Work Text:
From the back seat of Felice’s fancy car, seated on expensive leather and surrounded by tiny water bottles and bougie snacks, Simon frowns down at his phone. He’s riding with Maddie and Felice to Felice’s family’s lake house and, apparently, his boyfriend has already arrived. They were a bit slow with getting on the road since Simon had slept past his alarm and had to scramble to get ready, then because the girls wanted to stop for coffee and pastries, so they’re behind schedule––Wille wasn’t supposed to get there first. The thing is that Felice was the one to get a notification from Wille, not Simon, which means that his suspicions were right: something’s off with Wille.
When Wille first went to Finland for his terrafae program a month ago, he had texted Simon constantly; flooding his phone with pictures of the campus, selfies in his dorm mirror, and texts saying he missed him. It had taken him about a week to settle into his new routine at the program, and then the texts started gradually becoming more sporadic until Wille wouldn’t text at all unless it was in response to Simon. He doesn’t know what changed between them while Wille was gone, but it’s been making his stomach churn and sour as he tries to think of all of the possible reasons for the growing chasm between them. Did Wille meet someone at the program? An earth fairy who understood him better than Simon ever could? Did he decide that he wanted to pack up and move to rural Finland forever? Did he realize he doesn’t even want a boyfriend right now? There are so many possibilities and none of them feel good to think about, so Simon has actively been avoiding thinking about them for the past two weeks. Until now, that is, when he’s moments away from seeing Wille for the first time in a month.
“I’m so excited to go swimming,” Maddie exclaims from the front seat. Simon and Felice are sitting in the back together, empty coffee cups and pastry crumbs between them.
“Same,” Felice says, typing something on her phone before putting it in her pocket. “I told Wille where the spare key is, so it should be unlocked when we get there.”
Simon doesn’t have a text from Wille saying that he’s gotten inside. He doesn’t have a selfie of Wille smiling in front of the probably lavish bed they’ll be sharing while they’re at the lake house. He doesn’t have anything after Wille’s text saying that he landed over three hours ago.
“You okay?” Felice asks him, her brows knitted together in worry.
He sighs and shrugs, shoving his phone angrily into his pocket. “I’m just nervous to see Wille,” he admits.
Half of him expects Felice to be confused and to ask him why he’s nervous and not just excited, but something softens in her eyes instead. “You two just need to talk,” she says, ominously.
Simon knows better than to try to get any information out of her––she’s Wille’s friend before his, so she’ll keep whatever secrets Wille has asked her to keep. Once upon a time, Wille used to ask Simon to keep his secrets.
When they pull up to the lake house, it’s just as extravagant as he had imagined. It’s a mix of modern and rustic with wooden beams, iron details, and floor-to-ceiling glass windows off the back of the house, giving a perfect view of the picturesque lake on the horizon. There are two floors, he’s been told, and he and Wille have been assigned to the master bedroom on the second floor, which is apparently right next to the library (because even a summer vacation home has to have a library, he supposes. Just rich kid things.) The three of them pile out of the car and around the to the trunk to grab their bags, but Felice sets her back on the ground and flies over to the front door of the house, throwing her arms around something and squealing in delight. With his duffle slung over his shoulder, Simon looks over to her, curious, and sees that it’s Wille she’s hugging so desperately. Jealously flares up in Simon’s chest like a rouge flame, but he tamps it down––he doesn’t need to set something on fire before he’s even stepped inside the house. Instead, he makes his way over to them and clears his throat, gritting his teeth as the two of them yelp in surprise in spring apart.
Wille looks different than he did before the program. His hair is longer now, in a sort of mullet style instead of the floppy bangs he had when they first met, and his skin has gotten some color from all the time he spent outside. But his clothes are different, too––loose slacks and a thin, blue blouse-type shirt, nails painted silver. The way he’s holding himself is almost…freer? He looks more relaxed than Simon has ever seen him, which quickly changes as soon as they make eye contact. As soon as Simon meets those familiar brown eyes flecked with green, Wille’s shoulder hunch and his jaw clenches like he’s almost afraid of Simon now. What the fuck happened in Finland?
“Do I get a hug, too?” Simon asks, unable to keep the slight irritation out of his voice.
Wille buffers for a moment before nodding. “O––Of course, of course,” he mumbles, wrapping tentative arms around Simon like they haven’t hugged a thousand times before––like they haven’t done anything far more intimate than hugging. He’s treating Simon like he’s a threat or something, like Simon’s very presence is somehow unnerving, and it’s pissing Simon off. What did he do to deserve this? He wasn’t the one who fucked off to Finland for a month and apparently changed so much that he can’t even look his boyfriend in the eye without looking like he’s on the brink of a panic attack.
Here, in Wille’s arms, he smells the same as he did the last time they saw each other––like pine needles and honey, warm and fresh and so Wille that Simon feels tears spring to his eyes.
He pulls back, putting space between them. He isn’t sure how to be around this new Wille right now––the Wille that apparently doesn’t like him anymore.
“I’ll let you two talk,” Felice says gently with a squeeze to Wille’s shoulder before she turns away to help Maddie with the luggage.
Simon and Wille stand on the stoop awkwardly for a moment before Wille flushes and gestures to the duffle bag on Simon’s shoulder. “Can I take that for you?”
Simon shrugs it off and wordlessly hands it to Wille. Wille takes it and pushes the door open, holding it for Simon so he can step in first.
The inside of the house is just as nice as the outside, done up with clean, modern furnishings and accents of warm brown leather. He barely has time to take it all in before Wille is putting a hand on his elbow, making him look up at him.
“This way,” he says, gesturing to the staircase tucked against the wall by the door.
Simon follows him up the stairs, down a hall, and then into a room with a king-sized bed. Wille closes the door behind them before dropping Simon’s duffle on the built-in seat below the large window across from the bed.
Simon swallows nervously and sits down on the bed, knowing that he’ll sleep like a baby on this plush mattress later, and watches as Wille nervously paces in front of him, bringing his nail to his mouth and chewing on it as he tries to figure out what to say.
“Could you just,” Simon snaps, “tell me why you suddenly don’t like me anymore?”
Wille freezes, eyes blown wide as he blinks back at Simon. “What?”
Simon groans. “Like, clearly something happened in Finland and now you want to break up, so if you could just tell me what happened, that’d be great.”
“Why––You think I want to break up with you?”
Simon blinks, now confused. Isn’t that what Wille has been hinting at for weeks? Didn’t something happen that made Wille pull away from him? “Yes?”
Wille shakes his head and moves to sit next to Simon on the bed, taking Simon’s hand in his own and weaving their fingers together.
Simon is so fucking confused right now.
“Something did happen in Finland, but I don’t want to break up with you,” Wille tells him, voice a bit wobbly. “I never want to break up with you.”
Well, that alleviates some of the weight that’s been pushing down on Simon’s chest for the past two weeks. He sighs in relief.
“But,” Wille continues after a moment, “I think you might want to break up with me.”
Simon is shaking his head before the words finish spilling from Wille’s mouth because, seriously, what the fuck? Why would Simon ever want to break up with Wille? Why would he ever choose a life without Wille by his side when having Wille has been the best thing to ever happen to him?
He remembers, distantly, the night they learned they could weave their magics together to feel what the other was feeling. They were sitting in Simon’s bed in Bjärstad, their bodies pressed together, their hearts beating in tandem. Wille had closed his eyes and opened himself up to Simon, his magic swirling around between them while Simon’s magic roared to meet it, the green and red of their magics blending into one. In that moment, Simon could feel Wille’s love for him blooming in his chest, taking his breath away. Wille said he could feel Simon’s love, too, stoking gentle fires in his heart. It had been the perfect night––it had cemented the idea that they were made for each other and that their magics were somehow united, and wasn’t that incredible? They had kissed and kissed and kissed after that moment, with Wille pushing Simon into the mattress and using his magic to tell Simon how much he loved him, using his tongue to show him.
Simon misses the intimacy of that night. He misses how inseparable they felt back then and how unstoppable their magic had made him feel.
“Wille, no. Why would you––I love you, okay? Always.”
Wille worries their bottom lip between his teeth, very pointedly avoiding Simon’s intent gaze.
“Please just talk to me,” Simon begs, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of Wille’s hand. “Please, mi amor. Just…tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
Simon thinks that Wille is about to tell him that he cheated on him at the program. He doesn’t think Wille would cheat, not really, but it’s the only thing that makes sense to him right now. Why else would Wille say that Simon would want to break up with him after hearing this? Why else would Wille be so afraid of him? Why else would there be such a painful distance between them?
Wille sighs and runs his free hand through his hair. “I realized that the earth and earth magic have shaped my identity in ways I didn’t even think about,” Wille says after a moment. “I…nature doesn’t have gender, or, like, it’s all of the genders at once. I can’t describe it, really, but I felt it when I was there—I could feel the beauty and complexity humming all around me and lighting my senses on fire.” He pauses again, considering. “I’m like nature,” he whispers, his eyes still not on Simon, still set intently on his shoes. “I’m not…I’m not a boy.”
And…oh.
Simon blinks as he lets it soak in, as his brain processes his boyfriend’s (is Wille still his boyfriend?) very roundabout way of coming out to him. The distance between them makes so much sense now––Wille was scared that…what? That Simon wouldn’t love Wille just the same, if not more, than he always has?
“Wille,” Simon pleads, placing careful fingertips on Wille’s jaw, aching to look into Wille’s green flecked eyes.
Wille goes willingly, eyes wide and shining and so, so afraid. Simon hates to see that fear there, especially if it's because of him. Wille deserves nothing but love and happiness and unconditional support, and Simon is going to his damndest to give it to them.
“I love you,” he promises, “just the way you are. However you are.”
He thinks back to the time where Wille didn’t have wings or magic yet, but how Simon was still so in love that he felt like it would set him on fire. He’s always loved Wille, in every shape and form that Wille has been, and he can’t wait to love Wille in this new way, too. What else will he discover about the love of his life? What new aspects of Wille will this revelation unlock? He can’t wait to find out––he can’t wait to be by Wille’s side for all of it.
“Really?” Wille asks, voice so close to breaking. “Even if I’m…even if I’m everything all at once? Or none of it at all?”
Simon smiles and nods. Wipes the stray tear from under Wille’s beautiful, kind eyes. “I love you, not your magic or your wings or your gender. Just you, Wille. Always.”
Wille grins and flops into Simon’s chest, knocking the wind out of him as he laughs and tangles his fingers in Wille’s new hair. Wille hums in appreciation, clearly content to just stay hidden against Simon’s chest.
“Do you think you could, uh, explain it to me? Just what is and isn’t okay to say or call you? I don’t want to make you feel invalid or…dysphoric or anything. Is that the right word?”
Wille pushes back from Simon’s chest but doesn’t go far, instead resting against Simon’s shoulder with their hands intertwined between them.
“I started using he/they pronouns in the program,” Wille offers, “and it just…yeah. It made me really happy.”
Simon grins, placing a kiss to the back of Wille’s hand, reveling in the warmth of their suntanned skin. Now that they’ve said it out loud, Simon can see it so clearly. Even before, when they were clearly still struggling with their identity in so many different ways, they liked having longer hair, trying nail polish, and pushing the boundaries of what society has deemed “masculine” and “feminine.” The more Simon thinks about it, the more he realizes that Wille has always just been…Wille. Gender hasn’t really factored in with them, and it makes Simon so happy to see these pieces of a puzzle coming together in such a wonderful way. He knows that Wille has had one hell of a year between transferring to Hillerska, dealing with August, taking shit from their family, getting their magic and wings, everything that happened with Simon, and even everything that happened with Erik, so he knows what a big deal this is. Between all of that heartbreak and pain, Wille has managed to emerge stronger and more certain of themself than they ever have been, and Simon is so achingly proud.
“And I still want to be your boyfriend,” they continue thoughtfully, their eyebrows scrunched up adorably as they think about it. “I like…I like being yours. Your boyfriend.”
Simon can’t help but grin more and, really, he feels like his cheeks are aching from the sheer magnitude of his smiles in the past few minutes. Wille has always had that effect on him, thought—always able to make him smile and giggle and feel so full of love.
“I like it, too,” Simon grins, "being yours.”
Wille pulls him in for a soft kiss, and it feels like they’re doing it out of necessity. It feels…it makes Simon feel like he’s vital.
“Anything else I should know?” Simon asks when they pull apart, their foreheads resting together.
Wille hums in thought before shaking their head, their longer hair flopping a bit as they do. “No, I think that’s all. I’m still figuring it out, you know?”
Simon nods and brushes their noses together. “Yeah, I get it. And I’m excited to figure it out with you.”
Wille closes their eyes and Simon does too, both of them focusing on their magics running through their veins. Right now, they use the connection to check in with each other and to reunite their magics, feeling the way Wille’s earthy, musty magic fuses and dances with Simon’s hot, chaotic magic. When they feel their magics reconnect, they sigh and open their eyes, looking into each other’s eyes.
Wille’s eyes stare back at him, brown flecked with green, and Simon can’t help but pull them into a kiss. He’s so excited to keep exploring things with Wille—to keep learning more about each other, to keep trying to understand how their magics intersect, and to keep loving each other through everything life throws at them.
Simon can feel it in the aftershocks of Wille’s magic—they’re forever.
