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“Wille?”
“Hmm?”
Nerves fluttered in Simon’s stomach. The sunset was beautiful from their vantage point on the hilltop, but Simon couldn’t appreciate it. The golden light made Wille’s eyes turn molten amber. So often had Simon seen that colour over the last five years. So often he’d gazed into those eyes. But never—
“What’s up?” Wille's attention turned to Simon. His face held a calmly questioning look. Clearly he had no idea that Simon was about to say something that would potentially ruin them forever.
Simon turned away. It was too difficult to say directly to Wille’s lovely, lovely face. He’d been hoping to catch him as he was looking at the sky. But Simon had stalled. Wasn’t that their whole problem?
“I was just wondering…” This was harder than he’d thought. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. Maybe he was okay with them staying friends. Best friends. But no. It wasn’t right anymore. Simon couldn’t go on feeling like this every time he saw Wille. It was torture. How had he managed for so long? “I was wondering why… we never, you know… Why… nothing ever happened between us?”
Wille was silent for a beat. Desperate to know he hadn’t ruined everything, Simon turned to find Wille looking at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… like, we’ve been friends for five years.”
“Since Hillerska.”
“Yeah. And I just wondered… why… why we never— why it never—” Simon huffed in frustration. Why was this so hard? Why couldn’t he just say it? He was so certain that Wille felt it too. Had seen Wille watching him, looking at him in a way he didn’t look at their other friends.
“Hey.” Wille took his hand. “What’s wrong?”
Words weren’t helping, so Simon did the only thing that made sense to his muddled brain. He leant forward and pressed his lips to Wille’s.
They were soft and tasted like the ice cream they’d eaten on the way up. A little cold, but perfect. So perfect that Simon barely registered Wille’s jump of surprise as their lips connected. But he did notice Wille pulling away.
Fuck! Firm hands circled his upper arms as he tried to chase Wille’s lips.
“Simon.” Wille’s voice was rough and a little shaky. “What are you doing?”
Simon blinked then came to his senses. Scrambling, he moved as far away from Wille as he could without falling off their little wall. “Nothing. I— Nothing. Forget it. I—”
“Simon.”
“It’s fine. I—”
“You’re asking why we never… Why we never kissed?”
Wille didn’t look upset or angry or like he was about to break off a five-year-long friendship, so Simon nodded, holding Wille’s gaze.
“Simon… You— You were with Marcus. And then—”
“But not at first,” Simon interrupted. “Or after. Or—”
“But…” Wille huffed an incredulous laugh. “I told you I liked you. I said— You shot me down. And I figured… you didn’t— you weren’t—”
“Wait. What?” The entire last five years of their friendship was rearranging itself in Simon’s brain. “When?”
“The football field. After Erik… I’d been drinking, and—”
“Wille, you were high out of your fucking mind.”
“Yeah. I know. But still… You told me— You said—”
“How can you even remember that?”
Simon did. With dazzling clarity. Remembered Wille grabbing Simon’s coat and pulling him close. I really like you, Simon.
Simon had assumed he meant as a friend. And besides, Wille was delirious on whatever cocktail of drugs those idiots had fed him.
“Because it was— Simon… Are you saying…”
Wille looked panicky and like he couldn’t get the words out quickly enough. Then, as if suddenly coming to a decision, he pressed his mouth into a determined line, leant forward, and pulled Simon into a kiss.
A proper kiss. Not tentative, not careful. A kiss that felt as though he were pouring five years of waiting into it. Five years of—
“Wait!” Simon pulled back. “Does this mean—”
Wille didn’t give Simon chance to finish his sentence, just hauled him back with a deep groan.
The sun set beyond them as he clambered into Wille’s lap, looping his arms over his shoulders, and trying to make up for lost time.