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It was an unfortunate situation, really.
Simon didn't exactly remember how it happened, and now, he was stuck staring at the fat, orange cat scratching at his couch.
Well, that wasn't exactly true.
Simon know how it happened; he just didn't remember at which point he lost his common sense.
It all started when Wilhelm Norling, his neighbor, moved into the apartment over his. Wilhelm had been very polite, introducing himself with a warm handshake and a shy smile when Simon stumbled upon him trying to maneuver a mattress up the staircase. The guy helping him on the other end, a tall, handsome man with blue eyes and a loud voice, had berated "Wille" for dropping the mattress just for that.
Wilhelm had blushed and apologized profusely, excusing himself to help that Erik guy he had hissed at before grabbing onto the furniture again.
"Cute." Simon had thought, unable to contain a smile as he watched Wilhelm clumsily push the mattress up the stairs.
Wilhelm was the quiet type; while Simon often had issues with the previous neighbor stomping and making noise at ungodly hours, he didn't have any with Wilhelm outside of the occasional bump here and there. The only sign of Wilhelm moving into the building was the presence of Lasagne.
Lasagne was Wilhelm's cat. He was orange, fat, and very friendly. Wilhelm had a habit of letting Lasagne go outside whenever he went out, and whenever the cat was done with his stroll, he would wait until someone opened the door for him and curl up in the cardboard box Wilhelm left in front of his apartment door.
Simon had taken a liking to Lasagne, giving him scratches behind the ears and watching him play in the courtyard below his balcony. He'd watched Wilhelm toss fake mice around the garden for him, congratulating him with scratches and kisses.
Watching Lasagne was entertaining, but Simon couldn't deny that his owner was a nice sight too.
Wilhelm had that clumsy, seemingly effortless charm that Simon couldn't resist. Whenever they crossed paths in the staircase, he'd smile widely, greet him, and exchange a few pleasantries if they both had the time. During those brief encounters, Simon learned that Wilhelm was a school counselor, that he was apparently addicted to hazelnut milk, and that he occasionally heard Simon playing the piano, but didn't mind at all; he even enjoyed it.
He was sweet, too, holding the door for Simon, apologizing with cookies when Lasagne made him trip in the hallway, offering to help him carry groceries that time they walked in at the same time and Simon was too stubborn to make two trips up the stairs.
He was all that, but he was also incredibly oblivious to Simon's attempts at flirting.
Granted, Simon didn't go all in. He didn't want to look desperate, but the boy was a snack, and he was hungry.
When he offered Wilhelm some coffee after he helped him with groceries, Wilhelm had refused, saying he had work to do. When he complimented Wilhelm on how good he looked in his new coat, Wilhelm had blushed and boasted about how comfortable it was. When he offered to look after Lasagne when Wilhelm had to leave Stockholm for a few days, he'd said that he didn't want to bother him and dropped the cat at Erik's.
Erik being around didn't help Simon and his flirting. The guy had a talent: he was always showing up at the wrong time, "rescuing" Wilhelm from whatever Simon was trying. He interrupted them when Simon was about to suggest they go out for coffee, reminding Wilhelm they were late for the movies. He showed up when Wilhelm was asking Simon for a good bakery recommendation for his mother's birthday, his expensive-looking car parked right in front of the building, honking to get Wilhelm's attention. He was the one to open the door to Simon when he rang at Wilhelm's door to offer him some lasagna he "accidentally" made too much of (he was very proud of the pun material, with Wilhelm's cat being named Lasagne, peak comedy there, Simon).
So not only was Wilhelm a bit dense, on top of being overly cute and pretty and handsome, but Simon also had a rival. Rich, very good-looking, cocky, and overly nice to him, too. Rosh called it a weird rom-com, but Ayub was absolutely eating every update Simon sent their way.
Sara had told him to drop it, because if Wilhelm already had a boyfriend, it was kinda shitty to try and ruin their relationship. But by the looks of it, they weren't in one yet. Wilhelm had hinted at himself being single in a self-deprecating joke about "growing old and alone with an army of cats". Erik was certainly suffering from the same obliviousness from the boy.
But Erik had a free pass to his apartment, his number, obviously, and Lasagne's approval. Everything Simon lacked. That and money, but Simon lived under Wilhelm (not literally, not yet), so that was one point for him.
Simon settled for the easiest thing to get: the cat's approval.
Lasagne was an easy-going cat. Strolling around and sleeping were his favorite activities, so Simon started to leave little treats for him outside his door. He'd spied on Wilhelm's grocery bags to make sure he took the same brand, not to mess with the cat's health. And he made sure he didn't give too much, too.
He started carrying around cat toys he would lure Lasagne in with whenever he saw him in the courtyard or lounging in the hallway. Lasagne easily noticed Simon's friendliness and started going up to him by himself, demanding attention and scratches.
His plan was doing well until he stumbled upon a missing cat poster in the bakery. On the poster, a picture of the cat, but most importantly, its owner's phone number.
That stuck with Simon. Because it would be easy. Keep Lasagne for a day, maybe two, then watch Wilhelm put posters up, snatch his phone number, and then be the hero who "miraculously" found Lasagne.
It was the perfect excuse; he would save the day, get the cute boy's phone number, and no cat would be harmed in the process.
Of course, Simon hadn't completely lost it yet. There were some downsides to this ploy: he would have to put Wilhelm through some distress, and would deprive Lasagne of his strolls for a bit. That didn't fit into the "nice, cute neighbor" narrative he was trying to set to get into Wilhelm's pants.
So he chose to forget about this insane idea, going for something more conventional like asking for sugar to make a cake. But the minute he stepped on the upstairs landing, Wilhelm's door flew open, Erik's loud voice already grating on Simon's ears.
"Come on, Wille, we don't have all day!" He shouted, zipping up his jacket before noticing Simon. He smiled widely and waved at him, like the dumbass he was. "Hi Simon!"
Him knowing his name was infuriating enough, and Simon gritted his teeth, forcing himself to smile back. Inside the apartment, something fell on the floor, and Lasagne bolted out like an orange furry cannonball. Simon barely dodged him and looked up just as Wilhelm was scrambling to put his second shoe on, leaning against the doorframe.
He grinned and waved at him, all cute and pink cheeks, and Simon couldn't help but wave back. "You guys are going out?"
Wilhelm nodded eagerly, but Erik spoke before he could: "Yep! This one needs a bit more driving practice before the big exam!" He chuckled, sliding an arm around Wilhelm's shoulders with an ease that made Simon want to scream.
"Oh… You're getting your license soon?" He asked, talking to Wilhelm directly.
Again, Wilhelm nodded, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't have much time to pass the test before, and I don't really like cars anyway, but I can't escape it forever, so might as well do it, right?"
Simon couldn't disagree; he got his as soon as he was of age, courtesy of his dad paying for it as an attempt at apologizing for his bullshit. But he didn't even own a car, not having the use for one yet.
"Anyway, did you need something? Did Lasagne pee on your doormat?" Wilhelm asked, grimacing at the second question.
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Eh- it's not important! But no, Lasagne didn't do anything… Has he ever done that?!"
Erik, visibly tired of waiting, tugged Wilhelm forward and answered for him (couldn't he let Wilhelm speak?!): "He has, you should've seen Mr Munck's face when he came in asking for explanations!"
Okay, that image was funny enough to make Simon smile, on top of Wilhelm's contrite pout. "He wasn't really pleased…"
"When is he ever?" Simon joked lightly, earning a quiet giggle from Wilhelm and a loud, obnoxious laugh from Erik.
"Well, we gotta get going, see you later, Simon?" The hopeful lilt in Wilhelm's question made Simon's insides melt, and he was quick to nod, not trusting his voice to betray his eagerness at the prospect of seeing him later, whenever that would be.
He stepped aside to let them go down the stairs, trying not to physically gag as Erik tugged Wilhelm along by the wrist like it was nothing. He followed them down to his floor and wished them a good day (he wished Wilhelm a good day, but wasn't petty enough to actually say that out loud).
With a sigh, he turned to his door, ready to go back in and not bake a cake he didn't want anyway. But someone was already there, lounging on his cutesy rainbow Ikea doormat.
Lasagne.
The stupid plan flashed back in his mind.
It would be easy.
It would be stupid.
It would be irresponsible.
But Lasagne was so easy with him. So trusting. So much so that he didn't bat an eye when Simon scooped him up to take him inside his apartment, maybe trusting Simon to feed him more treats or to play with him.
Had he attempted to fight back against this obvious catnapping, Simon would've snapped out of whatever bullshit he was on. So really, it was all Lasagne's fault.
He could've tried to run away when Simon left for the grocery store to pick up some kibbles. Instead, he napped on his bed, leaving a trail of orange hair.
He could've made an appearance when Wilhelm knocked the morning after, asking Simon if he saw the orange cat around. Instead, he was hiding under his bed, pushing the dust around in his wake.
He could've meowed on the balcony when Simon left it open to let some air in after he peed on his carpet because Simon forgot that a cat needs a litter. Instead, he pooped in his only living plant and gnawed at the plastic ones.
After the third day of cohabitation with that disaster of a cat, Simon started to believe in karma, the universe punishing him for that stupid thing he did. At first, he thought Lasagne was getting on his nerves on purpose, but after the fourth time he hissed at himself in the bathroom mirror, Simon concluded he was simply too stupid to plot revenge.
He didn't have much of a survival instinct either, as he immediately started to sleep with Simon, spending the night on his butt and waking him by kneading his thigh, arm, or hair.
But the cat's shenanigans aside, what Simon was really waiting for was Wilhelm's reaction.
The first day, he just asked around; Lasagne disappearing for a day wasn't unusual. While Simon tried his best to save his carpet, Wilhelm left a fresh bowl outside his door.
The second day, Wilhelm was visibly worried. He asked Simon twice, when he saw him in the hallway (Simon tried his best to hide the litter in his grocery bag) and later in the evening when he knocked on his door.
The third day, Simon saw Wilhelm in the courtyard, calling out Lasagne's name and shaking a bag of treats. Lasagne perked up at the sound, and Simon had to close the window. But the look on Wilhelm's face made his heart clench.
And now, on the morning of the fourth day, Simon was clenching the missing poster he'd ripped from a lamp post outside. Wilhelm apparently grew worried enough to stick a few of those in the building and around the block. Simon's plan worked.
He should be happy; he had Wilhelm's phone number in his hand, the cat ready to be delivered back to Wilhelm before he managed to destroy his couch completely. But the victory left a sour taste in his mouth.
He briefly thought about simply releasing the cat in the hallway, pretending nothing happened. But then, he wouldn't have any excuse for having Wilhelm's phone number, and therefore couldn't use it anyway, rendering this whole charade completely useless.
So, fuck it, Simon dialed the number and waited with bated breath for Wilhelm to pick up.
When he did, with a tired "hi" on the other side of the line, Simon hesitated for a total of six seconds before blurting out: "Hi Wilhelm! It's Simon, you know, your neighbor?"
Wilhelm sighed softly. "Oh, hi Simon. Sorry, I don't have time to chat, I'm on my way to the vet clinic, I need to check if they had anyone come in with Lasagne-"
"I have him."
Something fell on the other side. Wilhelm cursed under his breath before pressing the phone back to his mouth. "You do?! You have Lasagne?!"
"Yep!" He tried to sound more cheerful than he truly was, like someone who just found a missing cat, and not its actual catnapper. "He's destroying my couch right now, all safe and sound!"
"Oh my god!" Wilhelm let out a relieved chuckle. "Where did you find him?!"
"In the bike garage," he lied, and gave Lasagne a scratch on his head as the cat came to lie on his lap.
"I've looked in there!" Wilhelm whined.
Of course he did. "He was napping in Mrs Lindberg's stroller. Thankfully, he didn't pee in there!" He tried for elaborate, with a bit of a joke to top it off. But lingering on the details would only make Simon sink deeper into lies, so he quickly added: "He's all fine, don't worry, I'm keeping him in until you come back."
"Thank you so much! You have no idea- he's never gone so long, he's too lazy for that, so I was scared something happened…"
Nice! Now Simon felt even more awful than he did before. He really outdid himself with that one. "I can imagine… Is that why he's so heavy?"
"Hey! Don't call him fat! He's just a bit fluffy." Wilhelm protested, breathing heavily like he was rushing.
Simon chuckled a bit, feeling the obvious "fluff" of Lasagne under his palm. The cat was purring like a little motor. "Yeah… Fluffly…"
"I'm on my way, I'll be there in five minutes!" He heard Wilhelm rush out on the other side of the line. Simon hummed in acknowledgement, and Wilhelm hung up with the promise of being quick.
As if he heard him, Lasagne started stretching on Simon's lap, asking for scratches and rubs. Which Simon happily gave him, bewitched by the fat ball of fur purring under his ministration. Soon enough, he was cooing at the cat, his voice high and giving him little pet names.
Really, that cat was dumb as hell, but how endearing he was made up for the lack of brain cells. And Simon was about to realize that he did share some similarities with Lasagne.
Almost exactly five minutes after he hung up the phone, Wilhelm knocked on his door. Lasagne immediately responded to the noise, climbing out of Simon's lap and letting him stand up to welcome Wilhelm in.
"Lasagne!" Wilhelm exclaimed, kneeling to catch the cat and hug him tight. "You little rascal! Don't frighten me like this again!"
Leaning against the doorframe, Simon watched as Wilhelm gave his cat kisses and scratches, complaining about the fright he gave him. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. Wilhelm really was fond of his cat and was even as cute as the orange fluffball was.
"He was a good boy. He almost didn't destroy my couch while waiting for you!" Simon joked, and Wilhelm let out a chuckle.
"That's my boy!" Wilhelm congratulated the cat, kissing his head until Lasagne put a paw on his face to stop him.
"Do you want a drink or something? You look like you ran a marathon."
Wilhelm nodded. "I kinda did. I ran all the way back from the vet clinic."
Simon stepped aside to let him in, giggling lightly as he closed the door behind Wilhelm. "You know, you could have walked normally. I wasn't about to let him escape."
Wilhelm shrugged and sat down on the couch, Lasagne still in his arms. "I'm sure you wouldn't, but I was eager to see him again, and-"
Halfway to the kitchen, Simon turned around when Wilhelm stopped talking abruptly, curious to see what had interrupted him. He didn't have the time to see exactly what shut him up.
"Do you have a cat, Simon?" Wilhelm asked, his eyes fixated on that god damn litter box Simon forgot to hide.
He was cooked.
"I…" He started, trying to think of any plausible explanation. Because why would anyone without a cat have a fucking little box in their apartment? He couldn't think of any good explanation for this, and he didn't have the time to come up with something, as Wilhelm was already raising an accusatory eyebrow.
He was observant, too, because it didn't take much time for him to spot the kibbles in the bowl next to the TV. Simon was about to say that he was trying to get stuff for a cat of his own. But there was no explanation for having kibbles ready when he didn't have a cat yet.
And for some reason, he was sure that the look Lasagne was giving him too was the revenge the cat was plotting all along.
"I can explain!" He whined, and Wilhelm raised the other eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm sure. You have two minutes." He said, narrowing his eyes.
And of course, now that he was confronted to Wilhelm, Simon didn't have any good explanation for this. Because there was none, because that plan was stupid, because he put Wilhelm through distress for nothing. And he knew it. And Wilhelm knew it too.
His shoulders sagged, and he sat down on the floor. "I was being an idiot. I didn't have the courage to ask you out or to ask you for your number or anything at this point. Like I was about to ask you for sugar for fuck's sake, how pathetic could that be-"
He sensed Wilhelm's stare on him, and he shrank a little on himself. "I was feeling really small and stupid, especially in front of that Erik guy that's always around you…"
That made Wilhelm startle a bit, and Lasagne dropped from his lap. Simon dared to look up at him and saw that Wilhelm was looking concerned, and even a bit surprised. "Erik…? What does he-"
"I was jealous, okay?" Simon blurted out, his arms flailing at his sides. Lasagne must have sensed that he was distressed because he went to bump his head against his knee. "That guy has everything I don't have! He's tall, he's handsome, he's driving fucking expensive cars and whatever… And I'm just- Simon."
Bitterly, he gave Lasagne a little scratch behind his ears, not daring to look at Wilhelm in the eye as he was talking about his stupid, misplaced ego. "I'm not some model, and I can barely afford to rent here, and I'm so awkward that I didn't even know how to flirt with you properly."
"Simon…"
"Look, I know I messed up! I put you through something awful, and I shouldn't have done that." He sighed and stood up, picking Lasagne up to put him back into Wilhelm's arms. "I'm sorry."
Wilhelm took Lasagne again and stayed silent for a bit. Simon sat down on the couch and finally dared to look up at him.
Only to see him red in the face, his lips a thin line, as if he was trying hard not to laugh. And he failed, because he snorted loudly the second Simon met his eyes.
"Sorry!" He laughed, his outburst making Lasagna startle and claw his way away from him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh, I-" Clutching his stomach, he breathed hard, trying to calm himself down.
A bit offended by Wilhelm's reaction at that point, Simon folded his arms around himself, shrinking a little bit more. "I know it was stupid, but you don't have to laugh at me like that…"
"I'm not mocking you, I'm sorry! Let me- Two seconds!" He breathed out loudly, huffing and fanning himself. "It's just… You were jealous of Erik! Of all people!"
"What? Are you telling me he's straight or something?" Simon groaned, feeling his cheeks warm with the humiliation - it wouldn't be the first time.
"Oh, he's the straightest, but he's mostly my brother."
And oh, that was even worse. Simon looked at him with wide eyes, and he could swear that his face was bright red. "Are you telling me I was jealous of your brother?"
Wilhelm shot him a smile and shrugged. "You tell me!"
Simon groaned and hid his face in his hands. "Oh, now I'm even more ridiculous! Nice. Can you bury me?"
"And miss an opportunity to have you repay me for the emotional damage? Absolutely not."
Startled, Simon looked up, frowning at Wilhelm's smug smile. Why wasn't he mad at him? The look on his face must have been priceless, because Wilhelm let out another chuckle. "I mean, it's not the most orthodox method to get someone's number, but I guess it worked?"
"Wait, aren't you mad at me?"
Wilhelm shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. I mean, it was a shitty thing to do, yes. But I think you being jealous of Erik is funny enough, so it calmed me down a bit." He leaned in a little, a conspiratory look in his eyes. "But also," he whispered, as if anyone else could hear them. "I, too, was trying to think of a way to ask you out."
"Were you?" Simon squealed in disbelief. "When you dodged every fucking attempt of flirting I threw your way?"
Wilhelm frowned, obviously a bit confused. "Wait, were you flirting with me?"
"Of course I was! Do you think I make lasagna for every boy in this building? Be for real, Wilhelm!"
"You don't get to insinuate I'm stupid when you were jealous of my brother, Simon!" He retorted, pointing a finger at him.
"And how was I supposed to know that he was your brother? It's not written on his face!"
"Oh, so now you're saying that he's prettier than me? Ok, ok! I can get you his number if you want!" Wilhelm crossed his arms, and Simon whined, throwing his head back. "You're the prettiest, Wilhelm! It's just… He's like movie-star handsome, and you're like…" He flailed his hands in front of him, gesturing to Wilhelm's entire being. "Like the boyfriend material, please-get-in-my-bed-this-instant handsome!"
And if Wilhelm wasn't already pretty enough, the pink on his cheeks made him even cuter, but Simon wasn't about to say that. "I just didn't think I had a chance, okay?"
Maybe because he was afraid of getting slapped with the amount of wild hand gestures Simon was making, Wilhelm took his hands in his. He smiled warmly, squeezing them in between their laps. "You had every chance, Simon. You're so pretty I dropped that mattress the first time I saw you. I wasn't slacking off, I just wanted to talk to you."
He bit down on his lower lip, his eyes dropping on Lasagna chasing a rogue dust bunny on the floor. "And I, too, am guilty of using Lasagna to win you over."
Simon raised his eyebrows. "What? How?"
Wilhelm chuckled, giving him a sheepish smile. "Why do you think you crossed paths with him a lot? I let him out every time I saw you."
Letting out a disbelieving chuckle, Simon returned the smile. "Maybe we should… Talk. Like normal human beings. Instead of using a cat to flirt."
"I don't know," Wilhelm shrugged, and nudged the cat with his foot to roll him over. "I think that you getting along with him is a green flag, so…"
"So…?"
"So I'll let you buy me dinner." Wilhelm finally said, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "As a repayment for the catnapping."
"Is that a date then?" Simon asked, hopeful. He couldn't believe that his plan backfired to finally get him more than what he originally wanted.
"Nope." Wilhelm said, popping the "p". He stood and picked Lasagna up, scooping him up in his arms. "As I said, it's repayment. I'll pay for the next dinner. And that one will be a date."
And oh, well, that newfound confidence was kinda hot on Wilhelm, so really, how could he argue with that? "Whatever you said…"
Wilhelm stared at him for a second, and, as if he was riding on that confidence, he leaned down, his face close to Simon. "You said 'get in my bed' material, right?"
At that point, Simon was pretty sure steam was coming out of his ears with how hot his face felt. Unable to speak in fear of his voice betraying his eagerness, he simply nodded.
"I can give you a taste, if you close your eyes."
Simon never closed his eyes faster in his life. That earned him a light chuckle, but he didn't mind: the sound of Wilhelm's laugh was like music to his ears at this point. And also, he was focused on not leaning in too much. Even if Wilhelm knew he was eager, he didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
And he was right to. Because when he expected some warm lips to press into his own, he was instead feeling a round, cold, and humid knob lightly brushing his lips.
He frowned and opened his eyes the second he heard Wilhelm's giggle.
He should've expected the big round eyes of Lasagna staring back at him, his nose pressed against Simon's lips.
Simon jerked back, making Wilhelm laugh a bit harder. "That was mean!" He whined, and Lasagne meowed, as if offended by Simon's cry. "See, he's agreeing with me!"
Holding the cat back upright, Wilhelm flashed him a bright smile. "You gotta get used to cat kisses too!" He stuck his tongue out and started walking out. "Text me a time and place for dinner!"
Following him outside, Simon shouted back: "Or maybe I'll send Lasagna back with a note, then!"
Wilhelm stopped on the first step of the stairs and looked back at him, a delighted smile on his face. "That'd be cute. I look forward to it."