Chapter Text
There are some stupid games you play when getting to know someone, the games that are basically an excuse to invade people’s privacy. Wilhelm hates those games. Yet, there he was, sitting on the floor in his garden in front of a fire, a drink in hand (thankfully), playing stupid games. They go around in a circle asking each other truths and dares, hoping to embarrass friends or find out some gossip. Henry was good at the game, he knew just how to get people to do what he wanted. Wilhelm just sat there, not really making much of an effort to talk. Why should he? He didn’t have anything interesting to say.
The mini crowd of people watched and cheered as Vincent belly flopped into the pool as he was dared to, before coming out of the water and rejoining the circle. Unfortunately, that meant that it was now his turn.
“Wilhelm, truth or dare?” A girl, one of Felice’s friends named Stella, asks him. She’s sitting on her knees, with another girl, Fredrika, lying her head in her lap.
“Truth?” Wilhelm answered. He thought it was a safe bet, a quick question and he could move on. That way, he wouldn’t have to kiss anyone or jump into the pool at midnight as many around him had, their hair still dripping onto his beach towel he didn’t really want to give away but somewhat had to so he didn’t look like he was being “off” with anyone. In reality he just didn’t want to share his towel with some random person who happened to be in his class, sue him.
“Have you ever had a one night stand?” August asked this time. Of course it was August.
August was Wilhelm’s second cousin, and he used it as a sort of bragging right. He always wanted an entry into the family business and the popularity and money it provided. That’s why he followed Erik around like a dog when he still went to school, or at least so Wilhelm assumes.
But of course it was August who had asked that question. August also happened to be the kind of person who only cared about girls, kiss counts and body counts and tried to pry all of your private information from you and use the excuse of gossiping or playing a game to cover it up. That’s why August was allowed to ask the questions, he always came up with the ‘good’ ones. Good for who, Wille was still unsure.
Embarrassing Wilhelm was purely a bonus for his cousin. The worse the Bernadotte brother appeared in comparison to himself, the better. After all, who wouldn’t want to seem greater than those who are held in such high regard?
Remembering the question he was asked, he slowly nodded his head, staring at the bottle of beer in his hand. It was a stupid mistake really, because this brought on added questions he didn’t want to answer. Why couldn’t he have just lied? Because that would have made him look boring, so realistically it was an impossible battle to win. Wilhelm just wanted to be ignored.
“No way! With who?” Now it was Nils.
Wilhelm didn’t mind Nils, he was the most tolerable of August’s friends. His parents seemed nice as well from what he was able to see. They weren’t as stuck up and business minded as the other parents, even if they were still very money orientated. Nils had even invited him out to his cabin to ski for the holidays last year after they connected over their sexualities and had a few nice conversations. Despite that, he wouldn’t say the pair were friends.
“Simon,” he shrugged, giving them an answer and hoping they’d move on. Really, he thought this was common knowledge, but clearly he had misread the situation. He thought everyone believed the rumors that spread that was why they hated each other. And that’s all they were, rumors. Before Wilhelm had exposed the truth and added fuel to the fire.
As predicted, the little crowd that had gathered to play their little game erupted into conversations and laughter. A girl shouted out that she “knew it all along”, whilst the girl next to her looked as though she’d seen a ghost.
Wille didn’t really know why anyone else cared about his personal life. It didn’t affect anyone else but him, did it? How can a confirmation of a rumor that happened nearly a year ago make so many people lose their minds like this?
Making this much fuss over a celebrity he would get, at least they were interesting. But he was just some boy from school. That guy who played on the football team and was getting mediocre grades in his classes. The gay guy who was the son of that couple that owned those hotels and has that brother who everyone loved. That guy who had a one night stand with Simon Eriksson, and has hated him since.
Well, it was the truth. Simon and Wilhelm had once shared a night together, tangled between each other's limbs and smiling as though they had discovered the true feeling of happiness for the first time.
Sometimes Wille wonders if he had felt happiness that night with Simon, because he remembers the night it started a bit too well, even though the thought of being happy around the boy seemed impossible now. But maybe back then on a cold night on December 4th, it was as easy as breathing.
Wilhelm ran across the pitch to help Rosh up when the ref had stopped the game. The cold air froze on the way down his throat, forming a lump that stayed put, no matter how hard or often he tried to swallow it down.
“Rosh!” He shouted as he ran, he tried to get closer to help, but the medics had already shielded her from his view. His heart pounded, he felt as though his legs were jelly. He couldn’t go any further. So he stood there and did what he always did when his heart felt like a rock in his chest, gently pressed his hand to his heart and rubbed back and forth like Erik had taught him.
They all stood there, the snow falling around them as they froze to death. Rosh was injured, morale was down, the sky was dark and he just wanted to go home. But of course, the game continued.
He chased the ball down until he physically couldn’t anymore. His legs nearly gave way beneath him from exhaustion and all he wanted to do was go home to his bed and cry.
Luckily, the whistle blew before he could collapse. His whole body was freezing and on fire at the same time, the contradictory feelings making his head hurt. When he finally was allowed by his coach, he went to go collect his stuff from the changing room, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him and flinching anytime anyone got too close. He’d get changed at home, he didn’t care anymore.
Something stopped him though on his way to the car. A boy he’d seen around before stood sheepishly at the fence that joined the car park and the pitch. His cheeks flushed red from the cold and little specs of snow caught in his hair. The sight of this boy made his own worries disappear for a moment.
“Are you okay?” Wilhelm asked once he had collected himself and finally realized where he had recognized the boy from, “you’re Rosh’s friend right?”
“Yeah,” the boy nodded. “Simon.” There's silence for a while before either of them say anything more. Because what was there to say? He checked he was okay didn’t he, so now he’s in the clear and can head off to bed if he wanted to. But he didn’t.
It wasn’t an awkward silence, it was somehow peaceful amongst the chaos of the day. They stare at each other with a strange sense of longing and comfort, as though they slowed down each other's world and made it finally make sense again after an exhausting night of sadness and worry.
That’s when Wilhelm first noticed how beautiful Simon was. Well, not quite. Of course Wilhelm had always thought that Simon was extremely beautiful, as he assumed everyone did. But now he looked so cosy with his purple hoodie and coat, a beanie that allowed his curls to peek out the front. The curls that were catching the snow and sparkling under the floodlights. He looked like an angel, if a little broken by the shocks of the evening.
Wille wondered what Simon was still doing here. The game had ended 20 minutes ago and he knew that Rosh had already left after her injury (which luckily wasn’t bad enough for the hospital, but still severe enough for an early turn in).
“Rosh is gonna be okay, Simon” he attempts to reassure him, taking a step closer to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, “she’s brave. And she’s strong, she’ll be okay.”
Simon looked up at Wille with a look he couldn’t describe. Fear? Appreciation? Probably a mix of both. The boy did seem very stationary though, still unwilling to move from the spot. But Wilhelm thought he understood it. It was hard to turn and walk away sometimes. Sometimes you need something, or someone, to give you a push in the right direction.
“Well I better get going now I have to walk home, I’ll see you next game…I want to say…Wilhelm?” The boy took one final long look out towards the pitch, playing with his scarf between his fingers. It might just be the most endearing thing Wille has ever seen.
“You can call me Wille,” there was a strange sense of care that came over Wille. He just wanted to wrap the boy in bubble wrap and protect his cute self from the world that had done him wrong tonight. He didn’t deserve to see his best friend in that state. “It’s freezing, there’s no way you’re walking home in this, I’ll drive you home.”
Simon looks taken aback and thankful. Luckily, Simon agrees with a soft smile on his face. Even though his eyes still aren’t quite shining, they look a little less dull than they were before.
The pair finally reach the car and, for some reason, Wilhelm finds himself opening the car door for Simon. He told himself he was just being nice and taking care of someone who needed someone to be there for them right now, but it was clearly something romantic. He doesn’t know how or why he did it, his body was put into autopilot. Simon makes him do things and feel things he can’t control. Simon doesn’t seem weirded out by it thankfully. Instead, he climbs in and, honest to god, giggles.
Wille lets Simon control the music through his phone as he drives through the endless darkness, the windscreen wipers clicking as they wipe the snow to clear his view, constantly checking the SAT NAV as to not make a wrong turn.
The ride to Simon’s is like a drive Wille has never had before. He finds himself flirting with Simon. And, Simon surprisingly flirts back. He has such an amazing time being just sat in a car with the boy, that he wishes the road would go on for eternity - but it doesn’t. Eventually, and maybe selfishly Wilhelm thinks sadly, they reach Simon’s house.
“Well, this is my house!” Simon announces cutely, “thank you for driving me, Wille.” The boy beside him seems less like the helpless, lost deer he had found half an hour ago. The light had come back into his eyes and his smile was even more blinding than before. Simon appeared to be less on edge and more carefree now.
“It’s really no big deal. Now I’m just looking forward to changing clothes,” he laughs. Simon takes one look at him and his whole demeanor changes instantly.
“You're soaked! You must be freezing! Please come inside and warm up, as a thank you for driving me!” and before Wilhelm can even open his mouth the boy adds, “I insist!”
Usually, Wilhelm would be the kind of person to protest and drive back to his house because all he really wanted was to be alone in his own bed. However, there was something about this boy that he’s so drawn to.
“Okay,” he agrees and they step out of the car, “thank you”
Simon fumbled with his keys in the door before ushering them both into the house. It was small, but as the light filled the space it felt homey and cozy in a way his house had never felt.
“Sorry, it’s not much” Simon started, looking around and rushing to the kitchen to put some bottles and cups away. Like Wille would care about mess? Everybody knew that his family worked in hospitality, so it shouldn’t have come as much of a shock that Simon wanted to be a good host.
As Wille walked around to the kitchen, Simon suddenly slammed the cupboard door shut with a small thud before grabbing Wille’s hand and leading him through to his. ‘You don’t need to try to be perfect around me, Simon’ Wille thought with a sad smile ‘you already are, anyway’.
It was a small room with a bed, a mini gaming station and a fish tank. Like the rest of the house, it had a homely, lived in feeling his own house didn’t have. Wille tried to think of something to say.
“Do the fish have names?” Wilhem asked as Simon grabbed him some clothes and handed them to him. Really Wille? Was that all you could think of? Luckily, it was well received and even wasn’t Wille the cutest smile and little laugh.
“Yeah, their names are Oksi, Olle and-” but before Simon could finish, Wilhem moved across the room and kissed him. He kissed him like he’d wanted to do all night, letting the neatly folded clothes that had been handed to him fall to the floor. And Simon kissed back, his hand coming up to Wille’s back and sliding up his spine until it reached the back of his neck, pulling at the little hairs there. Wille brought his hand up to cup Simon’s chin as though he was porcelain, and he had to be treated gently or else it would break.
Wille remembered getting told off for breaking his mama’s china when he was younger. He dropped the plate and it shattered across the floor. His mama had ordered the maids to come and clear it up before Wille got hurt and cut himself on the broken shards. Wilhelm wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He wasn’t about to break Simon and let himself get hurt in the process.
He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Simon.
“-and Felle.” he breathed as they pulled apart. That’s when Wilhelm experienced true happiness for the first time in his life.
The pair lay in the bed beside each other, and something about it felt natural.
“Are you okay? Did you have fun?” Simon laughed.
“Yeah, I did,” Wille breathed out, extremely exhausted by the day. Apparently, Simon was thinking the same because he yawned and snuggled up closer to Wille.
His cheek rested on the pillow and his hand draped loosely across Wille’s waist as though that was where it belonged. His eyelids fluttered shut as though he couldn’t keep them open anymore. And he looked so peaceful like that, so different from the way Wille had found him the evening prior. Not even 15 minutes later, Simon was asleep. Wilhelm sat with his hands twirling Simon’s curls between his fingers and listening to the sweet sound of his gentle snores.
To Wille, this felt like the start of something new.
And that scared him.
It scared the boy so much he could’ve ran. He could’ve put on his own clothes, got in his car and ran. He could’ve left Simon. He could’ve drove and cried in his car until his brother came and pulled him inside and made him hot chocolate.
Wille always ran when things got tough. When feelings became too unbearably real that it was heartbreaking in itself. Wille was told as a young child not to run away though. Items always caught his eye in shops and he would run away to go and look at them. He was what his mama called a wanderer. One time, he had lost sight of his mama and she had lost sight of him too. Wille had cried so hard the shop assistant had come to see what was wrong. He had found his mama that day and he was taught not to run away in the shops to look at the pretty things so he wouldn’t get lost again.
He didn’t need to run away now, the most beautiful thing laid beside Wille. He had no need to run.
If he ran now, he would get lost again. Just like he did when he was five in the shop.
And maybe this time they won’t be able to find him.
As he looked at the boy sleeping beside him, his heart fluttering at the pure sight of his face, he saw no need to run now.
The pair were in their own bubble they made for themselves that evening. The world had slowed and made time for the two of them to find comfort in each other after a tiring evening. The universe had given them their moment.
But that was all they got. A fleeting moment.
Because their bubble was broken as Simon’s phone screen lit up from the bedside table. A message coming through from a ‘Marcus’. Wille hadn’t meant to read it, hadn’t meant to violate Simon’s privacy but it had just happened. He had seen the little message on the screen. “Are we still on for tomorrow?” it read, a red heart typed out next to it.
How stupid could he have been? To be vulnerable with someone already in a relationship. The worst wasn’t even that he had let himself be the side piece to Wille, it was that he believed that the evening had meant something.
And the thing was, Wille ran away many times after he was told not too. He got lost so often. But when he got lost, he usually found something he liked, such as the frog plush he brought home with him. When he ran away, he found something he didn’t know he needed and wouldn’t have found if he hadn’t. He had a bit of freedom, and wasn’t just dragged along with his mama. He wasn’t just told he could look at the toys, he actually could.
So Wille ran. He picked up his clothes and hurriedly clambered into them, silent tears falling from his eyes as he tried so hard not to wake Simon up. He grabbed his car keys and drove home, Simon’s music still playing in the car from before.
But sometimes when Wille ran away in the shops, he didn’t come back with anything. He just cried because he was alone and got told off by his mama when she inevitably found him again.
The game moved on quickly, which was something Wilhelm was thankful for. Everyone got bored of his little not-so-secret secret, and moved on to the next person in the circle, trying to pry as much information out of as many people as possible. He zoned out for a while, as he usually did, until he saw everyone moving to go inside. He instinctively followed, afraid of being left out of the crowd.
The party was fine, nothing special in his opinion and something he regretted agreeing to host. But it was Felice’s birthday, and he really wanted her to have a nice time. And from what he could see, she was, so it was worth it.
When his parents left for yet another business trip around her birthday, she swore it was fate and it just had to happen. Plus, his house was (as had been described before) the perfect party location. His house, his inherited riches were something everyone wanted even a tiny taste of, and Felice was someone everyone wanted to be friends with. And this unwanted jealousy towards the two of them was a good thing really as it brought the pair together. Platonic soulmates, one might say. So, even if reluctantly, he agreed to host the party for his best friend because she was the only person he would sit through all of this for.
Eventually, he had loosened up enough (really, had gotten drunk enough) to forget this was his house and remembered the point of this. It was to have fun with his best friend on her birthday, dancing to songs they both enjoyed from their childhood and secretly wishing they could play songs from musicals they had gone to see together, but that wouldn’t be received well by their classmates.
So, instead, they dance to the latest hits, their favourites and hang out by the pool. It was easy and casual, unlike many parties Wilhelm had been to. There weren’t very many people outside as it was late October and, therefore, a freezing Swedish night. They sat breathing in the fresh air, Wilhem and Henry sharing a cigarette and Felice and Walter laughing about nothing in their drunken state. Wilhelm was glad he had stuck with his small group tonight, rather than trying to mingle with other people and feeling worse about himself by the end of the night. It was Felice’s birthday, so being with her was nice.
“Wilhelm?” Henry started, taking the cigarette between his fingers.
“Mhm,”
“When was the last time you hooked up with someone? Was it that night with Simon?” he says, taking a drag of the cigarette and blowing the smoke out in front of him.
He didn’t necessarily blame Henry, but he knew that this was all brought on by the little game of ‘Truth or Dare’. And Wilhelm really didn’t want to talk about this right now. Or, ever to be truthful. He just wanted to exist in this headspace and peaceful environment a little bit longer, looking fondly at his friends laughing at one another drunkenly.
But the answer was yes. Yes, Simon was his last hookup. Simon was his last everything.
Clearly, Henry was hinting he should hook up with someone tonight, so when he stayed over and wanted some girl to also stay the night at his house, it wouldn’t be such a big deal. It was typical Henry, and Wilhelm usually didn’t mind it so long as they stayed in the room furthest away, she was gone by breakfast and Henry made sure the room was spotless.
He looked at the smoke coming from the cigarette. It looked sort of nice in a way, the way it floated in the night sky. It almost danced to the sound of life around them, it looked carefree.
Wilhelm just shrugged, accepting the cigarette from Henry’s fingers.
“Do you not want one?” He keeps pressing, clearly not sensing this isn’t quite the conversation he wanted right now, “what about a boyfriend?” he tries, a jokey tone now hinting in his voice. This was regular though, because Henry was a gossip sponge who was always in on everyone’s business. Weirdly, Wilhelm didn’t mind the fact that Henry was a gossip, call him biased but he didn’t care.
“How about a girlfriend?” Henry tried again.
“I don’t know, Henry!” he says, a chuckle in his voice because if anyone was to ask him these kinds of questions, he would want it to be Henry.
Sometimes, Wilhem thinks that Henry is like some kind of seikick. He always seems to know what’s going on with everyone. Although, you wouldn’t think it, he has a way of acting oblivious so no one catches on to the fact he knows all their secrets. He finds out all his information from external sources so that it doesn’t get back to the person he knows said information about. Wilhelm only knows he knows everything because they’re close friends.
“I don’t have time for a relationship right now, Henry. You of all people should know that,” he eyes him, knowing exactly what he means. It’s true, he really didn’t have time for a relationship, what with starting work for his parents' hospitality company and getting his grades up before his final year. As well as that, he is also hoping to spend more time with his brother, Erik, who is working away in London at the hotel they own there, whilst he’s stuck in Stockholm alone.
“Let's go back inside, I want to dance again!” Walter announced after a while, dragging Felice by the hand towards the house and making Henry put out the cigarette, leaving it in the ashtray.
“Okay!” Felice says, following Walter easily, seeming thrilled with the idea and running back into the house just behind him with their hands still connected, nearly stumbling into the pool. It's good she caught herself, but Wilhelm thought it would’ve been really quite amusing if she had fallen in. Terrible, but incredibly funny.
There have been very many incidents regarding the pool. It became the hotspot for all embarrassing, funny, amazing, memorable moments.
One time, Wilhelm had found a very high Walter skinny dipping in it at 1 o'clock in the morning. To this day, no one knows how he had gotten into the garden unseen. There’s no trace of him on any of the security cameras out the front and the fence at the side of the house is too high to climb over, but Wilhelm still suspects that must have been how he had gotten in.
Walter hadn’t found the story funny when Wilhelm first told it to the others at lunch on Monday, but everyone else did. Eventually, Walter had also seen the funny side. As well as that, there was the annual pool party for the group, the great slip of 2021 when Wilhelm had slipped into the pool, ready for a brutal night at one of his parents' events. That one was another story that wasn’t funny for a little while.
Henry soon followed the pair into the stuffy, sweat ridden house where everyone was dancing to some new song Wilhelm couldn’t bring himself to get on board with. Even though he had promised himself that he was going to have a good time tonight, forget his anxieties of being the host, it suddenly became impossible.
And he’d been doing so well too.
His feet were practically sticking to the floor, his classmates falling into each other in the packed room and his head throbbing instantly because of the loud music. So instead of dealing with this, he decided to go into the kitchen where things were quieter.
There were different problems in the kitchen, sure, but they were more bearable. Yes, some couples were making out, one sat on his countertop where he made his lunch, and yes, there was always someone coming and going trying to make conversation but they always left. It was fine though, bearable. He just leaned against the wall, slowly taking his time with his breathing and taking slow sips of either beer or water. He could cope in the quiet room so long as nothing bad happened.
The thing is though, whenever he hopes nothing bad will happen: it does. The last time he hoped nothing bad would happen was when he spoke to Simon after the…incident.
A person was throwing up in the plant pot in the corner of the room. Fantastic. Perfect. Best use of his evening.
“Hey, umm…” Wille walked over, staying a fair distance away, his hands picking at the sticker on the bottle. The stranger continued to heave in the plant pot.
Except it wasn’t a stranger. In the hazy kitchen light Wilhelm recognized the person currently throwing up in his house as the boy who was kissing Simon on the football pitch that morning.
Marcus.
Great, his bad night just got worse.
“Marcus, could you stop throwing up in my plant pot or…?” Wilhelm knew it came across harshly, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when the boy he hated’s boyfriend (who he also hated) was throwing up in his plant pot.
“Can you just…” and he heaved into the pot again before finishing his sentence, making Wille flinch, “…can you just call Simon?”
Of course, that was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask. Not.
Wille didn’t want to talk to Simon. What would calling Simon even do? Marcus was an adult - which always made Wille feel odd, anyways - he could take care of himself, couldn’t he?
“I don’t have his number, do I?” Wille said sarcastically. He swears he didn’t mean to roll his eyes, but he also knows no one out there would actually believe that, “just give me your phone.” He agreed with a sigh.
Marcus leaned to grab his phone, weakly handing it to Wilhelm just after unlocking it and just before hurling his guts up into the plant again, his fingers turning white from how hard his grasp on the pot was.
Wille tapped through the phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Simon’s name, sighing louder than necessary before clicking ‘call’ and lifting the phone to his ear.
After about four rings, Simon picked up.
“Hello?” Simon sounded like he had just woken up. ‘Good for him being asleep whilst I’m here, wanting to be in bed catering to his boyfriend being sick in my plant pot’
“Hey Simon,” Wille spoke with such annoyance it was obvious even as his voice distorted through the phone.
“Wille? What the hell, where’s Marcus?” Simon spoke quickly, his annoyance palpable also. There was rustling in the background, almost as though Simon was running around a room and moving things.
“Marcus is throwing up in my plant pot. He told me to call you so,” Wille look a look over at Marcus, who was now just full on laying on the plant pot.
“He’s at your house?” Simon’s voice softened slightly and the movement in the background stopped alongside it, but Wilhelm clearly didn’t notice.
“Yeah, that’s what I just said, didn’t I?” Wille put the bottle of beer onto the counter, the clashing sound vibrating through the phone and straight to Simon’s ear.
“What’s he doing at your house?”
“Party. What else would he be here for? Plus I’m good for nothing but being a Party Prince, right Simon?”
Simon had called Wille a party prince before. It was this one day at school when he had refused to hold a party for some random girl when he asked him. Simon, who was never too far away in moments like this, leaned over the table and condescendingly said, “well that makes a change, Party Prince. I thought hosting parties was all you could do?”
“Look, I’ll be over there as soon as I can. Just…get him outside and give him some water?” Simon sounded exhausted and just…fed up. Wille almost, just almost felt bad for Simon, but another quick glance at the dick he was dating made any feeling of sympathy disappear instantly.
“What's the magic word?”
“Piss off, Wille. I’ll be there soon”
Simon hung up the phone instantly leaving Wille with the sight of Marcus slumped over the plant pot still and couples around him kissing against his fridge. With another large sigh Wille took a step closer to Marcus, offering his phone back.
“Simon’s on his way. Do you…he wants you to go outside, so?” With that, Marcus took his phone back and steadily got himself onto his feet. He walked out of the house aimlessly, followed by Wille who was holding a cup of water.
The two of them sat out in the cold on the porch waiting for Simon to show. They sat in an awkward silence forever, only the sound of the music throbbing throughout the house as their company. Before Wille said something.
“I don’t know why you’ve gotten so drunk, to be honest.” Wille muttered, ironically around his bottle of beer. Probably his fourth of the night.
“I don’t know why you care,” Marcus spat back.
“Because I’m sitting out here at my best friend’s party, with you, rather than being inside because you got drunk out of your mind and threw up in my plant pot,” Wille shook his head, “and now Simon has to come out and take care of you like a child. Just think about how you’re affecting others and stop being such a dickhead.”
Marcus didn’t really say anything, he just stared straight at the side of Wille’s head.
“Since when do you care about Simon?” Marcus’ voice was still slurred, his eyes distant.
Wilhelm snapped his head to the side before looking down at his feet, his bottle between his knees as he continued to pick at the label at the top of the bottle neck.
“I don’t care about him,” nice save, Wille. “But I think his boyfriend should…personally”
Marcus looked like he was about to go off on one at Wilhelm, but luckily for him Simon ran around the corner. A beeline straight for Marcus.
“What the fuck have you done!” Simon shouted somehow with worry still laced in his voice reaching his hands to grasp out to Marcus’ face. However, Marcus pulled away, leaving Simon standing there with unshed tears gathering at his lash line.
“Why have you done this again?” Simon whispered sadly, losing his patience and pulling Marcus to his feet. Simon shot Wille a look. A look Wille couldn’t quite read but if he had to guess said ‘help me’.
Simon looked so devastatingly sad. Wille almost felt bad. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad because Simon had chosen this. He chose Marcus over him, and Wille was good at holding grudges.
His heart thudded out of his chest as he approached Simon after the first half of the game the Sunday that followed the incident. He had been avoiding his gaze all morning, afraid his death stare would burn his flesh and reveal his pounding heart. But now, he had finally built up the courage. The game had given him the adrenaline he needed to finally speak to Simon. He had a script in his head. This would be fine, so long as nothing bad happened.
As he went to Simon though, he realized someone else had beaten him to it. A guy Wilhelm noticed from school, but left two years prior. He was older than them; his name is Marcus.
Marcus approached Simon and…kissed him.
Marcus kissed Simon, not even a week after they had shared the most incredible, magical night together. Simon had a boyfriend and slept with Wilhelm. He was a cheat and never wanted to be with Wilhelm in the first place. Even if Wilhelm fixed this, it wouldn’t have worked.
But didn’t Wilhelm already know that? That’s why he left? He had seen the message, and convinced himself that it was nothing. That the text meant nothing, but that night meant everything.
His heart stopped when he saw the pair in front of him. Tears stung his eyes and the world was collapsing in on itself. The world was breaking under his feet and he felt like he could barely stand.
Wilhelm didn’t bother with the second half of the game and instead lied that he had gotten too injured in the first half to continue. He went home and cried in the car. For the second night in a row. If only Erik was there that night and not already on a plane to England, or at very least that his parents were home at the moment.
But who was he kidding, they never were.
Maybe then, if someone was there that night, he would’ve made it inside. Maybe his keys wouldn’t have dried blood on them the next morning and he didn’t spend the next day rubbing soap into his car seat to remove the stains. In another universe, he didn’t have to wear his skins under his shorts at the next practice to hide the lines where the cuts began to heal.
Maybe, if Erik was there, that day wouldn’t have been so soul crushingly shit.