Work Text:
“Hey! I was gonna eat that!”
Simon’s face is pure innocence as he licks his lips clean of the tell-tale red juice staining them – the evidence of his crime, stealing the final berries Wille had deliberately left on his plate.
“Well, you shouldn’t have left then, should you?” says Simon, reaching up with both hands to pull Wille down towards him for a short, sweet kiss, tasting of strawberries.
“I went to the bathroom. For two minutes,” Wille points out, climbing over Simon’s legs until he can settle back into his former spot on the sofa, head cushioned on Simon’s stomach and legs stretched out. He could also have added that it was the very first time he’d left Simon’s side for even a second since they’d driven away from Hillerska that afternoon, whooping and cheering in the back of an ancient Volvo.
He gets it though. Every time he looks at Simon’s face, sees his own incredulous joy reflected back at him, that same swooping sense of freedom, it’s hard to tear himself away.
Like right now, with Simon’s gaze fixed on his, smile so bright it could hurt. Wille wraps an arm around his middle, tilts his face up; and Simon obliges, leaning forward to brush Wille’s hair to one side and place another gentle, lingering kiss on his lips.
“Are you two going to be like this all summer?” says another, unexpected voice.
They break hastily apart, Wille flushing as he meets Sara’s unimpressed stare. He had maybe forgotten that she and Felice were still in the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table as they made plans together.
“Yeah, I’m not being funny, guys,” says Felice. She sounds slightly more amused than Sara does, but then again, it isn’t her brother. “Very happy for you both, love the love and all that, but if you’re going to keep this up, we’re going to have to set some ground rules for this trip.”
“Definitely. I’m not going if you’re going to do this the whole time,” agrees Sara, face set, and Wille has absolutely no idea if she’s joking or not. He looks to Simon for help, but he doesn’t seem to know either, shrugging as he meets Wille’s eyes.
“Ground rules?”
“Rule one,” says Felice, marking them off on her fingers. “No kissing.”
“What?” They both scramble to sit up, sharing horrified looks. “Ever?”
“Not while me or Sara are in the room, no. Rule two: no groping.”
“Rule three,” says Sara, “no touching at all.”
“Right! Okay then, rule four, to be on the safe side, you have to keep at least one metre apart at all times.”
“Oh, come on--”
“Ah! We haven’t finished. Number five, no lovey-dovey stuff.”
“No sharing food.”
“No gazing into each other’s eyes.”
“No pet names.”
“When have you ever heard us use pet names?” says Simon, indignant; but Wille can see a glimmer of a smile start to form. He looks at Simon, then at the girls’ faces, and realisation dawns.
“You’re messing with us.”
Felice shrugs, leaning forward and helping herself to the final strawberry with a grin. “Maybe just a little bit.”