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Simon had always dreamed of visiting Germany around Christmas time.
It may have been because his cousins used to hype it up so much whenever they called to wish the Erikssons a Merry Christmas. And they had spoken so highly of the Christmas markets with all of the cute little huts housing stalls where vendors sold all kinds of small trinkets, the delicious food and warm fruit punch and mulled wine, and the thousands upon thousands of lights twinkling in the night as throngs of people moved underneath to the steady rhythm of christmas music. And for some reason, when he had imagined it, dreamed of standing underneath the fairy lights looking up at a night sky dotted with stars twinkling down on him, the whole imaginary scene had always been dusted in a layer of snow, and large flakes had danced through the air filled with the scent of burning candles and fir trees.
It was quite the disappointment then, when he finally stood at the entrance to his first Christmas market in Germany. No snow was covering the ground in a soft blanket, instead, the ground was still wet from when it had rained earlier that day. And the sun hadn't quite gone down yet, so the lights hadn't even been switched on yet. Sighing softly, he buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and followed his mother, sister and aunt over the wet pavement.
Maybe it was the fact that there was no snow lying on the small huts despite the cold air creeping in between the layers of his clothes, or maybe they were just a little early, since night hadn’t quite fallen yet so the lights couldn’t quite sparkle underneath the starlight. Or maybe it was just the fact that Simon felt a little helpless, since he didn’t understand a single word spoken around him as the crowds grew thicker and forced him closer to Sara who watched the stalls with big, round eyes. But the magic of German Christmas markets just… didn't hit. “Have you seen anything you like yet?” His question was gentle, his breath escaping in little puffy clouds, and Sara leaned against him as she looped her arm through his.
“No, I’m not interested in crystals or leather bags, even though the one with the horse on it is very pretty. Mamma seems to really like those warm socks Tía Maribell pulled her over to though.” They chuckled a little as they watched Linda Eriksson gush excitedly in her spanish mother tongue, debating with her favourite sister about the quality of the wool used in a pair of socks that probably cost way more than it was worth. Simon decided to memorise the stall and the pair of socks anyways, it might make a good gift this year. After all, his mother often complained that she was cold during the long winters. She had never quite gotten used to the colder temperatures in Sweden, despite having left her native Venezuela more than 18 years ago now.
Once Linda and Maribell managed to tear themselves from the vendor - without socks, to Simon’s delight - the group made their way towards the centre of the market, walking underneath strings of lights that spanned the walkways between the huts. For a moment, Simon could almost see the appeal, could almost feel the Christmas spirit taking a hold of him. Being here, with his mother and sister, far away from the bullies that made Sara's life at Marieberg so difficult, and their drunkard of a father who, despite the divorce being finalised this year and the family asking him to not contact them, still tried to call almost every weekend during the runup to Christmas, it almost seemed like this truly was a magical place.
High above the roofs of the little huts, a ferris wheel stretched into the slowly darkening sky, and for a moment, Simon wondered how the Christmas market may look from up on high once night had properly fallen, with the lights illuminating the huts and all the people making their way through the alleyways. But before he could properly imagine the scene, his mother hooked her arm into the bend of his elbow on the opposite side of Sara and smiled up at him when he turned his attention to her. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Simon just nodded and hummed a confirmation, glad to see his mother enjoy herself so much. She deserved the break, after the year they had. “You two don’t need to stick with Maribell and me all the time, by the way. If you want to explore, go ahead. We can always meet back up under the ferris wheel. Maribell says that there’s a stall there that sells very tasty mulled wine and non-alcoholic warm fruit punch. So why don’t you and Sara go and have a little fun instead of following us old ladies around all evening?”
Before Simon could reply that of course they weren’t old, and he didn’t mind walking around with them, Sara already chimed in with a quick “Okay,” and under their mother’s laughter, she pulled him away before he could protest too much.
“Sara, that wasn’t very nice!” His admonishment seemed to fall on deaf ears, as Sara was already pulling him over to a stall seemingly selling some kind of candy. Only when they were standing there did she turn to him and fix him with one of her stares.
“She said it’s okay, she’ll be fine. She has aunt Maribell, after all. And they probably want to talk a bit without us overhearing.” Simon looked back at his mother and aunt, but Linda and Maribell had already stepped off to a stall selling wooden Christmas decorations. They really didn’t seem to mind the children doing their own thing. A little relieved that his mother seemed to relax at last, Simon turned his attention to the wares of the stall. The air underneath the awning smelled sweet, with the scent of caramelised almonds, candied apples and hot sugar filling the space as a fresh wand of cotton candy was being prepared for a young child smiling brightly at the sugary treat forming in front of their eyes.
Simon couldn’t help but smile as he flung his arm over Sara’s shoulder, pulling her close. “Anything you want? I’m paying.” Sara chuckled happily, leaning her head against Simon’s.
“No, and you should use your money to buy yourself something… but I want to explore and get some mulled wine, so let’s go!” With this, she pulled away from the stand, tugging on Simon’s arm to follow.
An hour later, night had finally started to fall in earnest and the fairy lights were starting to stand out against the dark sky. Sara had managed to get Simon towards the stalls selling both alcoholic and non-alcoholic hot drinks, and was currently two glasses of mulled wine in. Simon meanwhile observed the people walking around the food stalls, reddened cheeks and smiling faces all around as people slowly started to get buzzed.
His eyes were drawn to the figure of a boy standing off to the side a little, currently struggling to get the glove on his right hand off while holding his phone in his left. He seemed to be around Simon’s age, and just a little bit taller. His blond, somewhat longer hair framed his face that Simon couldn’t quite make out at this distance. Something in his appearance kept Simon’s eyes drawn to him, even when Sara nudged his shoulder and giggled. “Oooh, found a cute german guy, huh? Why don’t you go over and say hi?”
Simon huffed and shook his head, ready to tell Sara he wouldn’t just go up to a complete stranger in a city he didn’t know, in a foreign country, when he didn’t even speak his language. But then the boy stuffed his glove into his pocket and started to type away one handedly, only that his glove did not stay inside the pocket of his coat. No, it decided to slip from the opening, flopping down onto the ground as the boy slowly wandered off.
Without much thought, Simon hurried over, accompanied by Sara’s laughter, and picked up the brown leather glove. It felt soft in Simon’s hand, its material clearly of superior quality. It was probably expensive, meaning it was even more tragic if it was lost. Quickly, Simon rushed after the boy, reaching out for his shoulder. “Excuse me?”
~ ♡ ~
The day couldn’t have gone much worse.
Not only that Wille hadn’t really been able to spend much time with Erik without photographers and people from the charity taking his brother’s attention for most of the day. No, when Wille had begged him to go to the nearby Christmas market with him, Erik had only shook his head.
“Come on, Erik! It’s my first official trip, and it’s almost Christmas. We could just dip out for a moment, enjoy the spectacle, and we’ll be back before anyone recognizes us. I’m sure Malin and Joakim wouldn’t mind the trip either!”
Erik had sighed at Wille’s whining, shaking his head again. “I have an event I have to go to, the charity is hosting a gala dinner in my honour, and it’ll look really bad if I don’t show up. I know you want to have some fun, but this isn’t a vacation. It’s an official visit to the most important cooperation partner of the charity I champion.”
At his brother’s words, Wille quickly shuffled closer, wrapping his arms around Erik’s middle and pouting his bottom lip. “Can I come along then? I don’t want to be cooped up in the hotel room all alone…”
Warm hands wrapped around his shoulders, and Erik’s head leaned heavy on Wille’s, a sigh breaking from his throat. “I’m sorry, but there will be alcohol, it will go late into the night, and you’re only 15. I really can’t take you along, or else I would.”
Wille disentangled himself at these words, flopping unceremoniously onto Erik’s bed in the large bedroom of their shared suite and staring at the ceiling before he closed his eyes. “It’s not fair. Why did Mamma even let me tag along if I’m not allowed to do anything? I wanted to have a nice weekend with my favourite brother…”
He was met with a snorting laughter as Erik straightened his tie. “I’m your only brother, Wille…” The bed dipped slightly as Erik sat down on the edge, gently carding his fingers through Wille’s hair. “Look, perhaps I can get out of the event after a while, but I can’t promise anything. But why don’t I ask Malin to stay behind and keep an eye on you, and if you happen to decide to slip out and explore the Christmas market nearby… well, she can’t exactly stop you, can she?”
Wille’s heart skipped a beat at his brother's proposal. Was it possible? “Wait, she can’t tell me to stay inside?”
The reply was another chuckle, and Erik patted his head affectionately. “No, she’s tasked with keeping us safe, not locked up. If you decide to leave, it’s on her to figure out how to keep you safe while you’re doing what you want to do.”
A smile spread over Wille’s face as he nodded quickly. He liked Malin, she was one of the nicer bodyguards looking after his brother. Not as stern and strict as Joakim, Erik's other senior protection officer, but just as capable. Spending the evening with her at the Christmas market might not be the worst option if he couldn't spend his time with his brother as he had planned.
And this was how he found himself walking across the small distance separating the hotel entrance and the cosy christmas market that had been set up in the surrounding squares, strings of light glistening wetly from the earlier drizzle. It probably wasn't cold enough to actually wear the leather gloves his grandfather had left him, but for some reason, Wille had felt nostalgic and grabbed them before leaving the suite, giving Malin a small nod as he pulled them on while he walked to the elevator.
Immediately, Wille was hit with the scent of Christmas, soft music playing in his ear from the speakers dispersed around the vicinity. For a while, he simply wandered, almost forgetting that Malin followed him closely as he immersed himself in the Christmas Spirit that assaulted all his senses.
After a while, he found himself drawn towards the ferris wheel in the distance, arriving at what seemed to be an area devoted to food and drink. Just as he stared up at the ferris wheel, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he quickly stepped aside, off the main walkway, to fish it out of his coat.
A message-notification from Erik blinked up at him, and Wille couldn't suppress a small smile. Was his brother already so bored that he was texting? Wille taped on the screen, only for nothing to happen. Right. The gloves. Shuffling his phone over to his left hand, Wille tried grasping the tips of the right glove, but it sat snugly, making him pull a little harder, almost sending the phone clattering to the paved stones of the plaza. Huffing a little, he shoved it in his pocket, quickly hitting the notification to read what Erik had to say.
Erik
Hey little brother, kinda wished I went to
the market with you. This gala dinner is the
most boring thing ever
Wille chuckled slightly, starting to type his reply one handed.
Wille
Well, I want to say I told you so, but
that would be cruel. Now you’re stu-
“Excuse me?”
Wille was in the middle of his reply when a soft voice broke through his focus, just before a hand touched his shoulder. He turned, and was met with the sight of a boy around his age, with dark, tousled curls and big brown eyes looking slightly up at him. For a moment, Wille struggled to breathe, but then he could make out Malin in his peripheral vision, ready to step between them, and he tore his eyes away to glance at her and slightly shake his head. It was subtle, hopefully, but it was just enough to make her take a step back, eyeing the pair wearily, ready to step in at the slightest hint of trouble.
With the bodyguard intercepted, Wille returned his attention to the boy in front of him, who spoke to him in english. He couldn't help but smile slightly, a warm feeling tugging up the corners of his lips. “Yes, what is it?” The boy returned the smile slightly, lifting his hand, and Wille glanced down to see- “My glove?”
“Yes, it fell from your pocket. I thought you didn't want to lose it.” There was a slight accent in the boy's English, but Wille couldn't quite place it. Still, he filed it away for later consideration, choosing to focus on the boy in front of him instead.
Carefully, Wille reached for the glove, his bare fingers brushing across the cold digits grasping the leather object. Maybe he just imagined it, but it seemed like the breath of the boy in front of him hitched at the contact, while Wille’s own heartbeat thudded heavily in his chest. “I… yeah, they were a gift from my grandfather. Thank you, it would have been sad to lose them like this.”
For a moment, the air seemed charged as they both kept their fingers on the glove, just looking at each other, before the boy in front him started to smile shyly and a blush formed on his cheeks. “I… I'll better go now,” he started, slowly slipping his fingers from the glove that had connected the two boys. No, he couldn't! Wille couldn't just let him go like this.
“Can I… as a thanks… Can I buy you something to drink?” Wille winced a little, his own cheeks heating up at the slight desperate tone in his voice. But the other boy just turned back around from where he had started to walk away, smiled and gave a small nod. Wille could feel his face break into a wide smile, and he quickly returned the nod and pushed the glove deeper into his pocket, alongside his phone. He could reply to Erik later.
“I… I'm Wille, by the way.” Why he chose to use his nickname instead of his real one, Wille didn't quite know. But it had slipped out, and if maybe, just maybe he could pretend the other didn't know who he was and he could just be an anonymous boy on a German Christmas market, it would be a small miracle.
The beautiful boy smiled shyly, nodding a bit. “Simon,” he replied, and Wille couldn't help but hope he would smile like this more often, his lips drawing forward a little as the corners of his lips tugged up, like his happiness was something private, something to hide away.
Wille found himself nodding again, something he seemingly couldn't stop doing around the boy. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, he cleared his throat, glancing around to find the nearest stall selling hot drinks. Spotting one just a few steps away, he gestured towards it, and Simon followed him eagerly.
Standing in the long line, Wille quickly read the menu, happy for once that his mother had badgered him with language lessons from an early age. “What would you like, Simon? Just as a warning, I probably can't buy anything with alcohol, since… well, I'm 15.” Shit, was this a weird thing to say? Simon seemed to be around his own age, but it was difficult to say exactly. Maybe Wille just made a massive fool out of himself. He couldn't buy alcohol in Germany at 15, right?.
But when he glanced at the boy standing next to him, he just found him softly smiling up at him instead. “That's fine, I don't drink. And I'm 15 as well, so it would be illegal anyway.”
Sighing a breath of relief, Wille nodded again, a habit he really needed to stop doing so much around Simon. “Okay, good, that's… that’s good. So, uhm… do you want hot chocolate, or fruit punch?”
Simon smiled up at him, red still dusting his cheeks, and Wille had to fight the urge to reach down and brush his fingers over the delicate skin. What was wrong with him? He hadn't ever thought about anyone like this, and now… now this German boy in a foreign country was literally driving him insane and taking his breath away. The boy who was blinking up at him now, with a slightly confused look. Oh. Had he answered?
Wille cleared his throat, his cheeks burning hot as he blinked rapidly. “Sorry, I… uhm… what was that?”
Simon's smile returned at that, a soft giggle accompanying it. “I said, hot chocolate sounds great.”
They shuffled closer, now at the front of the queue, and the worker behind the counter looked at them expectantly. Wille quickly cleared his throat, pulling out the best German he could muster while Simon was standing next to him. “Hallo. Zweimal Heiße Schokolade, bitte.”
The guy behind the counter nodded as he started to make the drinks, only to turn back quickly. “Mit Sahne oder ohne?”
Wille hesitated for a moment, turning around to look at Simon who just blinked at him, seemingly confused. Oh. Not a German boy then. Maybe also a tourist, just like Wille. He quickly translated the man’s question, “Do you want whipped cream?”, but Simon hesitated, humming softly as he seemed a bit lost, and there was a long line behind them, so Wille had to decide quickly. “Einmal mit, einmal ohne, bitte.” The guy shrugged, and Wille smiled at the adorably confused Simon who blinked up at him as their drinks got placed on the counter.
“Das macht 15.” Wille nodded, quickly pulling out a twenty euro bill from the small wallet Erik had slipped into his palm before leaving earlier in the evening, waiting for the vendor to return a fiver. After pocketing it, he quickly took the purple mugs with white winter scenes painted on them, and carried them a few steps, Simon on his heels.
Once they were out of the throng of people, Wille turned to the other boy, holding out both mugs. “Sorry, I had to decide quickly… you can choose, I like either option.”
Simon smiled softly, wrapping his hands around the mug adorned with a small mountain of whipped cream and chocolate powder. His cold fingers brushed against Wille's, who had to concentrate to not drop both mugs as a spark of electricity made its way up his arm and into his spine. “Thanks. You're so nice.” Simon's words were soft, so soft Wille wanted to lean closer just to hear him better, and maybe also to erase the distance between them.
Glancing around, Wille quickly searched for a way to keep Simon in his company, if only for a few minutes more. He spotted a few stalls selling knitwear a bit off to the side, and couldn't help but smile softly. Maybe Simon needed some gloves? His fingers did feel very cold. “Do you… do you want to walk with me a bit?”
He hoped he didn't sound desperate, but Simon didn't show it if he thought so, eagerly nodding at the suggestion. So Wille grasped his own mug with both hands, slowly walking with Simon towards the little huts where groups of people bunched around to gawk and prod at the wares.
It turned out, shopping on the Christmas market with Simon was fun. They stopped at a few stalls, Simon's eyes glinting at a few bits and pieces, and Wille had to refrain from buying anything the boy's eyes got slightly caught on. They made their way slowly around the area, chatting softly as their mugs emptied.
At one point, a soft white moustache formed on Simon's upper lip, causing Wille to chuckle softly. When Simon blinked up at him quizzically, Wille couldn't stop himself from reaching out and cupping his cheek, brushing his thumb gently over his lip. “You’ve got…” The words died in his throat at the astonished look on Simon’s face, and Wille quickly retreated his hand, clearing his throat as his face burned red hot. “You had some milk foam on your lip,” he hoarsely explained, and didn't dare to look at Simon as the boy made a short noise of confirmation.
Instead, Wille tried his best to focus on the stall they stood in front of. He glanced at the little figurines covering the entire display area when suddenly, their hands brushed, and Wille could hear Simon's breath hitch again, in time with his own. Perhaps it had been an accident. But whay if it hadn't?
Carefully, he extended his little finger, experimentally nudging against Simon's hand, his face still stubbornly turned towards a small glass snowman, complete with top hat and a cane. Wille could feel his heart beat loudly when his effort was rewarded with one of Simon's fingers softly running against Wille's. His stomach swooped at the gentle touch, barely there, easily denied if it came to that. But Wille didn't want Simon to deny the touch. He wanted to bask in it, openly hold Simon's hand and never let go. So he glanced down at where Simon’s right hand was slightly extended towards his own, before flicking his eyes up to see Simon looking at him, inquisitive and a little scared. When their eyes met, Simon gave a tiny smile, so tiny that Wille almost didn't catch it. It grew a little as Wille kept eye contact, and Simon's glance dipped ever so slightly downwards. Was he… was he looking at Wille's lips?
Simon's fingers wrapped softly around Wille's, just their ring- and little fingers intertwining, but it made Wille's stomach flutter as he glanced at the display in front of them, a small smile tugging at his own lips. He tightened his fingers around Simon's, and he was rewarded with Simon's thumb running softly against the outside edge of his palm. Looking back over at Simon as their smiles grew, Wille closed the little gap between them, their shoulders brushing as their hands fully intertwined.
Glancing over towards the other side of the stall, Wille discovered a few snowglobes, and he quickly gestured towards them, which Simon eagerly acknowledged by pulling Wille over towards them.
Most of the little glass globes displayed different wintery scenes, Santas and Angels and children building snowmen underneath a Christmas tree. One caught Wille’s eye though, a small glass globe containing a frog with a crown. He couldn't help but laugh softly as he reached out with his free hand, his mug momentarily abandoned on the edge of the stall. “My brother has one just like this,” he quickly explained, earning a soft noise from Simon.
“Is he older or younger?” Simon’s voice was close as he leaned against Wille’s shoulder, maybe just to get a closer look at the snow globe, but Wille chose to believe he wanted to be closer, that he wanted, just like Wille, to eradicate the little distance there was between them.
“Older by three years. His name is Erik.” Maybe it was foolish to tell Simon this, maybe it had been a miracle that Simon hadn't recognized him yet and it would be this information he needed to finally put two and two together.
But Simon just smiled and nodded with a soft sigh. “I have a sister, Sara. She’s a year older than me, and she's always teasing me about it because she can buy mulled wine here and I can't. Not that I want to, I'm not a big fan of alcohol.”
Wille glanced at Simon, finding him chewing a bit on his cheek. There was something slightly anxious about it, like Simon hadn't meant to say that, to reveal this small bit of information about himself. So Wille decided to just ignore the last part and focus on their shared fate as a younger brother. “Are you and your sister close?”
Simon smiled gently at that, nodding. “Yeah, really close. We’re here on vacation with our mother, we’re visiting our tía Maribell and her family. They are around here somewhere.”
Immediately, Wille felt guilt creep up in his stomach. “Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to steal you away from them!”
But before he could get worked up over it, Simon chuckled and shook his head, eyes glinting brightly in the twinkling glow of the fairy lights high above them. “Don't worry, my mother sent me and Sara off a while ago, and Sara actually…” Simon hesitated for a moment, a soft blush rising on his cheeks. “She told me to go over and say hi when I saw you across the square. I was a bit embarrassed to just go up to you, but then you dropped your glove, and… well…”
Wille chuckled gently, squeezing Simon’s hand softly. “Well, I'm glad you decided to return my glove to me. Not just because I really would have been sad to lose them, but also because it meant we got to meet.”
Simon's smile at that was radiant, and he bit his lip slightly as he pulled up his shoulders in an adorably flustered gesture. Wille could barely take his eyes off him, but Simon glanced over towards a different stall and made a small noise. “Oh, would it… would you mind if I quickly buy my mom's Christmas present?”
Wille looked over to what Simon had spotted, a stall selling warm socks, scarfs, gloves and woollen beanies. Perfect, just the kind of stall Wille had first intended to drag Simon towards in order to buy him some gloves. “Oh, no, that's fine, I can buy a present there as well.”
Simon beamed at him, and after grabbing the abandoned mug, Wille quickly followed him to the stall. Simon was already holding a pair of soft, warm socks, eyeing the price before nodding. His face must have shown Wille's confusion, because Simon looked up at him with a smile and explained. “My mom is always freezing in winter. She is from Venezuela, and moved to Europe after meeting my Dad when he vacationed there. So she always has cold feet in winter, and she was really excited about this pair earlier.”
Wille filed away the information Simon eagerly provided. So he was Latino, and lived somewhere where winters got cold. Something Wille could relate to just too well. “Where in Europe do you live? It's not Germany, or you would have understood the drinks vendor…”
Simon chuckled, shaking his head gently. “Yeah, I don't speak German at all. I'm from Sweden, actually.”
Sweden.
Wille felt like the floor was being pulled out from under him. So Simon must know who he was. Must know that he was currently holding hands with the Prince of his own country. How could he not?
Swallowing thickly, Wille averted his eyes, suddenly too aware of their intertwined fingers and the soft scent of Simon so close to him. “You… you are from Sweden?” Switching to Swedish now, Wille glanced at Simon for confirmation, dreading what he would see looking back at him.
But all he saw was Simon's astonished face that broke out into a big smile. “No way. You too? How big are the odds I run into another Swede in the middle of Germany? I thought you were German the whole time!” Simon shoved gently against Wille's chest, who breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know how, but Simon truly didn't know who he was. “And here I am, trying my hardest not to make a fool of myself with my English, when we could have just spoken Swedish the whole time.”
A giddy laugh broke from Wille's throat at the revelation that he was still an ordinary guy to Simon, just Wille. “Well, better late than never,” he replied with a smile, earning a chuckle from Simon. Quickly, he shook the dread that had settled from his shoulders, his hand falling on a pair of soft woollen gloves. “Hey, these look cosy. Might help keep your fingers warm?”
When he looked at Simon, he was met with an incredibly fond look that made his heartbeat pick up speed. Simon leaned closer, his head almost leaning against Wille’s shoulder. “I don't know, I don't think I need them when you’re doing a fine job of it already?” The blush on Simon’s cheeks was back, and Wille could feel his own cheeks heat at his words, this overt flirting frying what little brain he had. He struggled to find a response, so he simply squeezed Simon’s hand a little tighter, a gesture that Simon returned before he used his free hand to grab something else. “Oh, but this would look really good on you!”
Wille glanced at the object in Simon's hand, a scarf with an orange, green and blue tartan pattern. Simon pulled away the hand that had been holding Wille’s until that moment, but before he could object, Simon had used both hands to drape the scarf across Wille’s neck, his fingers brushing against the soft exposed skin there, causing goosebumps to form all over Wille’s body.
“There… like I said, it suits you!” Simon’s voice was slightly breathy as he glanced up, and Wille felt the strong urge to bend down just that little bit, close the distance and fit his own lips against Simon’s. He didn't dare to, though, instead he averted his eyes to find something to distract himself from the feelings blossoming in his chest.
His eyes fell onto a beanie, green and purple stripes across it, and he quickly took it in his hands. “Well, this would be perfect for you!”
Before he could overthink the decision, he reached out and pulled the woollen object onto Simon’s head, only slightly squishing the soft curls that now spilled from underneath the rim. Simon giggled, blinking up at Wille with that same fond expression.
“How do I look?” Simon turned his head slightly to each side, his eyes twinkling as he kept them trained on Wille.
“Beautiful… and the beanie looks alright too.” Wille wasn't sure what possessed him to whisper those words, but Simon blushed as he dipped his head, his fingers finding Wille’s again.
“You're…,” Simon interrupted himself, shaking his head fondly. “Who knew I needed to come to Germany to have a Swedish boy flirt with me?”
Now it was Wille’s turn to blush, and he quickly shook his head as he pulled out enough money to buy the beanie, taking off the scarf in the process. “I'm sure you have lots of guys wanting to flirt with you… maybe they’re just intimidated because you're so pretty?”
Simon sighed, leaning against Wille again. “No… I live in a really small town, and I'm the only openly gay kid, well, except for my lesbian best friend. There's no one who'd be interested.”
Wille couldn't help but wrap his arm around Simon’s shoulder, raising his hand to brush a steady curl behind Simon’s ear. “Well, I live in Stockholm, and I know there would be a lot of guys there who would absolutely want to take you out on a date.”
Simon chuckled and pulled away slightly, giving Wille a mischievous grin as he pulled out enough money to pay for both the socks and the scarf. “Well, maybe I should come to Stockholm then, see for myself how many guys want to date me.” Wille’s face must have shown the discomfort at the idea that swirled in his stomach, because Simon quickly nudged him with his shoulder. “I'm just teasing you… if I come to Stockholm, it’d be to visit you. If… if that's something you’d like?”
Simon’s voice grew more insecure at the end, and Wille quickly nodded, forcing a smile onto his lips. Simon visiting him in Stockholm would be impossible, not only because he didn't know who Wille was, but also because if anyone spotted them, they would be breaking news. Prince Wilhelm gay? Read all about his torrid affair. But it was nice to lose himself in the illusion for a moment, in thinking that maybe he could just be normal, could have the cute boy he met by chance visit him and maybe let whatever was blooming between them blossom into something real.
Simon looked a bit relieved at his reassurance that he didn't want this to end after tonight either, and he quickly leaned close again to loop the scarf around Wille’s neck once more. Wille smiled softly at the gentle gesture and the cold fingertips brushing against his skin, and dipped his head slightly. “You really didn't have to get me this.”
But Simon shook his head, smiling gently as he knocked their hands together again. “Maybe… but you got me the beanie and I want you to have something to remember me by.” And wasn't that a nice thought? Not that Wille would likely ever forget the magical evening he spent with Simon, but now he had something tangible, something to remind himself that Simon was real. That he wasn't just a figment of his imagination, conjured up because he was lonely in a foreign country.
Glancing at where their fingers naturally intertwined again, as if it was what they always were meant to do, Wille nodded softly. He noticed the empty mugs in their other hands, and quickly lifted his own. “Want some more hot chocolate?”
Simon’s chuckle rang softly in his ear, a sound he never wanted to miss again but would surely go insane without, in the empty rooms of the palace. “Yeah, that sounds great.” Never letting go of each other’s hands, they started to make their way back towards the ferris wheel, quickly joining back in the queue, and Wille ordered more hot chocolate, this time both with whipped cream.
As they made their way back out onto the plaza, his eyes were drawn towards the slowly spinning lights of the ferris wheel, and a sudden thought struck. Before he could second guess himself, he nudged Simon with his shoulder. “Are you afraid of heights?”
Simon’s eyes blinked up confused for a moment as he shook his head no, before realisation seemed to dawn on him, judging by the soft smile slowly spreading across his lips. “No, I'm not… are you?”
Wille simply shook his head and grabbed Simon’s hand, pulling him towards the twinkling lights of the ferris wheel. He quickly paid for their fare, and wrapped one arm around Simon’s shoulders from behind as they waited for their turn to board a gondola. Simon leaned back against his shoulder, and Wille could just about feel the smile that pulled at Simon's cheek as he leaned his own head against Simon's.
Slowly, the line in front of them emptied as people left the ferris wheel and others got on. The weather slowly grew colder as the stars slowly began being drowned out by clouds. Wille almost began hoping it might begin to snow, when he was pulled from his daydreams by some sort of commotion behind them.
Some people near them craned their necks to see what was going on, a gasp falling from the lips of a woman standing just behind them. “Ist das der schwedische Kronprinz,” she asked in a loud whisper, her companion shrugging and stretching up a little further.
“Sieht so aus? Schwer zu sagen,” the companion replied, wrapping their arm around the woman’s waist to pull her closer. “Aber was würde er hier schon wollen?”
Wille’s heart sank at their words, and Simon furrowed his brows as he looked up at Wille. “Did they just say Kronprins?” Of course Simon had recognized the word, it was almost identical between German and Swedish. And to make matters worse, Erik decided to call out.
“Wille? Wille!” More and more heads turned towards the Crown Prince of Sweden, obviously looking for his younger brother, and Wille seized the opportunity to squeeze past the last couple standing between him and the safe gondola, Simon’s hand still clutched in his own. He ignored their weak protests and pulled Simon into the gondola with him, plunking down and pulling the door closed.
Finally, he was able to take a deep breath, glancing down at the crowd as the ferris wheel moved them slowly away from being discovered. Then, he turned to Simon, and his heart sank again.
Simon was looking at him with a look that was equal parts confused and hurt. Huh. Wille wasn't sure what was wrong, but maybe he had figured it out now? Maybe Simon didn't want to be with him in this gondola anymore, not with the Prince of Sweden. Oh god, he had just manoeuvred Simon into a situation he didn't want to be in, hadn't he?
Wille could feel his breath begin to go rapidly, his heart beating out of his chest as he began to feel slightly nauseous. But then there was Simon’s hand on his, and why was Simon holding his hand? Why was he running his thumb over Wille’s fingers? Oh, he was speaking to him. Wille took a few deep breaths, trying his best to focus back on Simon’s lovely voice. Simon sounded distressed, gripping Wille’s hand tightly. “Wille? Wille, what the fuck is going on?”
Wille swallowed thickly, shaking his head slowly. “Sorry, panic attack… I didn't mean to freak you out.”
Simon slightly relaxed next to him, but there was still a certain uneasiness Wille could feel wafting off his beautiful companion, so his mouth took on a life of its own, any filter gone as he tried desperately to salvage what he might have ruined. “Look, Simon, I've got you into this terrible mess, and I didn't mean to. I really didn't, I was just enjoying a completely normal evening with a beautiful boy, I didn't think… I didn't think it would end like this. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make things so hard on you.”
Simon was quiet for a moment, which prompted Wille to look up at him for a moment, tears threatening to spill over his lashes. Simon had a pensive look on his face, but he was still holding Wille’s hand, that was a good sign, right?
Still, he was silent, so Wille started to speak again, uttering “Please don’t-” when Simon began muttering at the same time.
“What do you mean-” Wille and Simon couldn't help but chuckle at the situation, and Wille gestured to Simon to begin. The other boy nodded, taking another big breath. “What do you mean, terrible mess? And how are you making things hard on me?”
Wille blinked for a moment, taking in Simon’s words. What did Simon mean? “I mean… I mean this whole situation… us being stuck in this gondola, and my brother being down on the ground, looking for me… if people didn't catch on when we hastily boarded this thing, they’ll at least realise when we get off, and you'll be the boy who rode the ferris wheel with… with the Prince of Sweden.”
Wille bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for Simon to start yelling at him, ripping his hand from Wille’s grip or shuffling away to bring more distance between them. When none of this happened, he glanced up, and almost fainted at the fond look on Simon’s face. Why was Simon looking at him so fondly? “Can you please say something, Simon?” He almost begged, he needed something, anything.
Simon sighed, his eyes trained on his fingers brushing against Wille's knuckles. “What am I supposed to say? Am I surprised and overwhelmed that apparently, I've been holding hands with royalty? A bit. And I wish I didn’t have to find out like this. But you being a prince doesn't change that I had a lovely evening with you, even if we can't continue, with people being aware of who you are now. If anything, the whole situation sucks mainly for you, since… well, I guess you're not out yet, and being seen holding a guy’s hand…” Simon looked up at that, his brown eyes finding Wille’s, who could only nod slightly. “So this is difficult for you, not for me. I'll just go back to my hometown and remember this moment fondly, and that's that.”
Wille felt like cold water had been dumped all over him. Of course Simon didn't want to see him again after all this. Who would begrudge him that decision? He quickly nodded, pulling his hand away despite wanting to cling to it for as long as he was allowed to. “I… I get it. I wouldn't want to deal with all this bullshit either if I had the choice.” The gondola kept slowly rising between stops, indicating that they still had more than half of their ride left. Wille hated the idea that Simom would have to endure his presence for so much longer. “I really didn't mean to lie to you about… about who I was. But you didn't realise, and it felt so special, to… to be flirted with as just a regular guy. How did you not realise? You're swedish!”
Simon hummed, his hand finding Wille’s again and squeezing softly. Wille’s heart skipped a beat, confused how Simon still sought out his touch. “Well, firstly, I really don't care about the royal family. No offense.” Wille smiled at the teasing tone Simon’s voice took on, glancing up again. Simon rewarded him with a small smile. “And secondly, I didn't expect to run into the fucking Prince of Sweden in the middle of some random Christmas market in Germany. I didn't even expect to run into anyone swedish, so the Prince was just out of the question for me.” Simon sighed softly after this, his voice taking on a slightly wistful tone. “I kind of wish you weren't a prince, because I'd really like to see you again, but that's probably not in the cards with you not being out.”
And oh, wasn't that a pleasant surprise. Simon still wanted to see him again? “I… I can't promise that I’ll be allowed to publicly come out. My mother, she… she's very particular about us maintaining a certain image.” Wille winced at his own words, he hated that he couldn't just go out there and kiss this beautiful boy in front of everyone. Holding his hand out in the open had been one of the best moments of his life. “But I'd really like to see you again, too. You… I really like you, Simon… and I wish I wasn't a prince so I could take you out on a date like you deserve, and no one would even bat an eye at it.”
Simon smiled at that, leaning his head against Wille’s shoulder. “Well, we’re here right now, right? And no one is here to care about what we do.” Silence fell across the gondola for a moment, while Wille absorbed what Simon had just said. Simon was right, they were alone, and no one could stop them from enjoying these last, free moments.
And then Simon gasped and bolted up, shifting forward to glance out into the darkness where thick snowflakes had begun dancing in the air. “Look, Wille! It's snowing!”
Wille couldn't help the fond smile dancing across his features as he observed Simon, who turned back towards Wille with shining eyes. Simon was truly beautiful, almost angelic in the soft lights illuminating the gondola from the spines of the ferris wheel. And there was a softness in his gaze as he shifted closer again, his fingers tangling in the scarf he had bought for Wille.
Wille barely had time to react, too caught up in the beauty of Simon, when all of a sudden, he felt a pair of soft lips pressing against his own, careful, shy. Simon pulled back for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty on his features before he smiled softly at whatever expression he caught on Wille’s face. Wille wasn't sure there was any reaction visible, his mind still struggling to comprehend that Simon had just kissed him. Kissed him on top of a ferris wheel with snowflakes dancing all around them, the twinkling lights of the Christmas market underneath them. Then, Simon’s lips were on his again, and Wille kissed back, committing each moment to memory.
When the gondola reached the bottom and Wille was hastily ushered out and away from Simon by Malin and a very angry looking Joakim, Wille’s face was hidden in his new scarf, obscuring his face as best as possible. One hand clutched the purple christmas market mug, while his other hand, deep in his pocket, was wrapped around a note where Simon had quickly scribbled his phone number with the promise that they would meet again. And for some reason, Wille didn't doubt it at all.