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Wille wakes up in a cold sweat, afraid and shivering, trying to make sense of what’s real and what’s still the dream.
He can’t exactly remember what images were in his mind while he was asleep, but he can still smell blood, feel the absolute dread of knowing that Simon is dead. A dream, Wille repeats to himself, a hand on his pounding heart, just a dream.
But minutes pass, and he can’t calm down, he can’t shake the feeling, and he knows he’s about to start panicking.
He checks his phone – 2.18AM. Could be worse.
He makes one last desperate attempt at calming himself down, really not wanting to bother Simon at this time of night. But there’s no use, his heart is still racing, his hands won’t stop trembling, and the only thing he thinks could help is to have Simon in his arms, safe and sound.
Biting his lip, trying not to hate himself for it, he calls Simon.
It rings for what feels like minutes, to the point where Wille is about to give up and deal with himself on his own, when Simon’s sleepy voice says, “Wille? Are you okay? Are you high on the football field again?”
Wille would chuckle if the relief of hearing Simon’s voice wasn’t more overpowering. “Sorry, I–” And he figures he should tell Simon he’s okay first, “–I’m fine, nothing’s wrong. Well, kind of.”
“What is it?” Simon asked, his voice sounding more worried.
“I had a really bad dream,” Wille gets to the point. “Sorry, I know it’s late. I didn’t want to bother you, I just needed to know you’re okay.” He omits the fact that, honestly, the only thing that would truly help is to see him face to face.
“I’m okay,” Simon reassures him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” Wille says, a bit of a lie.
Simon is quiet for a second. “Do you want me to go?” Thank God, Wille thinks to himself, that Simon knows exactly what he needs.
Wille doesn’t really answer with words, more like a weird, vaguely positive sound, hoping Simon will understand.
He does, obviously, like always. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Wille doesn’t want to hang up, but he knows there’s no other option. He’s thankful enough that Simon is going as far as to come see him at this time of night.
He waits, silently, lonely, hugging his pillow as a replacement for Simon’s body, anxiously waiting for him.
The knock on the window startles him. He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten out of bed this fast.
Wille opens the window to let Simon in, and Wille wants to act normal, but he can’t help but embrace Simon as soon as he’s within reach. Simon is still halfway outside when Wille gets a hold of him, and Simon can barely move with how tightly Wille is hugging him.
Simon hugs him back nonetheless, but he still lets him know, “Wille, let me in, someone’s gonna see me.”
Wille makes another noise, letting go of Simon but holding his hand to help him get inside. “Sorry.”
And then they’re standing in the middle of Wille’s room, staring into each other’s eyes.The look of worry in Simon’s face makes Wille almost feel guilty, almost like he’s been overreacting.
“What happened?” Simon asks him.
Wille has to swallow hard before answering, trying not to break down. “You died. In my dream. I don’t remember much but– What I felt when I woke up...”
Simon kisses him, slow and lovingly and reassuring. “I’m okay,” Simon tells him. “Promise.”
Wille nods. “Thank you,” he tells Simon, so sincere and honest he almost feels vulnerable.
“You owe me, that was a really long bike ride,” Simon says, obviously joking, but Wille pouts at him anyway.
“Sorry,” he says, hugging Simon again, maybe too tightly.
The smile is obvious in Simon’s voice. “Don’t be, it’s okay. I’m here for you, always. You know that, right?” Simon squeezes him hard. “For anything and everything.”
“I know,” Wille says. “Thank you,” he adds again. “We should go to sleep.”
Simon nods, letting Wille go even though Wille could stay the rest of the night pressed against him.
“I wanna be the little spoon,” Simon tells him.
It makes Wille smile, something he really thought wasn’t gonna be able to do after that fucking dream. “I was about to ask you to be. I want to hold you.”
Simon, smiling too, grabs Wille’s hand and guides them to the bed. It only takes them a second to get comfortable, already knowing the movements by memory after so many cuddle sessions, Simon’s back warm against Wille’s chest.
Wille is squeezing Simon as hard as he can, breathing into his neck, eyes closed and slowly starting to calm down.
“Wille, you’re pressing me too hard,” Simon says, a bit of a laugh in his voice. “I can’t breathe.”
“Suck it up,” Wille says, jokingly, as he lets Simon go just enough for him to get air back in his lungs. “This better?”
Simon nods. “Let’s sleep, yeah?” Wille nods behind him. “Good night.”
It’s the best sleep Wille has gotten in a while.
An alarm wakes Wille up from his deep sleep, then he realizes he doesn’t recognize the ringtone and is truly confused until he remembers Simon is with him, so it must be his.
Just like he thought, Simon is pulling away from him to reach the nightstand and turn the alarm off from his phone, quickly typing something before he’s lying back down.
“Morning,” Simon tells him, an arm wrapping around Wille’s waist.
“Hm,” is the best answer Wille can give right now. He forces himself to wake up just enough to ask, “What time is it?”
“Early, we can sleep for another hour,” Simon explains. “I just needed to text my mom I’m coming here early to finish a project or she’s gonna wake up and worry if she doesn’t see me in my bed.”
Wille pouts, remembering last night. “Sorry.”
Simon shakes his hand, pecking Wille on the lips. “Don’t be. Feeling better?”
“Loads,” Wille answers him, a smile creeping up on his face. “We have an extra hour, you say?”
“We do.”
“I think I have an idea better than sleeping,” Wille tells him, fully smirking now. “Can I take your clothes off?”
Simon smiles back. “Can I be a pillow princess this one time?”
Wille laughs. “You can be whatever you want.”
So Wille takes care of undressing Simon and unraveling him. It’s the least he can do.