Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Everything you feel is good, if you would only let you”

-Mitski 

Simon didn’t know it could be so hard to kiss someone when you can’t stop smiling. He could smell the sourdough on Wille’s breath and it tasted like a memory. Remnants of wine hid in Wille’s mouth; licking at his molars awakened a sensation of blood red warmth that rushed down Simon’s shaky limbs to his toes. 

The center of their lips met, barely, both stretched wide into dimpled cheeks that were beginning to ache with happiness. He wondered if Wille’s face was also starting to tire with glee, and he dug little circles with his thumbs into the tender spot below his cheekbones. Wille’s mouth fell open, chin tipping up and eyes closing. He exhaled through wet, chapped lips, arching his spine until his chest nudged subtly into Simon’s own. 

Simon hummed in response, nosing his way to the spot below Wille’s jaw where he loved to suck with his teeth until he pulled blood to the surface and a moan from Wille’s throat. The noise was grunted, soft and urgent and pained with need. 

A whispered, “Yeah,” fell softly in its wake. 

“Yeah,” Simon murmured in reply, pressing his forehead into Wille’s collarbone and sucking in a deep breath, shuddering on the exhale. 

He blinked, absentmindedly dipping a finger in the waistband of his own boxers on Wilhelm, which were now stretched taught, Wille’s erection pinned to his stomach by the elastic, the top of his dick peeking out and pointing up towards his belly button. Simon traced the head with the tip of his finger then smoothed his palm down the heaviness still trapped within the black fabric and Wilhelm twitched and whimpered.  

Simon rubbed his palm up and down a few times and Wille’s hand slid up into his curls, pressing his head harder into his shoulder. Simon’s mouth was dry and he swallowed around his tongue a few times, trying to coat the useless thing in saliva. He ran it along the inside of his lip, then drooled wetly against Wille’s collarbone before swiping his tongue in a long line up the protruding bone. Wille’s abs twitched and he jerked, curling in on himself.

Loud breathing, slow blinks, fingers dancing, squeezing gently, squeezing hard. 

Gentle kisses, harsh teeth on skin, harsh teeth on lips. 

Dizziness, spiraling shapes and colors and Simon’s soul fluttered around the room, free and happy. It flew carefully back into his heart, perching gently in his chest when Wille grabbed his hand and pressed his lips to the center of Simon’s palm. 

Simon’s fingers curled around Wille’s cheek as he continued mouthing at the soft, supple skin between the base of his thumb and the top of his wrist. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Simon whispered. 

Wille gave him a small hum with an even smaller nod. 

The room was quiet and Simon waited. 

Wille met his eyes, then turned his face away. Simon let his hand linger on Wille’s face and Wille leaned into the touch, his breathing slowing down. 

Simon waited, and Wille inhaled. 

“It’s been… I haven’t… um,” he whispered. 

There were words trapped in Wilhelm’s throat and Simon realized as he pressed a kiss to his sweaty hairline that he didn’t need to know exactly what they were. 

“You’re nervous?” He asked gently, and without waiting for a reply, nodded. “I’m nervous too,” he said simply, shrugging, and Wille made a sweet, grateful noise. 

“Is there anything I can do to make you less nervous?” He asked. 

Wille drew his arms up around Simon’s shoulders, squeezing so tightly it pushed the air out of his chest. 

Simon could feel furrowed brows pinching tight as Wille pressed his face against his warm cheek. 

An unintelligible whisper fell into the space and slipped through Simon’s fingers like wind. 

“What’s that?” Simon asked. 

“Just be patient,” Wille managed, and Simon didn’t know a whisper could carry so much strength. The tiny request floated over to him and he caught it with gentle hands, pressing his lips to Wille’s temple in three lingering kisses, so hard against the tender skin that he brought his hand to the other side of Wille’s head to hold him in place.

“There’s no pressure here,” he whispered. “Not from me.” 

Wille pulled back and Simon met his brown eyes, the weight of his gaze hitting him like a punch to his gut.   

“You?” Wille asked, quiet and earnest. “Can I do anything to make you feel less nervous?” 

One corner of Simon’s mouth twitched up. 

“Don’t you take that on, don’t worry about me,” he said. 

Wille shook his head as he pressed his own little grin up against Simon’s mouth. 

“Mmmm but it’s important,” he murmured before licking each of Simon’s lips and then pulling the top one into his mouth. 

Simon slid both hands up into Wille’s long hair and sighed, leaning his head all the way back to look at the ceiling, wondering if the walls could sense how different this was from all the other times their two bodies had collided in this space as Wille sucked at the base of his throat. 

Tongue drawn into a point; a thin wet line up the tendon of his neck. 

“It would make me less nervous if you would tell me how I can make you less nervous,” Wille smiled into Simon’s throat and Simon snorted. 

“Loser,” he said affectionately, and Wille’s bangs flopped into his face as he looked up at Simon with a smug look in his eyes. 

Simon huffed. 

“Ok, fine, let me think,” he said. 

Wille’s finger trailed distractingly around his face and he swallowed. 

“Just promise to tell me if you’re not feeling alright, or just like, things you want in general?” He said. 

Wille pursed his lips to the side. 

“I’ll try,” he said. “That’s, um, hard for me but, I’ll try,” he admitted. 

Simon’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering how Wille could be so comfortable whispering absolute filth into his ear in the middle of their studio but have such a hard time articulating his own needs. 

“Promise you’ll say if you’re not okay, Wille,” he begged. 

Wille glanced down, nodding. 

“I will,” he whispered. “I will.” 

He looked back up and his mouth twitched into a smile. Simon melted, his heart so painfully filled with affection he wondered if it might actually burst and splatter into pieces around the room. 

“Love you,” Wille whispered. 

“Oh fuck, Wille, I love you so much,” Simon replied, huffing out a laugh. 

They leaned in for a kiss at the same time, meeting in the middle. 

“So, fucking, much,” he said, punctuating each word with another kiss. 

Suddenly he was impatient, anticipatory giddiness fluttering under his skin, and he inched forward into Wille’s grip. Wille slid clumsily down the mattress, tugging Simon with him, and smushed sounds of laughter spilled into the room as they rolled around kissing. 

Simon felt like a teenager. The first time he kissed a boy, it was some kid on his soccer team who he had been making lingering eye contact with on the field for a few months before they finally ended up tumbling around in the grass behind the gym when Simon’s mom was late to pick him up one day. It was the first time Simon had felt someone’s mouth with his own, the first time someone pressed their hips into his, and he rolled over onto Wille, wresting his wrists onto the pillow beside his head and rolling his dick against Wille’s stomach. He pushed himself up and he felt a victorious shiver that this wasn’t some kid he wouldn’t end up talking to again after that season ended, but the love of his fucking life. He bent his elbows to draw Wille’s lip between his own and revel in this miracle he managed to find himself living in. 

Wille grunted into the kiss and bucked his hips up. Simon sat up, licking Wilhelm’s spit off the skin around his mouth. He perched happily across Wille’s torso, looking down at the beautiful sight in front of him. He rested his hands flat on Wille’s abs and just stared. 

Wille’s hair was splayed out on the pillow, soft and slightly greasy on top with how much Simon had been pulling at it. His arms were up, resting lazily by his head. His brown eyes were big and round and everything in them was so rare and special Simon was honored just to see it. 

Wille lifted his hands to rest on Simon’s thighs, thumbs moving in mesmerizing circles. 

“So, um,” Simon breathed. “How should we do this?” 

He was nervous, more nervous than he could remember being around Wilhelm in a very, very long time. Something was real, here, in a new way. And it was palpable, impossible to ignore. 

Wille was looking up at him with eyes made of glass, shiny round marbles reflecting the dim light of the room, refracting their love into something much larger. 

“Kiss me,” Wilhelm begged, and Simon did. 

For long minutes, they lost themselves. He forgot there was anything more coming until Wille bent his wrist around his thigh awkwardly, and Simon knew from the way he winced what he was trying to do. 

Simon kept kissing him and pushed him down, rendering Wille helpless under his weight, knees pressing in around his waist. 

“Hey,” Simon sighed, then kissed him again. And Wilhelm laughed, and Simon echoed the noise, and after a while Simon bit Wille’s cheek and sat up to get a better view. 

Wille was grinning lazily, flushed and gorgeous and Simon was smitten entirely. 

He touched Wille’s cheeks with careful fingertips, one slightly red from where he had just indented his teeth. 

“Hi,” Wilhelm answered. “How are you doing?” 

Simon wanted to laugh and cry and instead he kissed Wilhelm again, giggling into his mouth. 

He sat up a moment later. 

“How do you think I’m doing?” He laughed, feeling near delirious. Wilhelm looked up at him somewhat indulgently. 

“Good, I guess?” He answered after a minute. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Simon breathed out, giggling into Wille’s lips as he pinched his sides until Wille squirmed with laughter. 

“I guess,” he sighed into Wille’s hair, pressing his lips hard against Wille’s head. He heard Wille’s smile in his next exhale, and Wille pressed his lips up to the bit of Simon’s neck that he could reach. 

“Me too,” he whispered. 

Simon laughed and sat up again. 

“Good,” he answered down, stroking down Wille’s chest with both hands. He lowered himself down and they kissed again before Simon remembered why he sat up in the first place. 

“Um..” he trailed off. “Did you still want to,” Wille interrupted his question with a nod, and Simon swallowed. 

He glanced around for the lube and saw it had fallen to the floor. He shifted off the bed to grab it and turned back to Wille, who lay back with his legs together and his fingers laced across his chest, twitching and tapping nervously at his knuckles. 

“Can I, uh…” he moved down to sit. Wille pulled his legs up, knees still together, to make room for Simon on the lower half of the bed. Simon ran a hand through his curls, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“You good?” he asked, and Wille gave a jerky nod. He ran his hands down the front of Wille’s shin bones, crackling with nervous energy. Wilhelm seemed so shy and hesitant, and he wrapped his arms around both of Wille’s bent legs, resting his chin over his left knee. 

He squeezed his arms tight in a hug. 

“Love you,” he said, and Wille softened, unlacing his fingers and reaching out for Simon’s hand. 

Wille nodded, and Simon took it happily, a sufficient response. 

Wille reached for the waistband of Simon’s black briefs, closing his eyes as he slid them down, lifting his hips and moving them up his thighs. Simon blinked before he reached out to take over, pulling them the rest of the way off Wille’s legs. 

Eyes still on Wille’s face, he moved his palms to the top of Wille’s knees, pulling lightly to move them away from each other. Wille shifted his heels apart on the mattress, spreading his legs for Simon, and Simon’s eyes stared at his rising and falling chest. 

Wille pushed himself up on his elbows and nodded again, hair falling down in his face as he slowly let his legs fall open. 

Simon looked at Wille’s face then let his eyes trail slowly down his body. He looked between Wille’s spread legs, studying his curved cock and the shape of his balls and Wille’s hole, puckered and waiting and it was so fucking intimate his lungs stilled. 

Wille’s breath stuttered and he flopped onto his back, raising his hands up above his head and squeezing his eyes closed. The closest Simon had come to this was sucking Wille’s dick, but this felt new and significant. 

Here, Wilhelm was so vulnerable, laid out, torso stretched, hands fisted in the underside of his pillow. 

His legs were bent, knees wide to expose him entirely. He was so open, all for Simon to look at and touch and feel and he reached a trembling thumb to stroke at the very inside of Wille’s thighs, right near his hole. Wille made a needy little noise and Simon wanted to cry. 

Simon reached out for the lube and poured some on his fingers carefully. He looked down as he did so, trying to avoid spilling even though he knew Wille’s sheets were already filthy. He tentatively moved the tip of his cold, lubricated fingers against one of the few places on Wille’s body he had never touched. Wille flinched and quivered and Simon drew his eyes from the task at hand up his long, lean body to his face. 

Wille’s lip was drawn between his teeth and Simon sat up to press his other gentle hand to the center of Wille’s torso, pushing out a long exhale. 

He circled his fingers around Wille’s hole, and they stared into each other’s eyes as Simon started to press into Wille. Wille’s breath stuttered, his eyes falling closed immediately. Simon didn’t quite make it up to his first knuckle before he felt too much resistance to continue. Wille threw his head to the side and Simon studied his shifting jaw curiously. 

“Look at me,” he whispered. 

Wille twitched and inhaled and Simon increased the pressure on Wille’s stomach as a distraction. Wille strained his chin back, arching his neck and squirming before he managed to meet Simon’s gaze, blinking rapidly. Some of the tension drained out of his bones and Simon’s eyes darted around Wille’s face as he tried to push in. 

Wille’s body was tense, and Simon pushed harder. When he looked away, Simon’s heart shifted nervously. He tried again and Wille’s eyes closed tight, his mouth twisting in a wince. 

“Uh,” Simon said, trying not to let anxiety creep into his chest. “I can’t, um, it won’t go,” Simon said awkwardly. 

He could feel the friction tugging at his finger as he tried half-heartedly to force it, but Wilhelm wasn’t relaxed enough to let him in. 

Simon could tell. There had been times when he’d try to finger himself only to find his body wasn’t always ready to accommodate the intrusion. 

Wilhelm’s hole was rejecting his attempts and his eyes were closed tight. Simon felt uncertainty trickle down his spine. 

“Um,” Wille breathed. “It might be easier if like,” he pulled up one of his legs and started shifting his weight. Simon leaned back to make room and his breath caught as he watched Wille turn around and crawl onto all fours. 

“Oh,” Simon said, mouth going dry as Wille spread his knees, dropping to his elbows. 

His spine curved. 

Simon could feel his tongue in his mouth, lips chapped and dry from all the kissing, and he swallowed a few times. 

He had been in this position for Wille and seen other men like this, but this felt different. 

He lifted his hand to each out, then let it hover over Wilhelm’s bare skin. The air around them crackled with static and Simon was sure he’d feel an electric jolt shoot up his finger as soon as he made contact. 

“Wilhelm,” Simon whispered, awe licking at the inside of his rib cage like blue flames. 

Wilhelm made a shy sort of whimper into the pillow and Simon let his palm move down to Wille’s hip, resting it there to steady himself. Catlike, Wille leaned subtley into the touch and Simon brought his other hand up, stroking down the sides of Wilhelm’s hips to the long line of his thighs and back up. He studied the milky white, imperfect skin of Wille’s ass, brighter than his tanned torso and legs, untouched by even the sun. 

Simon dug his fingers in, searching for something like courage, then bent his arms, lowering himself to press a kiss to the expanse of skin, letting his open mouth suck gently, briefly, before pulling away. 

Wille’s body seized, muscles tensing. 

“Can I kiss you here?” He whispered, moving over a few inches to drop another kiss. 

Wille made a small noise and Simon swallowed, about to pull away when he saw Wilhelm nod into the pillow. 

“Yeah?” he said, moving his thumbs in tight circles on Wille’s hips, releasing some of the tension gathered there. 

Wille flung a hand back onto the mattress and Simon reached out to tangle his fingers around Wille’s own. 

Wille squeezed and warmth rushed up Simon’s arm and into his heart space and he exhaled. 

“I’ve never … you’re just …” Simon couldn’t think straight, looking at Wilhelm like this. He fumbled for coherency, dancing his other fingertips over the beautiful arch of Wille’s back.  “You’re so lovely,” he said, the word feeling silly on his tongue and sliding out in a whisper. 

Wille made another bashful noise and squeezed Simon’s hand again. He was so much quieter than usual, all little whimpers, his dirty mouth staying shut for once. Something lurched in the pit of Simon’s stomach as he wondered how difficult it was for Wilhelm to be like this, sacrificing his usual position of control. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as he gripped Wille’s fingers tightly then pulled his hand away to spread him wide open, revealing a smattering of dark hair protecting all the most vulnerable parts of him. 

He leaned down and pointed his tongue, tracing it from just above Wille’s hole up to the base of his spine. Wille’s body rocked forward and Simon gripped him tighter. He continued licking and biting, feeling the texture and cataloging the odd, new smells, noting Wille’s reactions. He twitched at gentle touches and softened at Simon digging his fingertips in hard. His breath caught when Simon licked everywhere while avoiding the sensitive rim, and he exhaled hard whenever Simon used his teeth. 

Finally, Simon took the pad of his thumb and brushed it across Wille’s entrance. 

The lube they used was mostly gone, so Simon spread him wide with both hands and leaned in close, letting a glob of spit fall from his mouth. Wille flinched and whimpered and Simon spread it around, stroking his perineum gently. 

“Oh,” Wille mumbled into his pillow, and the corner of Simon’s mouth twitched up. 

Wille seemed more relaxed now, soothed by Simon’s patience. 

“Can you hold yourself open for me?” Simon asked. 

Wille’s fist clenched in the sheet. 

He didn’t move and Simon swallowed down a nervous lump. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to,” he said, muffled, embarrassed, and Simon leaned down to kiss the lowest ridge of his spine. A hot stone of worry lodged itself in his stomach and he kept his lips pressed to Wilhelm’s skin as he murmured reassurance. 

“That’s totally fine, that’s okay,” he said, and Wilhelm nodded into the pillow. 

He scraped his teeth down the swell of Wille’s ass before reaching for the lube. He poured some on his fingers, then added more to Wille’s crease, letting it pool and drip down towards his balls. Smoothing it around thoroughly, he added some of his own spit to the mix, delirious with the intimacy of pressing something from his own body into Wilhelm’s body. 

“Can you take a deep breath?” He asked, realizing as he did so that his own breathing kept sticking in his chest with nervousness and wonderment. 

As he inhaled deeply Wilhelm did the same, and they both pushed out a long exhale. Gathering up his courage in big armfuls, Simon pressed a knuckle against Wille, trying to gauge the resistance before he tried to enter him again. 

“Again,” he whispered, and Wille breathed, relaxing against the blunt pressure. 

“Yeah, yes good,” Simon said, tremulously. He cleared his throat, searching for confidence. With a strong hand, he gripped one of Wille’s cheeks and pulled it to the side. Wille took in another long inhale, and on the exhale Simon pushed the tip of his middle finger in. 

“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” Simon whispered, and Wilhelm complied, murmuring quiet little nothings into his pillow with every exhale as Simon pressed his finger in, up to the first knuckle, up to the second. His finger was wet and he pulled it up to the tip before pushing it back in, getting some of the slick into Wille’s hole to ease the slide. Simon found himself stroking lightly with his other thumb around the sensitive skin, trying with everything in him to send safety into this trembling form. He pushed gently, watching Wille clutch around his finger. Awe curled from his stomach and filled him up like smoke. 

It still felt tight, too tight. 

He focused intently on Wille’s body, the way it moved, the way it breathed. He changed the pressure as he dragged a hand down Wille’s side, harder to see his ribs appear at the drag of friction, softer over the thin skin of his hips to watch how even the slightest brush of his calloused palm could bring forth a trail of goosebumps, hair standing on edge, an involuntary shiver. 

“You’re so..” he trailed off in a daze. “Fuck.” 

Wille whimpered, squeezing tightly around Simon’s first knuckle. 

Simon leaned down and kissed his skin again, resting his cheek against it and taking a breath. Wille keened, high and needy and Simon flushed just to hear it, taking note and refocusing his attention on opening Wille up. 

Wille was panting out breaths too quickly. Simon withdrew his hand to get more lube, and tried to nudge his ring finger in. Wille made a pained noise and Simon stopped moving, uncertainty washing through him. 

“Uh,” he said. 

Wille squirmed his hips like he was begging Simon not to withdraw his touch and Simon reached to smooth a reassuring hand over his belly. 

“Please,” Wille stuttered, and Simon hesitated. 

He pushed half-heartedly and Wille shook his head, eyes closed. 

“What do you need, baby, tell me,” he whispered, wrapping himself around Wilhelm’s body.  

Wille’s belly softened against his arm. 

“Less,” he swallowed. “Be less, less like.. gentle,” he said. 

Simon rested his cheek against Wille’s back, tightening his grip. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Simon whispered. 

“I, I want… You won’t, just,” Wille begged, shuffling an arm to layer his hand over where Simon was gripping his side. He slotted their fingers together then arched his knuckles to press his nails into the tender spaces between his rib cage. 

“Please,” he said, and Simon trusted him. 

Simon trusted him and he took a deep breath, squeezing Wille tight and slowly letting his own nails dig crescents between the ones Wille left himself. Wille whined in approval. 

“I trust you,” Simon said under his breath.

He sat up and nodded to himself. Less gentle. 

He gripped the cheek of Wille’s ass and plowed his fingers in hard at the same time, ignoring all resistance, and Wille’s back arched as he moaned. 

“Yeah, fuck,” he said, and Simon swallowed his heartbeat where it punched up towards his mouth, moving the second knuckles of his middle fingers in and out, feeling the muscle loosen around them. Wille seemed less tense, and Simon moved his fingers faster, eyes wide and heart nervous. 

“Please, Simon,” Wille wailed, and Simon had never heard his name sound like that coming from Wille’s mouth—keening and so fucking desperate as he rocked his hips back. It sent fire into his veins to have Wilhelm falling apart around his fingers. Some part of him was inside Wille, for the first time, and Wille was whining, so vulnerable in his neediness that Simon’s throat felt swollen. 

He thought of their earlier conversation, Wille admitting that he still got off on being marked up. So much had happened in the past few hours, and he needed a moment to breathe. He stilled his movements with his fingers as deep inside of Wilhelm as he could manage, then leaned down, mouthing across the wide planes of Wille’s back as he drew his other hand down his side. The smallest point of his waist arched so beautifully that he settled there, stroking over it with his fingers, pressing in until he found a tender spot just below where Wille’s rib cage ended. The faint slivers of the pink crescents from their nails still remained. He massaged in a small circle with his fingers, then dug a sharp nail into the soft indent. Wille pulled in an audible gasp and Simon twisted, crawling around so he could better reach this perfect place on the side of Wille’s body.  

He pressed a gentle kiss there, then swallowed hard. Wille gave the pillow a tiny whimper and Simon returned, two, three more times. 

He skirted his hand up and down Wille’s body, then dove in, sucking the skin into his mouth gently. Another soft, quick kiss, then he paused, licking his lips before returning to suck harder this time, feeling dizzy as Wille twisted and squirmed. He sank his teeth in, and Wille gave a wet gasp. 

He continued working over that spot, biting and sucking and licking and marking. He felt the way Wille’s skin stretched into his mouth at the suction of his lips, the freedom of pulling harder and harder with the goal to press evidence of his devotion into this hidden place, where no one would question Wille about it. He pictured Wille’s eyes fluttering in the shower as he scrubbed over it with a washcloth, slightly harder than necessary, pictured him walking with an arm across his stomach so he could poke at it surreptitiously. He bit down extra hard for a last few seconds, pulling off with a popping sound. 

He looked in satisfaction at his work. It was perfectly positioned where he could see it from the front and from the back, a strawberry red, uneven thing with faint teeth marks where Simon bit particularly hard. He scratched over the area with his fingertips and Wille sounded like he might cry, clenching suddenly around the fingers still inside of him that Simon had almost forgotten about, though his wrist was starting to twinge with the odd angle. He sat up again, repositioning himself stroking at the mark tenderly, unable to take his eyes off of it. “Yeah?” He asked, seeing how red and dark the mark was growing and praying he hadn’t gotten too carried away. 

“Fuck,” Wille muffled into the pillow, followed by some high, strange noise, and a nod that had Simon reaching up to stroke at the long strands of hair on the back of Wille’s head. 

He pulled out his hand to roll his wrist around and Wille rocked backward frantically, begging, “Simon, Simon!” 

“Shhh, shh, hey,” Simon quickly added. “Shh, hey, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he said, adding in first one finger and then the other. 

“Yeah, fuck,” Wille sighed. Simon also sighed, blinking down at Wille underneath him. 

“Can you… do you think I should add another finger?” Simon asked uncertainly, feeling kind of stupid and wishing he could read Wille’s body as easily as Wille seemed to be able to read his. 

“Mm,” Wille said neutrally. 

“Is that, is that a yes?” He asked, trying to shake off the twisting vine of insecurity that threatened to wind its way up his spine. 

Wille turned his head slightly so his cheek rested, hair flopping over his eyes, no longer smashing his whole face into the pillow. 

“Try,” he said in a little voice. “You can try,” he said. 

“Okay,” Simon said, trying not to feel small. “Can I, um,” he swallowed. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice breaking on the last word. 

Wille breathed out a little laugh, twisting his face. 

“Okay, I’m gonna pull out for a second,” he said, and Wille nodded, then sucked in a gasp when Simon actually did. 

He rolled over onto his side, and reached a hand behind himself, replacing Simon’s fingers with his own as Simon laid down next to him. 

“Jesus, baby,” Simon whispered at how desperate Wille was. 

“Just kiss me,” Wille said, and Simon nodded, relief making his eyelids droopy as he inched towards Wilhelm’s waiting lips. 

Gentle rhythm, like floating in the ocean on a calm day. The kissing slowed Simon’s uneven heart, and he reached down in between Wille’s legs from the front, nudging him to remove his finger so Simon could fill him up from this angle. 

Wille hummed into his mouth as he pressed in and Simon laughed into the kiss, pulling back a few centimeters to look incredulously into Wille’s warm, waiting gaze. 

Wille’s eyes crinkled with a smile and Simon bit the tip of his nose. 

“I love you,” he said, and Wille gave a lazy smile. 

“Mmhm,” he hummed, sounding smug.  

Simon moved his fingers around, scissoring them slightly, feeling deeply unsure that he could fit another. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you relax?” Simon asked, and to his surprise, Wille snorted with laughter. 

“What?” Simon asked, “what??” 

Wille turned to smash his face into the pillow, muttering something Simon couldn’t hear. 

With his free hand, he stroked the hair off of Wille’s forehead. 

Wille bit back a smile as he blinked at Simon. 

“I have… I have poppers,” he said, and Simon lit up with a giggle. 

“Oh my god, Wille,” he said, shaking his head, terribly endeared. 

“I mean, you asked,” Wilhelm said. 

“That’s true I did ask,” He snorted. “And hey, they do help you relax,” 

They looked at each other for a second, until Wille leaned in and kissed Simon. 

Simon started laughing against sweet Wille’s lips. 

“So, are you gonna do poppers?” He asked. 

Wille shrugged adorably. 

“I mean,” he said. “It does help,” he said, sounding a little shy suddenly. 

“You don’t have to, like, we don’t have to do everything tonight,” Simon said. 

“No, I want, I want, I,” he closed his eyes. “I want you inside me,” he whispered. 

Simon’s throat closed. 

“Mmhmm,” he said, feeling faint. “Yeah,” he breathed. 

They made eye contact again and both smiled. 

“Where,” Simon asked, and Wille jerked his head towards the nightstand. 

“I’ll get them,” Simon said, and Wille pouted, eyebrows furrowing as Simon withdrew. 

“Jesus you’re needy, I’ll literally be right back,” he said, rolling his eyes and kissing Wille again. 

He crawled over to the nightstand, reaching for the drawer, his eyes falling on the glass of water. He took it and drank, his parched throat instantly soothed as he gulped down half the glass. 

“Want some?” He offered Wille, and turned to see Wille’s lip clenched hard between his teeth as he pressed in his own finger, eyes closed. 

“Fucking hell,” he swore gently, eyes wide at the sight. 

Wille squirmed, settled, then blinked, looking over at him. 

“Hm?” he asked, looking halfway gone already. Simon tried to ignore the restless shifting of Wille’s body, his mind going blank. 

“Uh,” Simon looked down at his hand. “Water, uh, do you want some?” he said and Wille blinked slowly. 

“Oh. Mmhmm,” he said, then pulled his hand back around, propping himself up on his elbows before shuffling back against the headboard. 

He exhaled wearily and drank the water Simon handed him. 

Simon somehow dragged his eyes back to the drawer, where he pawed through an extra phone charger, some condoms, and Aesop hand cream before he spotted the tiny brown glass vial. 

“Fuckin Aesop hand cream, I cannot stand your bougie ass,” he said, rolling his eyes as he grasped the poppers in his palm and shoved the drawer closed.  

When he rolled back around Wille was setting down the empty glass on the other nightstand, smirking at Simon. 

“You love me,” he said, and Simon nodded. 

“Unfortunately this is true,” he replied drily, and Wille’s sweet, easy grin draped itself across his face. 

“You find em?” he asked, and Simon nodded, holding up the little bottle. 

“This shit’s terrible for you, you know?” he said, and Wille nodded. 

“Yeah, I know. You want some?” he asked, and Simon grinned. 

“Yeah,” he said, crawling over to straddle Wille’s lap. 

Wilhelm’s big hands landed on his hips and Simon’s tongue poked through his lips as he fiddled with twisting the lid off. 

He looked up to meet Wilhelm’s eyes and mirth sparkled around them like snowflakes in the beam of a lamppost.  

Wille’s crooked front teeth were fully on show and Simon leaned in close. When Wille raised a hand to pinch his nostril closed with a pinky, Simon smelled the filth of sex in the air and he wanted to drown in it. 

He held the bottle up to Wille’s open nostril and Wille inhaled deeply. 

Simon watched Wille’s closed eyes and counted to five before pulling the bottle away and holding it up under his own nose. He pushed his nostril closed with his index finger and inhaled the heady fumes from the small bottle. 

By the time he pulled back and screwed the lid back on the bottle Wilhelm’s cheeks were bright red and bursting with laughter. They both snickered as Simon felt the rush catch up with him a few seconds later, all his blood vessels expanding and contracting as joy erupted through his mouth and he pressed it to Wilhelm’s—his whole body was bright, was burning, was laughing, was singing and he floated along the rush of the high, feeling it peak as his cheeks burned and his head filled with light. 

They were laughing too hard to kiss and Wille drew both palms down Simon’s chest, reveling in the heightened feelings of their bodies sparking at each point of contact. 

Wille leaned his head back against the headboard, dark cheeks, dark eyes, blood flooding through his body in a thick rush. 

“You look like a dream,” Simon whispered, staring in awe through a pink haze of adoration. 

Wille licked his lips slowly, blinking back at Simon and looking absolutely fucked. 

The tingling adrenaline dancing under his skin bubbled up like courage through his throat. 

“I wanna be inside you,” he said, making heavy eye contact. 

Wille nodded. 

“Want that,” he lips moved, the words nearly inaudible. 

The atmosphere shifted as their eyes locked, bright giggles simmering into a fog of lust that made something in Simon’s belly stretch thin with want. 

Simon swallowed and nodded, passing the bottle of poppers to Wille and scooting back. 

Wille moved his hips down the bed, planting his feet so his knees were bent, legs spread wide. 

“Fuck, you look so fucking hot like this,” Simon whispered. 

Wille propped himself up on his elbows, holding the poppers in one hand. 

“Put your fingers in me,” he whispered, throwing a glance at Simon that hit him like a punch in the gut, unraveling something wound tight within him. 

“Fuck, yes, Wille,” he mumbled, tongue heavy in his mouth as he smoothed his hands across the inside of Wille’s thighs. His skin was sticky in places and Simon wanted to have Wille messy and gross with him forever, see him without his dignity and love him all the more fiercely in its absence. 

He got more lube and Wille hissed as some of it rolled from his hole down towards the mattress. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Simon muttered, swiping it up with his index finger and using it to insistently push his way back inside. 

Wille groaned and Simon’s heart beat faster and faster inside his chest as he pumped it quickly in and out before working a second finger in. 

“Yeah, fuck, yeah, fuck,” Wille said, his body inching down against Simon’s hand. 

Simon watched Wille fumble with the cap of the poppers. 

“You ready?” he whispered, and Wille nodded. 

He watched as Wille inhaled deeply, and milliseconds later felt him start to loosen. He moaned and Simon’s heart pounded as he worked a third finger inside, feeling the tension gripping at his fingers lessen as Wille’s body reacted to the relaxant. 

Wille was making beautiful noises and Simon felt pride nestle itself quietly in his chest as he railed Wille with his fingers. 

“Ready, Simon, ‘m ready,” he whimpered. 

“Yeah?” Simon asked, scissoring and pushing all the way in. 

“Mmhmm,” Wille breathed out. 

Simon stilled his movements and looked up at Wille, holding still until Wille looked down at him. 

“Fucking Christ you look gorgeous,” Simon muttered, unable to help himself. Wille was a mess, skin around his lips red, hair limp, eyes hooded and dark. 

“Thank you,” Wille whispered sweetly, and Simon almost rolled his eyes, instead biting back a smile. 

There was a moment of quiet between them, then Wille chewed on his lip, looking to the side. 

“Um,” he tried, eyes falling closed as Simon adjusted his wrist. 

Simon wrapped his other arm to hug Wilhelm’s thigh, pressing his torso up close and breathing into it the embrace. He rested his curls on Wille’s knee, studying Wille’s face as he rhythmically moved his fingers. 

Wille wiggled around, hips searching to meet Simon’s fingers as they thrust into him. 

His eyes were closed, neck stretched and curved back, revealing the pulsing underside of his jaw. 

Simon turned his face and kissed Wille’s knee before curiosity overtook him and he ran his tongue along the curve of the bone, feeling the hair against the tip of his tongue. He opened his mouth, scraping with his teeth, just wanting to know how any part, every part of Wille’s body felt against his mouth. It felt almost primal, the way he wanted to lay Wilhelm down and cover every inch of skin with himself, his hands, his lips, tongue, teeth. 

Wille was whimpering, leg twitching in Simon’s strong grip, and Simon turned his cheek to rest against Wille’s knee, now wet with his spit. 

Their eyes met and they shared a breath. 

“Faster,” Wille whispered, eyes falling closed. 

Simon obliged him in wondrous awe. 

Wille moved around and clutched at Simon’s arm with his fingernails and sighed little sighs and moaned little moans and finally he was able to feel comfortable moving all three fingers in and out, spreading them apart while still inside him to stretch him open wide. 

“Mmm, fuck, Simon, I’m ready,” he repeated and Simon nodded, slowing down his movements and waiting for Wille to make eye contact. 

They stared at each other with uncertainty for a moment before Wille looked to the side. 

“Um,” the circle in his throat traveled up and down, and Simon watched. 

Wille took in a slow, slow, slow breath. 

Simon melted like a popsicle. It was so quintessential. 

It was days at the studio, when they’d stand in the warm shade outside and smoke a joint, and after the first hit Wilhelm would suck in a long, long breath, down to his toes. It was the time Simon was sitting on the counter on his phone and glanced over to find Wilhelm stirring the pasta, and watched his chest rise in a terribly sustained, gentle movement. It was coming into the studio to see Wille sitting in his chair with his neck arched, chin pointing toward the ceiling as he sucked in air. Then the wave would recede, he would deflate, and his shoulders landed a little lower by the time the exhale ended. 

And now the bare skin of his chest arched up towards Simon’s hand, and Simon caught him, gratefully. He felt his palm lower with Wille’s trembling exhale. 

Simon’s chest splintered a little as he watched calm settle the scrunch of Wille’s eyebrows. 

Slowly, Wille’s eyes fluttered back open. 

They stared at each other for a long time, neither one moving. 

“How do you want me?” Wilhelm asked, the words falling out quiet and vulnerable. He barely met Simon’s eyes before he glanced away. Simon swallowed. He wasn’t used to this Wilhelm, shy and uncertain. He wasn’t used to making decisions and he felt honored at how deeply Wille must trust him to let his guard down like this. 

“How about..” Simon pulled his fingers out slowly, holding his breath as he watched Wille’s face for discomfort. 

He crawled up the bed to the headboard, grabbing a few pillows and situating them behind his back. 

He stretched his legs in front of him and gestured vaguely to his lap, searching for some sort of reaction. 

Wille’s eyebrows knit together as he nodded, and Simon wanted to kiss the spot where the skin furrowed. 

“Wanna see you,” Simon explained. “And this way you can… go at your own pace,” he added. “Is that, is that okay?” 

Wilhelm nodded again. “Yeah,” he whispered. 

“Hey, come here,” Simon said, placing a hand on Wille’s cheek and leaning in to kiss him. 

“You okay?” his lips brushed Wille’s temple. 

Wille sucked in a breath, shuddering under Simon’s hand splayed between his shoulder blades. 

“Nervous,” Wille admitted under his breath. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Simon said quickly, and Wille’s hair flopped as he shook his head. 

“No, want.. want this. Want you,” he said, pulling back to make eye contact. 

“Okay,” Simon said, smoothing Wille’s hair off his face with both hands. “Okay,” he repeated, leaning forward to press his lips to Wille’s forehead. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, and Wille nodded. 

“You’re here,” he confirmed, and Simon’s heart twisted. 

“Yeah,” he said. Wille nodded. 

“Okay,” he whispered. He swallowed once more, then began maneuvering himself to straddle Simon’s lap. Simon placed his hands on Wille’s waist, guiding him gently. Wille settled himself on Simon’s thighs, then reached for the lube, drizzling some on his palm before wrapping it around Simon’s dick, sure and swift with all his usual confidence and Simon’s head knocked against the headboard, his breath quickening at Wille’s practiced movements. His chest rose and fell, and he bit his lip. Wilhelm’s other hand settled on his jaw, his thumb tugging at Simon’s lip before leaning in to kiss him. 

“Fuck,” Simon mumbled into Wille‘s mouth, hips bucking up against Wille’s weight. 

He slid his hands down to Wille’s ass, spreading him open and sneaking a finger inside him to check that he was stretched. 

Wilhelm made a tiny, aborted noise at the top of his throat and Simon kissed his cheek, hard. 

“You ready?” Simon asked. Wille nodded, adjusting so his knees pointed toward the ceiling. Wilhelm’s eyes were closed and he placed his hands on Simon’s shoulders, raising himself up. Simon held his dick in one hand, his other guiding Wilhelm’s body until they were aligned. 

“Take your time,” he whispered, resting his hand lightly on Wille’s waist. 

Wilhelm’s fingers dug into his shoulders and his thighs clenched at the effort to hold himself up. He sank down over Simon’s tip, agonizingly slow, and Simon swallowed a groan. 

He studied the bottom of Wilhelm’s clenched jaw, the view he had whenever Wille stood very close to him and he suddenly felt very aware that Wille was tall. 

Wilhelm was biting his lip, eyes squeezed closed as he stayed where he was. His face was twisted up into a grimace. 

Simon tried not to moan pathetically and clamped his teeth down on his own lip. 

“Fuck,” Wille said, rising up to sit on his knees again. He reached for the poppers and Simon couldn’t help but snort. 

“Shut up,” Wille said, smacking Simon’s chest with the back of his hand. 

“I said nothing!” Simon protested and Wille rolled his eyes, taking an inhale from the little brown bottle. 

He held the open bottle out to Simon, who shook his head. 

“I’m good,” he said quietly, and Wille nodded as Simon took it and spun the lid back on. Wille’s cheeks turned pink, darker and darker.

He readjusted himself on Simon’s lap and sank slowly, slowly, slowly further down, his mouth wide open as his lower lip trembled. He stuttered halfway down and Simon dug his hands into Wille’s waist. 

Wille hissed loudly and Simon belatedly remembered the mark he’d left. 

“Shit, sorry,” he said, but Wille just let out a moan as he managed to take all of Simon in. 

“You and your pain kink,” Simon shook his head, smiling as he let his fingernails press into the mark, and Wille reached out to twist Simon’s nipple. 

“Like you’re any better,” he replied, voice strained. Simon tilted his head in concession, smile faltering as Wille clenched around him. 

“Fuck,” Wilhelm stuttered, finally settling in. Simon felt his hips cradling the skin of Wilhelm’s ass, and he jostled his legs up, planting his feet so his thighs supported Wilhelm’s back. 

Wille’s breaths were quick, and Simon planted a hand on Wilhelm’s chest, over his heart. It was pounding, loud and fast, and Simon couldn’t help himself from sliding his arms to encircle Wilhelm in a tight hug, pressing every inch of his body up against Wille, who reacted by whimpering, holding himself still as he gripped Simon so tightly. 

It was the kind of hug they shared before they parted ways for the holidays, or on the rare days he could tell Simon was upset, and even if they didn’t talk about it, he would squeeze all the air out of him, and Simon would exhale, heavily, entirely for the first time in hours, and Wilhelm wouldn’t let go until he had taken a few more steady breaths. 

They clutched onto each other and Simon ignored the way his dick was twitching, needing more than anything to hold Wilhelm within his grasp and never let him go. 

He felt his throat tighten as Wille burrowed down into Simon’s neck, mouth open as he breathed hot, wet air onto his skin, pressing his face hard into Simon’s shoulder. 

Wilhelm shuddered and Simon couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his mouth, trailing out into a whimper. 

“Fuck,” he said, unable to stop his hips from pressing up closer into the tight warmth of Wilhelm around him. He hummed again, loud and reedy, trying to not black out at the intensity of the moment. His mouth fell open and his eyes were closed and he breathed quickly, unevenly. 

“Can,” his voice was pained, desperate. “Can you move?” he begged. 

Wilhelm nodded into the crook of his neck, his arms unwrapping from Simon’s waist and sliding back up to his shoulders. He rose up a few inches and sank back down. 

“Oh god, oh god,” Simon said, head knocking back, so overwhelmed he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, fuck, Wilhelm, fuck, Wilhelm,” he babbled, and Wille moved his hips in a small circle. Simon’s fingers dug tightly into his waist and he moaned, biting at Wille’s collar bone. He tried to help lift Wilhelm’s hips but he couldn’t focus beyond the white fog of pleasure blocking out every feeling except warm and wet and tight and clenching and moving and Simon couldn’t believe that anything in the world could feel this fucking incredible. 

Wille was breathing heavily and it was the sexiest thing Simon had ever heard, because he knew Wilhelm, knew every sound that came from his lips. He had seen him breathing this hard only once before, when Wilhelm came into the studio on one of the first warm days of the spring, sweat sticking his shirt to his chest in a wet, dark spot from the middle of his neckline, panting from the effort of finishing off his run with a sprint. 

Wilhelm’s eyes were still squeezed closed tightly, his head tilted back, his mouth open, his breathing so deep and heavy and loud, a vision of ecstasy, a saint overtaken with the divine, the heaving gasps a chorus of angels. 

He lost himself each time Wilhelm rose up. 

He found himself every time Wilhelm sank back down. 

They were connected as closely as physically possible, over and over at an increasingly rapid pace. Wilhelm gained confidence in his movements, the repetition, finding a rhythm that allowed him to move faster and Simon cycled through awe and shock, his whole body hurtling through something that felt a lot like fire. 

His face contorted in pleasure as he urged his body to meet Wilhelm, to push their bodies closer closer closer closer closer, faster, faster, faster, and he reached both hands up to grip Wilhelm’s head, trying to pull Wilhelm’s gaze away from the ceiling down to his own face. 

The top of Wille’s face was taut, muscles working to hold his eyes closed. 

“Look at me,” Simon pleaded, unable to see Wilhelm’s eyes squeezed so tight. “Wanna see you please, wanna see you,” he added when Wilhelm still didn’t open his eyes. Wilhelm slowed his pace slightly, but continued riding Simon as he took in a deep breath. Simon’s thumbs rubbed back and forth Wille’s cheeks in supplication.

“Wille,” he whispered. And at that, Wille’s eyes blinked open, his wide and wild gaze throwing itself onto Simon full force. He was reminded of a time when he was driving down a rural road late at night. A deer leapt into the road and he barely managed to slam on the brakes, flinging him hard into his seatbelt. 

The deer’s eyes, huge and round and brown, stared directly at him. He saw every emotion he had ever felt reflected in that frightened, honest gaze, and his heart leapt into his throat like he was the one who had almost been splattered against the pavement. 

Here again: Wille the deer, his own eyes the shining headlights. 

Wille seemed… overwhelmed. There was so much in his eyes that Simon had never seen before—fear alongside courage, vulnerability written into the small crease between his eyebrows. 

“Are you good? Does this.. does this feel good?” Simon whispered. 

Wille looked away as he nodded. Simon knew he wasn’t as big as Wille, but with how difficult it had been to open him up, he wasn’t as self conscious about it as he’d worried he might be. 

“Mmhmm,” Wille added, and Simon just wanted to keep making him feel good. 

He looked down, letting his hand trail down Wille’s stomach, surprised and a little concerned as he saw that Wille’s dick was shrunk and soft, the way it looked when Simon woke up in the early hours of the morning to see Wille all spread out on his back, snoring lightly. 

He took it in his hand, looking up at Wille’s face and trying not to worry. 

Wille made a noise at the back of his throat—of pleasure or protest, Simon wasn’t sure. 

“Are you… do you wanna stop?” he said, pumping his hand slowly. 

“No, no, I.. I don’t want…” he hid his face in Simon’s shoulder and Simon kissed his hair, back of his neck starting to burn. 

He leaned back, reaching under Wille’s chin and tilting his head up. 

“Don’t want what?” he asked desperately. 

Wille’s eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at Simon’s hand. 

“Don’t stop, please,” Wilhelm said, meeting Simon’s eyes briefly. 

“Okay,” Simon said, inching his hips up. “But, um,” he said, squeezing his hand a bit and thumbing over the head of Wille’s dick, marveling at how different it felt, almost shocked at how much easier it fit in his hand. 

Wille made the same, ambiguous noise. 

“Don’t stop, just, um,” He reached for Simon’s hand, pulling it away from his dick and placing it on his waist. 

“Not, just..” his voice was so fragile. “Not right there.. right now,” he whispered. 

“Okay,” Simon said, rubbing a thumb back and forth over the splotchy mark. It was darker now, starting to turn violet in places. 

“But you’re, you’re okay? Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, watching his own hand, too shy to check if Wille was looking at him. 

“Yes, yeah, please don’t stop,” Wille said, and he winced as he pushed himself up and back down, trying to get back into a rhythm. His chest was flooded with pink embarrassment. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“Hey, Wille no, it happens I just,” he watched his thumb swipe back and forth over the intoxicating marvel of a bruise blooming under the skin. The tiny red dots of the hickey looked like a field of poppies. He thought about the way Wille’s body was reacting to the aftermath of his teeth marring his flesh, and his stomach dropped low, a heavy pressure against all the places his body knew pleasure. He shifted up, closer, deeper. 

“I just wanna know you’re okay,” he said gently. “I want you to feel okay.” 

He finally chanced a glance up at Wilhelm and jerked his hips again unwittingly. 

“I want.. I want to feel okay,” he said, and Simon’s heart melted. “I’m okay,” he said, leaning in to kiss Simon. 

Simon trusted him. 

Simon kissed him. 

But as their lips met, Simon couldn’t shake a prickle of concern. 

He placed a hand over Wille’s chest and felt the quick patter leaping to meet his warm palm. 

“Do you… would you wanna maybe smoke?” he asked.  

Wille nodded, big brown eyes meeting Simon’s. 

“That sounds nice,” he said. “I think I have a pre-roll somewhere in the back of that drawer.” 

Simon snorted. 

“Got any other drugs in there?” He teased. 

Wille rolled his eyes. 

Simon bit his shoulder as Wille leaned over to reach into the drawer, long arms managing to slide into the finding a small box in the back with an ashtray, a lighter, and a couple plastic tubes. He popped one open and slid out a joint. 

“Damn, you’re prepared,” Simon observed. 

Wille shrugged. 

“Can’t sleep, a lot of times,” he admitted. “Weed helps.” 

He chewed the inside of his cheek and Simon was once again struck at how much he didn’t know about this man, overwhelmed by the berth of information he’d been gifted with tonight. 

He pictured Wille tossing and turning into the early hours of the morning, contemplatively pulling from a joint in an attempt to quiet whatever thoughts plagued his pretty little mind, and was overcome with a wave of tenderness. He pressed a kiss to the round ball of Wille’s shoulder, mouthing at it gently as he processed this information. 

Wille clicked the lighter, twisting the end of the joint in a careful circle in the flame to ensure it’d burn evenly, then flipped it around and held it up to Simon’s lips. 

Simon took it, allowing Wille to hold it for him and inhaling when Wille touched the orange flicker to the tip. 

It caught aflame and Wille pulled it from Simon’s mouth, puffing air out to extinguish it before returning it to Simon’s mouth, letting him suck in a long, even pull. Simon exhaled, blowing the smoke at Wilhelm’s face and smiling as Wille squinted and squirmed. 

Simon reached for the joint and carefully held it up to Wille’s mouth. 

He liked this, them holding the joint for each other. Their bodies were connected; their bodies were one being. He held it to Wille’s mouth, which was his own mouth, and Wille exhaled smoke that Simon leaned forward to take into his lungs, which were Wille’s lungs, filled up with the same smoke and he felt dizzy at the endless ways they were intertwining not only their bodies, but their breath, their hearts, their souls. He exhaled the recycled smoke to the ceiling and Wille’s mouth pressed to his throat, an undertone of desperation in the sharp, sudden suction. 

Simon hummed something high pitched and fluttery as he reached the joint up to his lips while Wille moved half an inch over, attaching his lips again and again and again as Simon’s eyes closed, euphoria flooding into his bones and blood, whispering its way down to the tips of his toes. 

He already felt so terribly alive and the weed lifted all the prickles of doubt that had accumulated as they explored this new arrangement. Freedom lit fires at the places they touched; he grounded himself with five blunt nails curling into Wille’s solid body. Wille took the joint and closed his eyes as he pressed two fingers to his lips, holding it loosely in his pretty pink mouth. 

The smoke curled from the end of the joint in entrancing, shifting swirls, followed by thinner smoke from Wille’s mouth. 

Simon took the joint and Wille took the opportunity to place one hand back on Simon’s thigh, leveraging his weight up and sinking back down over Simon’s dick. 

Simon half-choked on his inhale, coughing out smoke into his elbow. 

“Give a man a warning,” he wheezed as Wille laughed at him, light and loose and clearly already more relaxed. 

Wille’s bright eyes shined at him, teeth on show. 

Simon’s eyes were watering with residual coughs and he shook his head, reaching out to touch the spit slick indent between Wille’s crooked front teeth 

“Menace, that’s what you are,” he managed, looking away to tap the soft grey fluff threatening to drop between their bodies into the ashtray. 

Wille suddenly sucked down Simon’s entire finger, lips pursed wet and warm, all the way up to his knuckles. 

It was filthy and playful and fucking everything and Simon’s body filled with pressure as he watched Wille hoist his body up and down on his cock while suckling at his finger, laughter in his eyes and roses in his cheeks. Simon blinked rapidly, absentmindedly pulling in another hit of the joint as he just … stared. 

He looked and looked and looked and the atmosphere darkened like a fancy restaurant after 6 pm, all the lights suddenly plunging toward something golden as honey. 

The smile tugging at Wille’s lips collapsed slowly as Simon’s eyes lingered on the sight of them wrapped around his finger. He slowed down, taking his time and meeting Simon’s eyes as he drooled, letting his tongue go loose for Simon to prod at, letting his mouth slacken until spit dripped from the corner. Simon wiped it all around his lips and chin, dipping back into Wille’s mouth for more, stroking his tongue with three fingers and getting his face slick and wet and dirty and grinding up desperately because Wille was just letting him. 

Wille’s eyes fell closed and suddenly Simon understood prayer. 

Thank you, he wanted to say, on his knees, eyes clasped and head bowed. Thank you for letting me see you this way, letting me have you like this. 

He wanted his hands all over Wille’s skin, shining and sticky, and he looked down to the joint in his hand. 

“I’m good, do you want more?” he asked, near breathless. 

Wille opened his eyes and pulled off of Simon’s finger. He nodded, reaching up for the joint but Simon shook his head. 

“I wanna hold it for you,” he said. 

Wille’s lips parted and Simon held it carefully between his thumb and forefinger. 

Wille’s neck strained to meet him and Simon wanted to memorize the way Wille’s parted lips looked reaching for his fingers. Wille took in a deep, deep breath, and Simon rested his other hand on Wille’s chest, fingers wide, cold and wet with Wille’s spit. 

Wille held it all in his lungs for a glorious moment, then pushed it out, powerful and sure and Simon just wanted to look at this man forever. 

He took the joint from Simon, pulling in one final hit as he leaned over to rest it in the ashtray, thin smoke ribbon stubbornly winding up from the dwindling embers glowing at the tip.

Simon ran his hands all over Wille’s body, throat still tight, desperation creeping up in a sharp pinch. 

“Wille, Wille, Wille,” he murmured, and Wille giggled. 

“That’s my name,” he said, then: “Simon, Simon, Simon,” fell out in a whisper. 

“You’re everything,” Simon whispered, “Everything,” and he leaned in to press his lips up against Wille’s, tasting weed, both their mouths dry from the smoke. 

The kiss held them both, returning them to each other and to themselves, to their shared history, to all the times they’d felt each other’s mouths, and neither of them pulled away, losing themselves for long minutes as Wille shifted half-heartedly around, far more concerned with pressing their lips as close as possible. 

After a long while, Wille leaned down to nuzzle into Simon’s neck, digging his fingers in and starting to work his hips up and down more. He could feel Wille’s eyes closed tight, hot breaths from his open mouth against his skin. 

He felt dizzy with how much love filled his veins. 

Wille let out a noise, something small and pathetic. 

“What are you thinking?” Simon asked, running his hands up and down Wilhelm’s hips as he continued moving, clenching slightly. 

Simon let out a gasp, still intoxicated from the feeling of Wilhelm around him for the first time. 

Wilhelm raised his head and opened his mouth like he knew what he wanted to say, but the words were stuck somewhere in the base of his stomach, sitting stubbornly like dogs refusing to come when they’re called. Simon squeezed Wille’s hips then dug his nails in sharply as if he could claw the words out from inside of him. 

Wille tipped his throat back and blew air towards the ceiling. His shoulders lifted with an inhale before he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He lowered his face back down, but his eyes stayed closed as he brought his hands to Simon’s face, trembling fingertips landing on the hard bone below his eye, thumbs smoothing down his nose, mapping out his features so carefully. 

Simon stayed still as he could, unmoving as dainty, sticky fingertips drifted softly over his face. 

“You’re not him,” Wille breathed out so delicately that Simon thought he might faint. 

“No,” he whispered, heart shattering like a glass chandelier spilling crystals onto the floor of a ballroom in a crash. He nuzzled into Wille’s touch, then lifted a hand to the back of Wille’s neck. Like bringing a magnet to click into place, he pulled Wilhelm in for a gentle kiss. Their lips pressed together, then parted with a small noise.  

“No, I’m not him,” he said, pulling back and rubbing Wille’s neck with his thumb. 

Wille blinked his eyes open and allowed them to focus on Simon. Simon found himself almost afraid to return the gaze. He was terrified at how seen he felt, how whole he was, here in the arms of the man he loved, being trusted to take him apart and hold the pieces together in his arms. 

Wille was slick and tight around him and his hands dug into Simon’s body with a determined ferocity that warmed his blood. Simon pressed his palms into the mattress to leverage his hips to meet Wille’s body and Wille pressed vicious fingertips into his slender shoulders, thumbs finding a home in the hollow beneath Simon’s collar bones. 

Simon’s mouth fell open uselessly and Wille hovered close. They locked gazes, four brown eyes softly linked with trust and vulnerability as the noises of their bodies spilled into the room, skin against skin, throaty exhales and whimpering inhales. Wille gripped his hand around Simon’s jaw, his fingers and thumb pressing hard into his cheeks until his lips pursed, using the too-tight grip to keep their gazes locked as their bodies moved. They looked each other in the eye, too lost in everything to even kiss, only able to pant overwhelmed breaths into each other’s open mouths and look and look and look into each other’s faces as their bodies moved like waves crashing onto the shore, curling dancing forceful collisions, over and over and over. 

They stared hard and long and it was so painfully earnest that Simon was terrified to look away, wanting to live in this miracle forever. The entire world could have stopped spinning on its axis and Simon wouldn’t have been able to tear his gaze away from Wilhelm’s face. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Wilhelm moaned, like he hadn’t even meant to say it. Simon clutched at Wilhelm’s back, digging his fingernails in tightly, wanting to crawl inside of Wilhelm’s body and make a home there, wanting to tear him open and see what was inside, hold each organ in his hands, wonder at every single cell, every atom that made up this marvel of a boy above him. 

“Fuck,” Simon said as Wille’s movements stuttered into something slow and sloppy. 

Wille’s thighs were starting to shake, and Simon didn’t want him to have to work so hard. 

“Hey, Wille,” he said, nudging at Wille’s body with a heavy palm at his waist. “Can we..?”

“Can we, can you get on your back?” he stuttered out. He felt a prickle of insecurity itch at his neck. Whenever Wille was fucking him he didn’t have to ask Simon to change positions—he just grabbed Simon’s body with his big hands and spun him around like a rag doll. It was hot, and efficient, and Simon loved it. But he couldn’t—Wille was taller and stronger and Simon didn’t have the confidence to try such a thing. But he couldn’t overthink it because Wille’s body, tense with the effort of chasing pleasure, softened beneath his hands, entirely pliant, allowing Simon to push him over to lie on his back in the middle of the bed. 

Wille made a wounded little sound when Simon slipped out, but Simon crawled over him quickly, settling between his legs and rubbing up and down Wille’s torso with both hands, the way he was always tempted to touch the Ancient Greek sculptures at the Met, wanting to feel the cool marble bodies beneath his hands. 

This was better than that. This was life, breathing warmth rising and falling, blood rushing to press up against the skin of Wille’s neck and chest, Simon spread his fingers wide to feel the pink stained heat. 

“Please, Simon,” Wille whimpered, and Simon refocused, sliding his hands down to Wille’s hips. He allowed himself a moment to skim his thumbs up and down Wille’s hip bones, mouth watering at the way the muscles below them carved a V. He stared at Wille’s leaking cock, dark and flushed and Wille’s body twitched against his hands as he whined. Simon pushed him into the mattress instinctively and Wille made another pained, high-pitched sound. 

“Simon, please,” he breathed, sounding on the verge of tears. 

Simon lined himself back up and skimmed a hand up the back of one of Wilhelm’s thighs. One of Wilhelm’s legs remained stretched out, long and lean against the green duvet, and Simon firmly lifted the other until it bent beneath his grasp, directing it down until it pushed against Wille’s chest. 

Wilhelm let out a strange, breathy sort of noise, something Simon had never heard from him before, and he lunged forward to kiss the sound as it drifted off of Wille’s lips. Wilhelm shuddered underneath him again and Simon kissed him harder. Another indescribable sound floated from Wille’s mouth like a feather tickling the skin of his cheek, and he kissed between Wille’s collarbones, clutching his hand around Wille’s side and he leaned his whole body into the pressure as he reentered Wilhelm, who screwed up his face again. 

Simon pushed inside him and watched carefully as a twinge of pain creased his expression, but with a shaking breath, Wille let him in, miraculously. 

Simon leaned up to kiss him once more, drunk on the sensation of no longer counting the minutes, not having to wonder when they would get to be this close again. Delight filled up his heart at the feeling of Wille’s lips making his own tingle and spark and melt and Wille clenched tightly around Simon’s dick. 

Simon pulled away from his mouth reluctantly, letting Wille’s lower lip drag slowly through his teeth as he pulled back to see Wille’s eyes squeezed closed. 

“Look at me, Wille, please,” he begged, and when Wilhelm opened his eyes Simon was astounded to see the shine of a thin layer of water over his eyes.

Simon felt himself unraveling like a ball of yarn thrown off a skyscraper, the gravitational force pulling at his very being, tugging at everything he thought he knew until it was unrecognizable. All his ideas about himself, about Wille, about everything they held between them that had previously been impossible to decipher suddenly unwound and became clear for what it was: an invisible string, a golden thread leading him through the labyrinth, the red line of fate bringing him to where he was always meant to be—here with Wille, safe and sound and loved and seen. 

The look on Wilhelm’s face was beyond anything he knew was possible in the world. 

“You deserve everything,” Simon whispered. “You’re good, Wilhelm, you’re g—“ he was interrupted by Wille winding both arms around his neck tightly and pulling him close, grunting urgent noises into the skin of Simon’s neck. 

Simon worked his hips forward, already feeling himself tire out from the effort of fucking into Wilhelm at this new angle. He braced his hands against Wille’s shoulders to raise himself up, using his whole body to push forward. 

Wille lifted sweet fingertips to trace around Simon’s neck and chest, dragging through the sheen of sweat and reaching to scratch his nails into the hair behind Simon’s ear. 

Simon tried to go faster, remembering how fucking good it felt when Wille fucked into him harsh and intense like the world was ending. 

He closed his eyes and dropped his head, feeling his muscles ache as he pushed in and in and in and in and in and in and in. 

Wille’s fingertips found the underside of his chin and tilted Simon’s mouth to his own. Simon was so distracted by the tingling that rippled across his face the moment their lips met that he collapsed onto his elbows, taking a breather to laugh into Wille’s waiting, open mouth and suck Wille’s responding giggle into his lungs like oxygen. 

Wilhelm kissed him again and his head spun, furrow creeping into his eyebrows as he melded into Wille’s mouth, thick emotion smothering him. 

“Fuck, Wille, this shit is exhausting,” He chuckled into Wille’s neck. “I don’t know how you fuck me so hard and for so long,” he admitted, wondrous. 

“Just kiss me,” Wille replied softly, pulling his leg out from between their torsos and stretching it back down the bed, hooking his ankle around Simon’s calf to keep them close. Simon shivered at the pressure on his leg, sparks shooting up from the warm point of contact to the top of his spine. 

“Mmm, gladly,” Simon murmured into the space between Wille’s parted lips. As their lips kissed, over and over, Simon felt himself slipping away into memories of the night—Wille, standing over him, bathed in rainbow light as Simon’s heart thudded moments before he admitted his love. Wille, laughing with his whole body as Simon skipped down the sidewalk toward the subway, spinning around with arms spread wide. Wille, digging strong fingers into his feet so hard Simon wondered if they might burst from the pressure. Wille’s hands, huge across his back and holding him tight as they waited for the train. Wille buying Simon’s favorite snack at the grocery store, Wille thumbtacking the drawing of the dog to his wall, Wille carefully closing the red door of his apartment as butterflies scrambled around Simon’s stomach, the very same apartment where they were now intertwined into a single person—Simon still inside Wille’s body as they kissed and kissed and kissed. 

Wille, pinching his nose closed while shoving his dick down Simon’s throat and as that memory rose to the surface of the deep, deep pool of his love for Wille, he made a strangled noise from his throat, dick twitching and body pressing entirely against Wilhelm’s. 

Wille hummed in response and Simon drew his face a few centimeters away to look at him, feeling as though he thought he might dissolve into tiny particles of dust and blow away in the wind. 

“I love you,” he choked, the whisper harsh and rough and escaping unprompted. 

Wille squeezed his eyes closed and stacked his forearms across Simon’s back, pulling his body so tightly against his own, holding him. 

With Wille’s chest pressed so close, Simon could make out the way Wille’s breath stuttered, heart rate increasing as his fingers dug painfully into Simon’s sides. 

The uneven rhythm of Wille’s chest underneath him awoke something akin to alarm, and he wanted to pull back to see Wille’s face, but he wasn’t sure Wille wanted that. So he puffed out wet breaths into the darkness of Wille’s neck, burying his face in close. 

He let Wille continue with his panicked breathing for another long moment before he wrenched his face up a couple inches. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, starting to go soft and trying to stay pressed inside Wille regardless, not wanting him to lose the feeling of being filled up. 

“Mmhmm,” Wille said, but his eyebrows were furrowed and Simon’s mirrored them. 

“Are you, Wille? What’s up?” He whispered, tracing his finger down Wille’s face. 

Wille didn’t answer, just stared at Simon. Simon didn’t want to push, so he just stared back, waiting. 

He waited, and waited, and waited, thinking surely Wille would break eye contact at any moment. The weed slowed the rushing of his thoughts and his blood and he waited. 

Finally, Wille turned his cheek to the pillow. 

His eyelids fluttered, then closed. 

“S just a lot,” he admitted under his breath. 

His chest rose up quickly and he held himself still. 

Simon waited. 

“I’m… I’m okay, ‘s just, a lot,” he said again, voice on the verge of cracking.

Simon’s lips trembled and he pressed them to Wille’s cheek, leaving them there as he just…. waited.  

Wille’s body was so still underneath him—too still. 

Simon counted to fifteen, waiting to feel the rise of Wille’s torso. 

“Hey, breathe,” he whispered, and Wille nodded against his face, pulling in so much air that Simon’s body lifted a few inches into the air. He stayed there for a minute, then exhaled. 

Simon pursed his lips to kiss the corner of Wille’s mouth, the tiny smack sounding loud in the air between them. 

Wille let out another shuddering breath, then slid his palm to cup the back of Simon’s head and nudge it into the space above his shoulder. His fingers searched through Simon’s curls as he searched for words. 

“I, um,” Wille said, and shivered, hiking his leg to curl tighter and shifting Simon inside him in a way that made his toes clench. 

Another inhale, another exhale. 

“I’ve never… .done this .. like this,” he said, squeezing Simon’s ass and pulling him in, nudging their bodies close to emphasize Simon inside of him. “Like this, with,” Wille swallowed. 

Wille breathed in, Wille breathed out. 

He shook his head. 

Simon’s heart thumped. 

“With anyone other than him,” he managed. Simon hummed a little whimper at the vulnerability. 

“No one else has been inside you?” Simon whispered, and Wille turned to smash his face into the pillow, lip trembling. 

He shook his head. 

“Fuck, Wille,” he said, heart squeezing painfully like it was suddenly sealed in vacuumed plastic. “I ..” he trailed off. “That is a lot,” he whispered, nudging into Wille’s pulse point, letting him hide. He sucked a kiss into the soft skin below the hard line of his jaw. 

He felt Wille nod. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” he breathed out, cringing a bit. 

“Mmhm,” Wille answered, and before Simon could breathe they were kissing desperately, mouths sliding together careless and open and wet and loud, Wille’s teeth scraping down the curve of Simon’s chin, rogue tongue licking Simon’s lips with infuriating restraint then filthy insistence. 

He hooked a finger behind Simon’s bottom teeth and left it there while they kissed. It held him in place, helpless and open and Simon shivered; no one else ever made him feel this way—messy and claimed and so fucking wanted. Wille’s fingertip dug into the soft, wet cartilage under his tongue. 

Wille always pressed into the most tender parts of him, and Simon couldn’t do anything but surrender. Wille’s thumbs pressed against the place his pulse jumped, stealing his breath. Wille’s nimble questions poked at his painting, forcing Simon to articulate thoughts that previously sat locked inside his chest. Wille pulled secrets from his squishy heart, exposing them to the chilly air then blanketing them with the warmth of his love. 

He whimpered into Wille’s mouth. 

Wille pulled away kissed his cheek, breathing heavily through his nose. Simon looked at his face, unable to understand how his body was capable of feeling this much love. 

“Wanna fuck you again,” he whispered. 

“Sure you’re not too tired for that?” Wille quipped, and Simon flicked him in the cheek. 

“Oh fuck you,” he replied. 

“I mean,” Wille answered with a little smile. 

“Dumbass,” Simon grumbled. “Hang on I need to,” he gestured vaguely toward his crotch. 

“Can I?” Wille asked. 

Simon blinked. 

“Get you hard again,” he elaborated. 

“Oh, um, yeah,” Simon stuttered, stomach erupting with something light and fluttery. Fuck, the effect Wille had on him should be studied in a lab. 

Wille patted the top of his chest with his hand. 

“Come sit,” he said. “Wanna taste you.” 

Simon malfunctioned, staring blankly at Wille until he broke into a grin, snapping his fingers in front of Simon’s face. 

“Right, yeah,” he said, brain catching up as he blinked rapidly. A smile crept onto his face to meet Wille’s own and he shifted, pulling his legs up clumsily up until he knees settled under Wille’s armpits. Wille reached his fingertips to tap at his biceps. 

“Put your knees here?” he requested. 

Simon’s heart shot to the base of his stomach like an elevator with a severed cord. 

“Right,” he breathed, shifting to place one knee on his arm just below Wille’s shoulder, then the other. 

It was a little awkward to balance but with the pillow behind Wilhelm’s head it positioned him perfectly. He tried to hold some of his own weight. 

“Am I like, squishing you?” he asked. 

Wille huffed. 

“No, stupid. But I wish you were,” he grinned and Simon’s heart beat against his chest the way a child slams their fists in a tantrum—irregular and desperate, near hysterical pounding in his chest.  

It was swirling, furious, powerful and it made his heart feel as desperate as ever in his life. Helplessness washed over him as he looked at Wille’s sweet face and rather than fight it, he let it wash over him. The rippling force of the surrender dripped down from the top of his head and he released the tension in his thighs. His weight sank into his knees, pressing hard into Wille’s arms as he leaned forward. 

Wille melted. 

“Yeah,” he sighed happily. 

Simon watched as he licked his lips. As Wille opened his mouth, tongue curling over his bottom teeth, Simon’s heart jumped like a startled animal. He was already half hard again and he inched forward, feeling clumsy in his attempts to move his crotch toward Wille’s fucking gorgeous perfect face. 

Wille tilted his chin up and opened his mouth more, an obscene, expectant circle and Simon couldn’t breathe as he nudged the head of his dick to touch Wille’s lip, rubbery friction that was accompanied by eye contact, Wille’s gaze boring into his face. 

Wille lifted his head and took the first inch into his mouth, tracing his tongue delicately just under the curve of the head, sensitive nerves igniting at the contact. His eyelids drooped slightly as he just licked the same spot a few times in a row, like he couldn’t be bothered to look at what he was lathing his tongue over.  

He just peeked out from under pretty eyelashes to keep staring at Simon. 

Simon breathed out a moan and shifted even closer, sinking deeper into the wet hot warmth. 

He kept his head tilted down, unable to look away from the way Wille’s face stretched to take Simon in, the way his eyelids fluttered. 

Wille bobbed his head and took in more, around the head carefully, slowly. Simon gripped the top of the headboard with one hand and let the other slide into Wille’s hair, cupping the back of his head gently to take some of the strain from his neck. 

Simon sucked his lower lip into his mouth, teeth digging into the divot of his chin as his eyebrows furrowed. 

Wille slid up and down and up and down and Simon’s world went white. 

His hips stuttered as Wille leaned back onto the pillow, pulling off of Simon’s cock. 

“Okay, you’re ready,” he said sweetly. 

Simon whined, back arching. He stared down in disbelief and Wille smiled up through pressed together lips. 

“We should do that again sometime, though, for real. But for now will you fuck me again?” Wille added. 

“You.. I…” Simon stuttered. “Yeah, I, okay, um, yeah,” he managed, brain still firing like a spark plug. 

Wille looked amused as Simon slid down his body, freeing up Wille’s arms and maneuvering down to line himself up between Wille’s legs. 

“Ready?” He asked quietly. 

Wille nodded, and Simon kissed his lips softly as he reached down and nudged the head of his cock up to Wille’s hole. He pushed in, watching Wille’s face closely. Wille slid a hand into his hair and tugged Simon down toward the pillow, face scrunching up in a grimace he clearly wanted to hide. 

“Am I hurting you?” Simon whispered, stopping all pressure. 

“Please keep going,” Wille begged. 

Simon did, and Wille’s whole face contorted, eyebrows and lips twisting like he might cry out. Simon wanted to stop, but he trusted Wille, so he kept going until he bottomed out. 

Wille let out a relieved gasp, face losing some of its tension. 

“Did I hurt you?” Simon asked, and Wille shook his head. “I like it,” he admitted. 

“God, you’re so tight,” Simon groaned, unsure how he had even managed to fit inside the vice grip now clenching around him. 

He looked at Wille’s bright eyes and felt everything in him catch aflame. Everywhere he looked, red and orange and pale yellow danced around, crackling loud and contagious. 

Wille’s eyes were so familiar to him and his throat felt hot and pinched. 

“I feel so close to you right now,” he whispered. 

“You are,” Wille answered, reaching his delicate palms to tremble over Simon’s back until they landed on his ass, pulling him in. 

As Simon followed the rhythm of Wille’s hands on him, pushing in and pulling out with excruciating slowness, he stared deep into Wille’s eyes. And Wille stared back at him, open and trusting and just letting Simon see him split open and stretched wide and shattered into pieces. 

He touched Wille’s face in awe, two fingertips brushing his cheek lightly, his breath stuttering painfully as his lungs constricted around the weight of all the feelings held in his body right now. 

And then Wille’s eyes blurred slightly, growing shinier even as Simon watched them so intently. 

With a particularly deep thrust, he jerked both their bodies up the mattress, and the movement jolted Wille’s head enough for the precariously gathered water to roll out of his eye and down his left temple. 

“Oh, Wille,” Simon breathed, overcome with so much awe he wondered if choirs would begin singing all around the world from the power of it. 

Another tear rolled out along the same path as the first. Wille blinked, and another one fell, this time out the corner of his right eye, nestling itself next to his nose. 

Simon continued pushing in and out and Wille just lay there, staring up at him. 

His face was unmoving. 

His eyebrows weren’t furrowed with pain or pleasure, his mouth wasn’t twisted in a pout the way Simon’s always was when he cried. 

Wille lay prone on his back, open and accepting and vulnerable. Simon kept expecting him to swipe at his cheeks or turn his face away, but he just let the tears slide out of his eyes and down his face without judgment. 

Everything inside Simon ached to be the one beholding this. The rims of Wille’s eyes reddened more and more as Simon continued fucking him and he continued letting the tears well up and fall and Simon pressed his lips to the salt stained skin, tasting Wille’s tears and feeling his skull fill with heat. 

Wille’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding him so close as their bodies moved together, slow and searching and safe. 

Simon pressed his face against Wille’s, nudging like he could wipe the tears away with his own cheek. 

He pulled away and felt cold where he was now stained. 

In a fluid, unspoken agreement, they moved as one, rolling over so Wille was now on top. 

Simon kept the same pace, not allowing Wille to hike his knees up enough to do any of the work himself. Wille draped himself heavily over Simon’s body, letting Simon fuck up into him from underneath. 

His eyes were still slowly, methodically filling with water despite the absence of vicious sobs or shuddering breaths. 

One tear drew a line down the tip of Wille’s nose, then clung onto the end until it was joined by another droplet a moment later, and together they soared off of his face and landed on Simon’s own forehead. 

Another teardrop, mixed with sweat, landed on his face just an inch away, immediately followed by a third. 

“Sorry,” Wille mumbled, smudging a thumb over Simon’s forehead to spread out the water. 

Simon had never understood baptism. He had been to one for his Venezuelan cousin—the ceremony was too long and he wasn’t sure how some water dripped on a forehead could change anyone’s life. 

But here, now, he felt the promise of something eternal spread through him from the point above his eyes where the holy water landed. 

A cleansing, a transformation, a proclamation. 

Wille leaned down and dropped his lips to the wet spot and Simon closed his eyes, overcome.