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Simon runs his hands frantically though his curls in a desperate attempt to tame them, fighting against the salt and sea air, wreaking its havoc. Simon takes one last glance at his reflection before sliding his hands up and down his bare arms- his skin prickling at the soft breeze wafting through the hotel, making the gossamer curtains dance.
Simon sighs, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, letting the salty air of the French Riviera wash over his sun kissed visage and smiles to himself before diverting his attention to the task at hand. He walks over to the undersized hotel room closet where his new dress shirt is waiting. Black lace was not normally Simon’s style or in his usual comfort zone, but with some reassurance, sometimes you just have to do as the Roman’s- or French- do for that matter. Simon carefully removes it from the hanger and slips his arms through, trying not to snag the delicate fabric in the process, as he moves back to his once occupied spot in front of the mirror- only his reflection wasn’t the only one looking back at him this time…
A smile tugs at the corners of Simon’s mouth
“What?”
“Nothing,” Wilhelm shakes his head as he leans against the doorframe that led to the ensuite bathroom, “just enjoying the view.”
“It is beautiful outside,” Simon comments, raising an eyebrow has he finishes buttoning, covering his once exposed chest in black lace, straightening out the collar before ‘excusing’ himself to the balcony with one last wicked glance at Wille through the glass. He leans over the railing, letting the fading sun warm his skin, taking in the surroundings of the quaint seaside town.
Simon can feel his gaze searing a hole into his back, so he hooks his chin over his own shoulder, peaking to find Wille, still leaning against the doorframe, his head cocked sideways, his phone presented in front of him, doing his best paparazzi impression. Simon throws his head back in a deep laugh before exiting the balcony and sauntering over to Wille, getting inextricably close, chests touching, “You’re crazy, you know?”
Wille bits at his lip, “Am I?”
“Mmm Hmmm”
“But what would you do without me?”
“Tried that, didn’t work. I could do without this though-“Simon’s hands cup Wille’s cheek, his thumb racing over the downy hair, a new addition to his upper lip.
“You don’t like my moustache?” Wille asks with an exaggerated pout.
“Is that what we are calling it?”
“Ouch!” Wille feigns offense at his lover’s comment.
Simon cups Wille’s face in both hands, gazing into the molten honey eyes he could lose himself in, “I like it when I can see your whole face- no distractions,” he pauses and smiles, “And it tickles.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t” Simon warns.
“Like this?” Wille pulls Simon in, rubbing his face over Simon’s own, the pair dissolving into laughter and light kisses.
“Hurry up and get dressed. We have reservations.” Simon manages, pushing at Wille’s chest before grabbing at his wrist, holding Wille’s watch to his face, “they start in twenty.”
“What’s wrong with what I am hearing?” Wille asks, running a hand down his cream-colored sweater-cashmere.
“Come on Wille, it’s our last night, it is worth dressing up for. Wear that blue suit…”
“As long as you agree to take it off me later…”
Simon scoffs, pushing Wille back towards the bathroom, where he emerges minutes later, deep navy suit tailored perfectly to his frame, now much shorter auburn hair coiffed and styled, “Will this do?”
“Perfect-“ Simon pulls Wilhelm in by his open suit jacket, giving him a long and languid kiss, pulling back ever so slightly, still breathing each other’s air, “Come on, I don’t want to waste any more time. It’s the last night of our honeymoon.”
Wilhelm leans forward, resting his forehead on his husband’s, “Thank you for marrying me.”
“It’s always been you.”