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Carefully, Simon cracked one eye open. The light from the window made his head hurt, but no wave of dizziness hit him, so he braved the other eye too. Brightness blinded him as he tried to reorient himself. One thing at a time, Simon assessed his body. Still two legs, and two arms, a head (despite the fact that it felt twice the size of a normal head). It seemed his fever had gone down, clearly peaking in the night when he vaguely remembered waking up soaked in sweat and shaking. As his brain got used to the miracle of sight once more, the room slowly sharpened in Simon’s vision and it became clear that there was a lump on the floor. A big lump. A human-shaped lump. A—
”Wille?”
The lump grunted, then moved, then groaned. Slowly, the lump became a Crown-Prince-shaped mound, which then unfolded awkwardly into a rumpled-looking Wille.
“Simon?” Wille blinked blearily and rubbed his eyes.
Instead of dizziness, a wave of something else hit Simon. Something… tingly. And not altogether unwelcome.
“Hey,” he said. His voice was gravelly and it hurt his throat a little to speak. “Did— Did you sleep on the floor?”
Wille ducked his head away and shrugged his shoulders before turning back to Simon. “I mean… Yeah. I—” He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed it. “Your mum offered to drive me back to Hillerska, but she had to go to work. And I— You would have been all alone and…” He trailed off.
Simon had listened to most of the words Wille had said, some of them had got garbled on the way in. Partly because of his fever brain, partly because most of his attention had been on the way the colour returned to Wille’s lip as he’d released it from between his teeth.
“Huh?”
Wille chuckled and tried to get to his feet. It was then that Simon realised that he was tangled in a—
“Is that my blanket?”
Still on his knees and fighting his way out of it, Wille said, “Wha— Oh. Yeah. Is that okay? Your mum left before she could tell me where everything was. I told her I’d manage. And—”
A chuckle climbed up Simon’s throat and, within half a second, induced a coughing fit.
Scrambling across the floor, Wille looked up at him with concern. “Shit. Are— Are you okay? Can I get you— Do you need—”
“I’m fine,” Simon wheezed, waving Wille away. “Just… Pass me that glass of water.”
Wille hastened to comply and waited as Simon took several careful sips. When it finally felt safe again, Simon lowered the glass and looked properly at Wille. His hair was sticking up at a funny angle and there were noticeable dark circles under his eyes. There was also a long crease down one cheek where he must have pillowed it on—
“Is that my hoodie?” Simon nodded to a mound on the floor. The curious tingling intensifying.
“Oh!” Wille said, turning to look, then back at Simon. “I, uh, yeah… I— I didn’t know where the spare pillows were and—”
“And you couldn’t have got one off the sofa?”
“I— Maybe. But… I didn’t think about it until I got in here and I didn’t want to wake you up by moving around again. You’d been so restless and…”
Hot embarrassment flushed Simon’s face. It was only just hitting him that Wille had been here whilst he’d been probably sweaty and snotty and feverish and overall disgusting. Not the impression he’d been hoping to give when he’d invited Wille over for a games night.
He’d been feeling a little off all day as he’d waited for Wille to arrive, but he’d mostly put it down to nerves. Sara had teased him relentlessly about his guest, and really who could blame her. Simon had been uncharacteristically uncool about Crown Prince Wilhelm since before he’d even become Crown Prince. It wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t being very nonchalant about the whole thing. But all that meant was that when he realised half an hour before Wille was due to arrive that he really wasn’t feeling very well, he just pushed it down and decided he could power through; it was just a few rounds of video games after all.
After one and a half games, it became clear that Simon really, really wasn’t feeling very well. When the second game ended, Wille had turned to him with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”
Simon had insisted that he was, and maybe he just needed something to eat.
But when the pizza had arrived, the grease had turned Simon’s stomach, and he couldn’t manage anything more than half a crust.
“You look pale, mi amor,” Linda had fussed, placing a hand on his forehead.
“Mamá,” he whined, embarrassed that she was treating him like a child right in front of Wille. “I’m fine.”
Then, halfway through coffee and awkward small talk, Simon had realised with horror that he was about to either throw up or pass out. With a mumbled apology, he rushed to his room, where he dove under the covers and willed whatever this thing was away. He decided he’d just close his eyes for a moment, then maybe the shivering would stop, and he could go back out there and suggest another game. Perhaps they could share some ice cream. And maybe Simon would get to see if Wille would put his hand on his knee again like he had at movie night.
Clearly, what had actually happened, was that Simon had fallen asleep fully clothed, and Wille had… what? Talked to his mum until her shift started? Discussed Simon? Asked to sleep over? And then… curled up on the floor under a thin blanket with a hoodie as a pillow?
Simon’s feverish brain couldn’t comprehend that. But he wasn’t sure his lucid brain would be able to either. Being friends with Wille was strange enough on paper. Not that it was in reality. Wille was surprisingly normal, surprisingly fun, and surprisingly cute. It was very easy to be friends with him. The problem was, as had been apparent for at least the last two months, Simon did not want to be Wille’s friend.
And if the stolen glances, the shy smiles, and – yes – that fucking hand on his knee at movie night were anything to go by, neither did Wille.
An unprovoked coughing fit reminded Simon that now was not the time to be lamenting the status of his relationship with Wille. When, in fact, he desperately needed a shower.
“Oh! Of course!” Wille said when Simon voiced that out loud, as if he should have thought of it himself. “Can I— Do you need me to get you anything? Do you—”
“I can shower fine on my own thanks, Wille,” Simon chuckled with what he hoped was a flirty expression but may very well have been a grimace.
But perhaps the expression wasn’t necessary because Wille turned an alarming pink colour and spluttered as he said, “I didn’t mean—! I wasn’t—! I just… Can you walk? You were a bit wobbly last night.”
“Fuck you, I can walk fine!” Simon protested. Possibly a little too vehemently. When he tried to push himself to his feet, his legs were indeed too wobbly and he dropped back down onto the bed with an ‘oof’ and double vision.
“Shit.” WIlle’s concerned expression swam in front of his face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” A war was waging within Simon. Part of him wanted to wave Wille away, insist that he was fine, tell him to stop fussing. The other part wanted Wille’s warm hands to stay on his knees, and for those fathomless brown eyes to stay on his. Simon was staring. He blinked quickly and repeated, “I’m fine. I just stood up too quickly.”
“Here.” Wille got to his feet and held out a hand. “Let me help.”
Simon hesitated only for a moment before placing his (clammy) hand in Wille’s outstretched one. This had not been the way Simon had envisaged them holding hands again. It was the fourth time – once on the bikes, once at movie night, and once when Simon had stumbled walking down the steps at Hillerska and Wille had instinctively grabbed him. They’d laughed about it afterwards, but Simon’s palm had tingled for the next hour, and Wille’s blush had taken a while to go away.
Time number four was just as brief as the others and Wille dropped his hand as soon as Simon was steady on his feet. Simon tried not to let his disappointment show. In the end, he needn’t have been disappointed because it became clear after two shaky steps that he could not, in fact, walk to the bathroom on his own.
With Wille’s arm looped around his waist, and his other hand in his, they wobbled unsteadily to the bathroom.
“I can do this bit myself,” Simon rushed out, blushing. “Thanks.”
“Are you sure?” It said a lot about how ill Simon must look that Wille didn’t even look remotely embarrassed to be asking that. “Becasue I can—”
“No,” Simon said firmly. “Thanks. But… I can do it myself.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Wille.” Simon tried to convey with his eyes just how much he did not want Wille to be here as he feverishly undressed for a shower. “Please go away.”
“Oh!” Wille looked suddenly shocked to find himself standing in the bathroom. Red blotches appeared on his cheeks and he stumbled backwards. “Of course! I didn’t— I’ll just—” And with an awkward nod, he closed the door behind him.
Simon let out a noise that was halfway between a giggle and a groan. That set off another round of coughing, which caused Wille to send a panicked “Are you okay!” through the door.
“Fine!” Simon choked out, trying to get control of his lungs again. A few deep breaths later, which only made him slightly lightheaded, and Simon had enough energy to reach over and turn on the shower. The room instantly filled with thick steam, and a big inhale helped to clear his head a little. Right. Clothes.
The idea of having to undress himself when his head felt stuffed with cotton wool and his arms were like lead was not appealing. But it was considerably more appealing than the idea of Wille coming back in here and helping him fight his way out of his hoodie.
That was a daydream for a different time. A less sweaty time. A less dizzy time. A less— Oh God.
Simon sat down on the floor with a thump. Small lights flashed in his visions and he blinked rapidly to try to make them go away. With a groan, he dropped his head between his knees and sucked in a breath. That made him feel even more dizzy somehow. Maybe he should just die right here on the bathroom floor if breathing made him almost pass out.
Without his permission, his body slumped sideways, cheek connecting with the cool floor. That was better. That was nice. That was—
“Simon?” Wille’s voice was tentative and could barely be made out over the sound of the shower.
Simon made a noise in response.
“I thought I heard— Are you okay? Do you need me to… get you anything?”
Another noise forced its way out of Simon’s lips before he had the wherewithal to say, “No! I’m fine! It’s just… taking a bit more energy than I thought it would.”
The floor was really nice. Perhaps he could stay here forever until whatever it was went away.
“Are you sure you don’t— Oh!”
There was a clattering outside the door followed by a “Simon? Mi amor? Are you okay?”
With horror, Simon could feel himself start to cry.
“Can I come in?”
Simon made a soggy noise of assent and moments later his mother’s cool hand was pressed against his forehead and everything felt a little better. Just over her shoulder, he could see Wille hovering by the door, but he didn’t even have enough energy left to be bothered.
“What do you need?” Linda murmured, frowning as she pushed his hair off his sticky forehead.
“A new body,” Simon muttered. “This one sucks.”
Linda chuckled and cupped his cheek. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, leant forward and whispered, “I think someone would be quite upset if you changed.”
Heat that was completely unrelated to fever flushed his entire face and chest. “Mamá,” he whined.
“What?” she said in a low voice with a gentle laugh. “He refused to leave last night and said he wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Mamá.” He knew he sounded pathetic, but he felt like shit and Wille was right there, even though he almost certainly couldn’t hear them over the shower, and he didn’t have the capacity to deal with his mother calling him out on this. “I just want to shower.”
“Here. Let me.” With strength only possessed by someone whose entire job consists of hauling ill people around, she got him into a sitting position. Then she twisted and said to Wille, “I’ll be right out,” before closing the door. He had barely any time to prepare himself before his hoodie was being removed swiftly and gently. “He seems really sweet,” she said conversationally as she took his t-shirt off too.
“Mamá,” he said again, unable to argue.
“What?” She scooted back and started taking off his socks. “You like him, yes?”
Simon lifted his hips so that she could tug his sweat pants down. And, sitting in his underwear on the floor of his bathroom, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was the fact that she was taking care of him, but suddenly he wanted her to know just how much. “I really do.”
She smiled and cupped his cheek. “And I think he does too.”
“You don’t know that,” Simon said, slightly choked up. It was silly, really. He was almost certain Wille was feeling this too. But he was tired and fed up and embarrassed and achy and everything felt too much.
“You’re right,” Linda said, scooping her hands under his armpits. “But… maybe when you’re feeling a little better, you can think about it, hmm?”
“Okay.” He didn’t have the energy to argue as they tried to get him to his feet.
“Do you need help—”
“No, Mamá,” he interrupted. “I’ll be fine.”
“Leave the bathroom door unlocked, okay?” she added. “And shout if you need anything.”
“I promise.”
He let her stroke his cheek once more before sending him a soft smile and leaving the room.
For a moment, he just stood and swayed in the middle of the bathroom. Shame prickled at the edges of his consciousness before he shook his head firmly, pushed it away, slipped down his underwear and stepped into the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, Simon exited the bathroom by first peering around the edge of the door, then shuffling as quickly as his ailing body would allow back down the hallway to his bedroom, clutching his towel around his waist.
The steam had helped clear his head a little, but standing up for so long had exhausted his body. When he got to his room he flopped facedown on his bed then used all his remaining energy to roll onto his back so that he didn’t suffocate.
Less than a minute later there came a tentative knock on the doorframe.
“Simon?”
Simon made a noise. Not a particularly helpful noise, but a noise all the same. The curtain rustled as Wille pushed it back and stepped into the room with a half swallowed, “Oh.”
There was no energy left for Simon to feel embarrassed about his state of undress. It wasn’t like they hadn’t changed for rowing in front of each other before.
“I, uh…” Wille stammered. “Should I go?”
“It’s fine,” Simon murmured, still not opening his eyes. “Just… give me a sec, then I’ll find the energy to get dressed.”
Simon could sense Wille hovering and it set his teeth on edge, but not enough to do anything about it, so he just waited.
“Can, uh, can I get you anything? To drink? Or to eat? Your mum said you might want some pasta… or…”
Simon cracked his eyes open and turned his head slightly to look at Wille. “You’re offering me pasta?”
“Well…” Wille said, bringing his thumb to his mouth. “I think your mum would make it. I’m just… the messenger.”
“Huh,” Simon said. Then, because apparently his immune system was using up a hundred percent of his brain function, he added, “Cute.”
Wille’s eyes widened slightly before he shook his head. If Simon wasn’t mistaken he was fighting back a small smile. “So,” he said. “Pasta?”
Despite trying, Simon couldn’t manage the pasta. He did manage to drink the water though under strict guidance from both his mother and Wille.
By the time he was done, he was also done. With a huge amount of effort, he hauled himself up from the table and turned to go back to his room.
“Uh…” Wille’s unsure voice caused him to stop and turn back.
“Huh?” The water had clearly not replenished his language centre.
“I, uhm… I have to go back. To school,” Wille said. “It’s evening practice tonight and I, uh, I didn’t tell anyone where I was. If I don’t show…” He trailed off. Simon knew what Wille not showing would mean. Questions. And neither of them really wanted that. Not that they were doing anything wrong. Not that they were doing anything at all.
“Oh,” Simon said, disappointment leaking into his voice. “Okay.”
“I said I’d drive him,” Linda chipped in. “Before I go to bed. I’ve got another night shift so…”
“Yeah,” Simon said, nodding and pretending there wasn’t a lump forming in his throat. “Of course. Yeah.”
Wille’s chair scraped along the floor as he stood up. For several long seconds, they both just looked at each other. Simon wasn’t sure why Wille had got up, and it appeared Wille wasn’t sure either. It didn’t help that Linda’s eyes were bouncing between them with a barely contained gleeful expression.
“Well…” Simon said. “Thanks for coming. Sorry I—”
“Thanks for having me,” Wille rushed out. “I had a really good time.”
Simon chuckled. “You don’t have to say that.”
“No,” Wille said, shaking his head vehemently. “I really have. It— It was really… nice.”
And… Simon believed him. His brain believed him and his body, which was currently full of pleasant tingles, believed him. Damn, he really wished his mum wasn’t there. And that he wasn’t currently snotty and sweaty and generally disgusting.
Instead of doing what he wanted to do (dramatically flinging himself at Wille and kissing him) he just smiled and said, “Okay. Well. That’s good. Hopefully next time I won’t have lurgy.”
“Next time?” The hope on Wille’s face was too much for Simon’s broken body to take.
“Yeah,” he said, trying to appear cool while someone was throwing a party in his skull. “Next time. If you—”
“Yes please,” Wille interrupted. “I mean… If… Yes. I’d love to.”
As they smiled at each other like idiots, Simon caught sight of Linda out of the corner of his eye. She looked about ready to take off.
Simon took a small step back and nodded. “Okay. Well. I, uhm, I hope you didn’t catch anything.” He laughed awkwardly through his blush. “Not that, uhm… But yeah. And… thanks… for, uhm, for… sleeping on my floor. And for, uh… looking after me.”
“It was no problem,” Wille rushed out. “I was happy to. I’m glad I could help. I— I didn’t want you to be on your own.”
If it was possible for a human being to melt into a puddle on the floor, Simon was convinced he would have done just that. As I was he just sent what was probably a ridiculous grin to Wille and said, “Well. Bye then.”
“Bye.”
Oh God. Simon wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole. But he also wanted to lie down. Now. So with a little awkward wave, he turned and bolted to his room where he flopped face down on his bed and screamed into his pillow.
For the rest of the day, Simon drifted in and out of sleep. The fever had gone, but he was still bone-tired, as if he’d barely slept at all. He wondered how much Wille had slept – curled up on the floor under the blanket with Simon’s hoodie (with his hoodie!). Clearly he was well rested enough for training because later that evening Simon got a text.
Training wasn’t as fun without you.
I hope you’re feeling a little better.
See you at school?
Simon blinked at the words for several seconds before they sank in. Then he let out a squeal that would have had his mother running if she hadn’t just left for work.
Wasn’t as fun without you.
Simon really hoped he was better soon.
Two days later, and Simon had started to feel better. Not quite one hundred percent himself, but the fever hadn’t come back, he’d slept much better on the last couple of nights, and he could breathe through his nose again.
It was with giddy trepidation that he stepped off the bus and headed to his first lesson. Maths. With Wille just across the gap in the tables. So close that he could lean over and talk to Simon. Which he often did.
But apparently not today.
Because there was no Wille in maths. Or in the next lesson they had together. Or at lunch.
“Where’s Wille?” Valter asked Henry once they’d sat down with their plates.
Henry shrugged. “I’ve not seen him today. Maybe he’s ill. There’s been something going round.”
“Yeah,” someone said from further down the table. “Simon missed practice a few days ago. You were ill, right?”
Something akin to guilt twisted in Simon’s stomach. “Yeah,” he said. “I was.”
Henry and Valter moved reflexively back from the table. “I’m fine now,” he snapped at them. They didn’t look convinced. So he rolled his eyes and said, “I’m going to find Wille.” Then he stood up from the table, depositing his plate on the side on his way past.
Simon had only been to Wille’s dorm room once before – and only very briefly. In one of the weeks following Erik’s funeral, Wille had left a book in his room and, as they’d been walking to class, he’d dragged Simon with him to grab it, stating that he didn’t want to be alone. Simon had gone willingly and tried not to let his heart break for his new friend who was hurting so much.
Once he got there, he tentatively knocked on the door.
“Hello?” came the most pathetic sound Simon had ever heard.
“It’s me,” Simon said through the door. “Simon,” he added for good measure.
There was a groan, and a thump, and a funny shuffling noise. Then the door opened revealing a very pale Wille with alarmingly pink spots high on his cheekbone, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and sad, wet eyes that looked like they hadn’t gotten any sleep.
“Oh,” Simon breathed. “Fuck. Wille… I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
“It’s fine,” Wille mumbled, then sniffed and shuffled backwards, letting Simon step into the room.
“When did you start to feel bad?” Simon asked, closing the door carefully behind him.
“I just woke up feeling rotten,” Wille said, sinking down onto the bed and melting into a lump, the blanket pulled over his head. “I was fine last night. I was going to text you but…” He trailed off.
Simon crouched down in front of the bed. “I really am sorry.”
Wille tried to shake his head and winced. “It’s not your fault. Johan had it last week too. Maybe I—”
“And did you sleep on Johan’s floor as well?” Simon asked, trying to insert as much teasing into that question as he could to hide the fluttering in his chest.
“No.” Wille had closed his eyes, but his lips stretched into a small smile. “Just you.”
Just you.
Wille had somehow managed to instill an incredible amount of fondness into those words and Simon was completely and utterly fucked.
“Well,” Simon said, trying in vain to keep hold of the last vestiges of his sanity. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you sleep on mine then.”
“You didn’t let me,” Wille mumbled. “I wanted to. I didn’t want you to be alone. I wanted to look after you. I wanted to— I like you.”
Fuck fuck fuck.
The last words had been said so quietly, and thick with fever and sleepiness that Simon almost hadn’t heard them. But he had. Wille’s eyes had stayed shut and he showed no indication of wanting to take them back. But he also didn’t seem to be thinking much at all. His breaths were coming out shallow and too quick, but he seemed more relaxed.
There was nothing in this world that could stop Simon reaching out and pushing Wille’s hair off his forehead. Wille didn’t react at all, his warm breath caressing the skin on the inside of Simon’s wrist. Then he screwed up all his courage, leaned in and whispered, “I like you too.”
It was difficult to tell if it was the early morning light from the window, or the crick in his neck that woke Simon up. Either way, it was very unpleasant. He groaned and tried to move, only to have a sharp pain shoot from the base of his spine all the way to his skull.
“Fuck,” he muttered as he tried to carefully stretch out.
“Morning,” came a voice from above him.
Simon tried to tilt his head, only to be rewarded by another stab to the back of his neck.
He hissed and brought his hand up to rub it. “Morning,” he said, then tried to move his neck again without incident this time.
When he looked up he found Wille gazing down at him from the bed, a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that,” Simon said, moving carefully to a seated position. From this vantage point, he took a better look at Wille. He was still pale, but had maybe a touch more colour than he had yesterday. His eyes still looked tired, but it looked like the tired of just having woken up rather than exhaustion. He looked soft and rumpled and Simon was fighting every impulse to climb onto the bed and crawl into his arms.
“I’m okay I think,” Wille said. “A bit—” He paused, gave Simon a funny look, then let out an almighty sneeze followed by a groan.
Chuckling, Simon reached for a tissue and passed it to him.
“Thanks,” Wille mumbled. Then: “Sorry.”
“That’s okay,” Simon laughed. “It’s not like I wasn’t doing the same to you two days ago. Which is what got you in this mess.”
Wille blew his nose and made another displeased noise. After discarding the tissue on the floor, about which Simon said nothing, Wille pillowed his cheek on his hand and said, “You didn’t have to stay, you know.”
“I know,” Simon replied. “I—” He paused, wondering how honest to be. Wondering whether to bring up yesterday. Wondering how awkward it would be if Wille didn’t remember. Or if he did remember but had meant it in a different way. “Do you remember what you said to me yesterday?”
The blush on Wille’s cheeks told Simon just as well as words that Wille did, in fact, remember what he’d said to Simon. Once Wille had fallen asleep the previous afternoon, Simon had gone to classes, endured workies, bribed Henry to grab him some dinner, and then returned to Wille’s room. Wille had barely roused all evening, but Simon hadn’t been able to leave. Hadn’t wanted to. Had wanted to care for Wille in the same way Wille had cared for him.
When Wille didn’t say anything for a really long time, Simon tried to send him an encouraging smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “I… guess you didn’t hear me say it back then?”
Wille’s eyes went wide. “You did?”
Suddenly bashful, Simon nodded. The silence stretched on for too long, but Simon found it impossible to tear his gaze from Wille’s. Then Wille laughed.
“What?” Simon said, suddenly slightly panicky. “What did I—”
Then Wille let out a whine and covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe I have a stupid fucking cold or flu or whatever the fuck this is.”
“I know,” Simon said, trying to sound soothing. “It sucks. It really—”
“No,” Wille said, dropping his hands. “It’s not that.”
“Oh,” Simon said, confused. “Then what?”
Wille pulled in a long breath, never breaking eye contact. His exhale was a little shaky before he tugged his lips up into a small, shy smile. “It does suck. But… it sucks because…” – another shaky breath, this one making Simon’s insides all clench up in anticipation – “Because I’d really like to kiss you.”
It was as though all the insides that had been clenched up had disappeared entirely and Simon was left with an odd but not unpleasant weightless feeling. Apparently he hadn’t said anything for too long because Wille let out an awkward laugh that brought on a short but intense coughing fit, and then, once he’d recovered, said, “Uhm… Do you… I—” He cut himself with another embarrassed huff.
“I want to kiss you too,” Simon rushed out, finally breaking out of whatever frozen state Wille’s admission had put him in.
“Oh,” Wille breathed. “Oh… Well… That’s good. I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Now it was Simon’s turn to be worried he’d said the wrong thing. “Why only you suppose?”
“Well. Because. I thought when I finally plucked up the courage to say that, that I’d get to, well, kiss you.”
And, yes, it wasn’t ideal. But Simon didn’t care. It was enough that he knew.
“Can I come up there?”
“Sure.” Wille was already shuffling backwards to make space for Simon. “I’m gross though.”
“No grosser than I was,” Simon pointed out as he got to his feet and took the two steps towards the bed.
“Yeah,” Wille said, lifting the covers so Simon could slip in next to him. “But I didn’t kiss you.”
Simon wiggled to get comfortable, placing his head on the pillow next to Wille. “I’m not going to kiss you either.”
“Oh.” Wille sounded so disappointed that Simon had to laugh.
“You are gross, and I don’t want you sneezing directly into my mouth. And anyway, you sound like you wouldn’t be able to breathe through your nose. I don’t want to be responsible for you dying. I’d quite like to keep you alive if possible.”
“It’s your germs,” Wille pointed out a little petulantly.
“We don’t know that,” Simon said. “Maybe they’re Johan’s. Maybe—” He let out a screech as Wille, now in reaching distance, grabbed his waist and tickled him. It was short lived though as Wille stopped to hack up half of his lungs. “See,” Simon said once it was clear he wasn’t dying. “Gross.”
“Why are you up here then?” Wille sounded utterly miserable, so Simon decided to let him out of his misery.
“Turn round,” he said gently, nudging Wille’s shoulder with his hand.
With some difficulty in the small bed, Wille did as instructed, shuffling around to face the wall. Once he was in place, Simon scooched closer, pressing his chest into Wille’s back and looping a hand around his middle. Wille’s skin was warm and a little clammy, but Simon didn’t care. Neither, apparently, did Wille, who let out a content noise and settled into Simon’s embrace, wrapping his own arms over Simon’s.
“This okay?” Simon murmured into the back of Wille’s neck.
Wille’s hair tickled his nose as he nodded, letting out a small hum. “Yeah. ‘S nice.”
So that was how they stayed for a while, Wille’s breathing evening out, and Simon passing time counting the freckles on Wille’s back. After a while, Simon’s stomach drove him from the bed. Wille had dozed off again, so Simon whispered a promise that he’d be back later and went to find Henry to convince him to get him breakfast.
There’d be questions, Simon was sure, but he didn’t care. He floated through the rest of the day on a cloud. Several times, he popped to Wille’s room. Some times he was awake, others he wasn’t. He gratefully received the sandwich and fruit Simon smuggled for him from lunch but said that he’d wait for one of the other boarders to bring him dinner later.
“You can’t stay again,” Wille said, trying to sound stern from where he was reclining on the bed and failing.
“I can,” Simon retorted. “Well… I could. But I’m not going to. I need a shower and a change of clothes. And I want some proper food.”
“Oh,” Wille said, failing to keep the disappointment from his voice. Then added, “I mean good.”
Simon chuckled. “Are you saying I smell?”
“I don’t think I can judge anyone at the moment,” Wille said, wrinkling his nose.
And that was fair. The room definitely smelt like it had had an ill teenage boy sleeping in it for a while. Instead of saying that, which would have been mean and hypocritical, Simon just laughed. Then, bashfully, said, “But I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Wille rushed out. “I mean… I don’t know if I’ll be well enough for class. But… it would be good to see you. If… you’re around.”
Simon grinned. He really, really liked this ridiculous boy. “Sure,” Simon said. “I think I can be ‘around’.”
“Fuck off,” Wille laughed.
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He tried to sound annoyed, but his stupid grin was giving him away. What he really wanted to do was kiss Wille, but he knew that wasn’t an option. Yet.
But it meant he was very grateful when Wille shuffled to the edge of the bed and, as he carefully got to his feet., said, “Can I… give you a hug?”
“Yeah,” Simon breathed. “That would be nice.”
And it was. Wille stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Simon. They’d hugged before – a few times. But this one felt… different. Wille didn’t just hold Simon, he clung to him. And at first, it was a little overwhelming, but then Simon melted into it, revelling in how well his cheek could rest on Wille’s shoulder, and how nice it felt as Wille carefully caressed his back.
It lasted longer than it probably should have done, but Simon wasn’t complaining.
As they stepped apart, they both gave awkward little chuckles, Wille’s cheeks a fiery red. Simon took another step back to prevent himself from breaking his self imposed not-kissing-the-gross-ill-person rule.
“Well,” he said. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Wille said. “Bye, Simon. And… thanks. For looking after me.”
“It’s no problem,” Simon said. “You did exactly the same for me.”
“I know. But… it’s still nice.”
Simon smiled. “See you tomorrow, Wille.”
“See you tomorrow.”
There was a spring in Simon’s step the whole way home. And when Sara told him to stop smiling at dinner, he just stuck his tongue out at her until she rolled her eyes and left the table.
Wille wasn’t well enough for class the next day. But he was well enough to be bored. So Simon spent most of his free time in Wille’s room. He even offered to skip Swedish, but Wille wouldn’t let him.
That evening they shared another intense hug that left Simon tingling for the whole rest of the evening. If this was what Wille’s hugs were like, what should he expect from Wille’s kisses? He was trying not to get his hopes up too much, but when Wille had been talking to him during lunch, Simon had been unable to tear his eyes away from Wille’s lips, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed (or unmentioned).
As Simon was lying in bed, idly scrolling on his phone, a text message came through.
Hey. Thanks for today. I think I’m feeling much better. I’ll be in class in the morning. But did you maybe want to get lunch together? And then maybe hang out in my room?
Simon was powerless to stop the giddy butterflies that erupted in his chest.
Hang out? 😜
Dots appeared and disappeared for several seconds before Wille’s reply came through.
Yes. Hang out. I really liked spending time with you these last few days.
And oh, now Simon felt bad about making fun of him for it. For about as long as it took for Wille’s next message to come through.
I’d also really like to kiss you. If you still want to. And if you don’t think I’m too gross.
The butterflies threw a parade.
Simon tried to think of a snarky response, but just couldn’t. Apparently Wille brought out his earnestness.
I still want to.
But then, because he couldn’t resist, he added:
And I don’t know if you’re still too gross. I’ll have to judge that tomorrow 😜
Realistically, Simon didn’t think there was any way he’d still think Wille was too gross tomorrow. And with the thought that he’d finally – finally – be getting to kiss Wille tomorrow, he drifted off to sleep, only in the morning reading Wille’s response.
I look forward to it.
Good night Simon 💜
Simon was nervous. Wille had been in class that morning, but the bus had been late, so they’d not been able to do much more than send each other quick smiles before the lesson started.
By the time lunch rolled around, there was a not insignificant chance that Simon would take off like a rocket with all the nervous energy he was holding in. When Wille dropped down into the seat next to him when a quiet, “Hi,” Simon almost exploded.
“Hi,” he said back instead. “How are you feeling?”
“Yeah,” Valter said loudly from across the table, making Simon jump. “Sorry you were ill, Wille. I’m glad you’re better.”
“Yeah!” someone else chimed in from further down the table. “Welcome back, Wille!”
“Thanks,” Wille said with a polite smile. “I feel much better.”
“Will you be at training later?” someone else asked.
“Maybe,” Wille said. “I’ll see how I feel.”
The general chatter turned away from Wille and he took a mouthful of food before turning slightly to Simon. “I am feeling much better,” he repeated. Then, with an undeniable lean into Simon’s side he added, “Thank you.”
Simon really hoped nobody was paying any attention to them because he was fairly sure his face had gone bright red. He pressed back against Wille and tried and failed to swallow his pleased smile. “I didn’t even do anything.”
“Yes you did,” Wille insisted. “You kept me sane, for one thing. And you got me food. And… it was just… really nice to have you there.”
Yep. There was definitely a non-zero chance of explosion. Instead, Simon nudged the hand that was holding his fork across the gap between them and pressed the side of his hand against Wille’s. A thrill zipped through his as he immediately felt Wille press back before moving away with a small smile on his face.
Why did they need to eat lunch? Simon thought they were probably done. Apparently Wille didn’t agree because he filled another fork and put it in his mouth. Simon tried very hard not to watch it.
A million years later, Wille pushed his plate away and leant back in his chair. Somehow they’d ended up so close together that their elbows brushed as he did it. Simon wasn’t even embarrassed about that. If he’d not been so hyper aware of all the other people in this room, he’d have absolutely climbed into Wille’s lap by now. But that probably wouldn’t have gone down particularly well.
“I think I’m going to go and rest in my room for a bit. Before lessons this afternoon,” Wille said to no one in particular. “I still feel a bit tired.”
“Sounds sensible,” Henry said. “Do you want me to come and get you when it’s time—”
“No!” Wille cried, probably a little too forcefully. He coughed and lowered his voice. “I mean— No, thanks, Henry. I’ll be fine.”
He stood up, his chair scraping loudly along the floor. Before he went to clear his plate, Wille turned to Simon with a completely unnecessary pointed look and said, “See you in a bit?”
“Yeah,” Simon replied, going for casual and missing by about a thousand kilometres. “I hope you feel better.”
With another significant look, Wille stepped away from the table as Simon tried to hide his hot face in the remains of his lunch that there was no way he was going to eat. Luckily, no one really cared that Simon was still there, so he was left alone to slowly count to a hundred in his head. Then, with as little fanfare as possible, he quickly got up from the table and shoved his plate away before rushing from the dining hall.
The walk to Wille’s room took forever and also no time at all. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the door with his hand raised and enough anticipatory energy to power an entire country.
Another moment’s pause, and he knocked. The door opened immediately and a hand came out, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and hauled him into the room. There were giggles and stumbles and one yelp and then the door was tugged shut and suddenly all the air had gone from the room.
They were standing facing each other in the gap between the bed and the desk. In the gap that Simon had slept in only a couple of nights earlier. The silly grin on Wille’s face was morphing into something gentle, something sweeter and more fond, something almost cautious.
“Hi,” Wille said.
“Hi.”
Simon wasn’t entirely sure how he’d expected this to go. All he knew was that he’d been basically promised a kiss and wasn’t yet being kissed. Had Wille changed his mind? It didn’t seem like he had at lunch.
Well. Only one way to find out.
Quickly, Simon took a step forward. A quiet gasp slipped from Wille’s lips as Simon gazed up at him. From this vantage point Simon could see the freckles on Wille’s nose and the way his eyelashes feathered on his cheeks when he blinked.
“Okay?” Simon asked, voice coming out as not much more than a breath.
Wille nodded. “Okay.”
They both moved at the same time – slowly, determinedly. When their lips connected, Simon felt Wille sigh against him, soft breath dancing across his own lips as they sought more connection.
It didn’t last long. A couple of seconds at most and then Wille was drawing back. Simon resisted the urge to chase him; that had not been nearly enough kissing for how long he’d been waiting for it. Fluttering his eyes open, Simon watched as Wille did the same. They were still incredibly close together, and Simon could see himself reflected in Wille’s eyes. It would have been a little unnerving if the look in them hadn’t been one of complete and utter awe.
Before Simon had chance to feel uncomfortably perceived, Wille was leaning in again, more surely this time. As their lips met, Simon felt Wille’s fingers gently brushing the back of his hand. He tangled their fingers together and took the tiniest step forward so that their chests were touching and he could tilt his head and—
Fireworks erupted in Simon’s chest as Wille’s tongue slipped past his lips. If Simon had realised the kiss was going to be this good, he wouldn’t have waited for so long to do it. Something similar seemed to be going on in Wille’s brain before he let go of Simon’s fingers only so that he could bring his hand up and cup the sides of Simon’s face.
Simon felt held and cherished and wasn’t sure how his knees were still managing to support his weight. But just in case they failed any time soon, he decided it was in everybody’s best interest for him to reach up and loop his arms around Wille’s neck.
And, oh, this was even better! His stomach swooped in delight as Wille seemed to smile against his lips before diving back in. After several more minutes of that, during which Simon was almost certain he’d ascended to a higher plane of being, Wille drew away with a contented sigh.
A giggle bubbled up Simon’s throat and drew a smile out of Wille before it slipped again. “I wish we didn’t have to go back to class,” Wille said.
“Maybe we don’t,” Simon said, rubbing his nose against Wille’s. “Maybe we could stay here. You have been ill. Perhaps—”
“No we can’t,” Wille chuckled, interrupting him. “And anyway, how would we explain you being here?”
“I’m looking after you. Like a very good friend.”
“Is that so?”
Simon giggled as Wille nuzzled his nose into the space behind Simon’s ear. “A very good friend?”
“Very good,” Simon replied, trying hard to keep the teasing tone but losing it a little as Wille started kissing down the side of his neck.
But then, to Simon’s dismay, Wille drew back with a sigh. “We can’t,” he said. “I can’t miss any more. And besides, it would be too suspicious.”
Simon knew that Wille was right, it didn’t mean he had to like it. Apparently his face said as much because Wille chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to Simon’s lips. Warm syrup slid down Simon’s spine and made him shiver.
“I have a different idea though,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Simon’s voice came out breathless and shaky.
“Mhm.” He dropped another kiss to Simon’s lips before moving back. “It’s practice later. So… maybe you could come here? After class? And we could… go together?”
“Go to rowing together?”
Wille nodded, eyes darting around Simon’s face. “And, I mean, there’s a couple of hours before then. And we could… hang out.”
Simon snorted. “Hang out? Like we’re doing now?”
Wille grinned and nodded, clearly pleased Simon understood his meaning. “Yes. Exactly like we’re doing now.”
“Well then,” Simon leaned towards Wille. “I guess I’m looking forward to rowing later.”
Wille caught him round the waist and tugged him closer. “Good. Because I’m looking forward to rowing later.”
Possessed by something bolder, Simon ran his hands down Wille’s back, hesitated only briefly at the waistband of his jeans, before skimming his hand over the back pocket and pulling them flush together. Wille gasped and stumbled before righting himself, pink splotches on his cheekbones that made Simon tingle all over.
“We’d better get to class then,” Simon murmured. “Or people will wonder what we’re doing.”
Before Simon could step out of Wille’s space like he intended, Wille had cupped him around the back of the neck and hauled their mouths together. It was messy and urgent and way more intense than any of their other kisses.
When they broke apart, Wille took a determined step backwards, a slightly smug expression on his face.
“What was that?” Simon asked, trying to blink away the stars.
Wille shrugged. “Nothing,” he said. “Just wanted one last kiss before an afternoon of classes.” And with that he turned on his heel and headed for the door. “Are you ready?” he sent over his shoulder.
Simon blinked again and shook his head. How they were going to get through several more hours of school when he now knew what Wille’s mouth tasted like was beyond him. But, with a steadying breath, he turned to follow Wille. Just before he opened the door, Wille dropped another quick kiss to his lips. “And another,” he whispered. “For good luck.”
And then he opened the door.