmph!”
Those two words flipped a switch in Simon. One second he was ready to punch the crowned prince, the next he’s kissing him as if his life depended on it.
With a vice grip on Wilhelm’s jacket, Simon squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a bruising kiss to chapped lips. He put all his anger and frustration and sadness and longing into the kiss in hopes that Wilhelm would understand the pain he caused (and if he’s lucky, he would be able to fix it). If he were a natural disaster, he would be a volcano. With molten lava words and smokey kisses that left you breathless.
Though he was surprised at first, Wilhelm would never pass up an opportunity to kiss Simon Eriksson. His hands found their way to his hips, thumbing the purple cotton fabric. His brain buzzed happily and all his worries seemed to melt away in that moment. The world didn’t exist outside their perfect little bubble.
Simon’s heart was racing a mile a minute. As if it leaped out of his heart and onto the nearest motorcycle, driving into the sunset without a care in the world. And while his brain was screaming at him to stop and pull and run and hide, he ignored them. For once, he will ignore them and allow himself to feel content.
Their heated molten kiss eventually cooled into something softer, sweeter.
Familiar.
All good things must come to an end and Simon was the first to pull away. His cheeks were flushed, pupils blown out. And while Wilhelm was in no better state, he tilted his head back and laughed, unbothered by the concerned looks from his bodyguards. He was happy and that’s all that mattered. Simon bit his lip to hide his smile, burying his face in the taller boy’s shoulder.
Wilhelm’s mouth curled into a smile.
“Miss me that much?”
“Shut up,” Simon replied, muffled by the fabric.
“Make me.”
And Simon was a man of his word. He pulled him into another kiss and Wilhelm let him, having no intention of letting him go.
Not again. Not ever.