Chapter Text
Warmth.
Quiet.
Cool yellow sunlight seeping through the blinds. Wille opens one eye blearily, squinting into the light.
Where?
What?
He lets out a slightly confused hum, turning his head slightly, neck stiff, looking around. There's a weight against him.
Simon.
Simon.
Wille is awake in an instant, eyes widening, his heart rate skyrocketing. They're wrapped around each other, and they've barely moved from where they fell asleep, legs still entwined, Simon resting on Wille’s chest.
Wille stares up at the ceiling, mouth slightly open as he gathers his senses, memories of the previous evening coming to the forefront of his mind in a hot rush. He mindlessly trails his fingers over Simon’s arm, where it's tucked against Wille’s side.
Had they really -?
Did they actually -?
They had.
Simon shifts slightly, stirring vaguely. Wille keeps still, not wanting him to wake sooner than really needed - he knows that the cabin has a later check out time, it's not like they need to get up and go. He has time. They have time. Simon rolls over, tugging Wille’s arm with him, and settles again. Wille adjusts himself slightly, pulling Simon into his chest, curving their bodies together. A quiet content hum comes from Simon as he rubs his cheek against Wille’s arm, and he lets out a slow sigh, fully asleep once more, his back pressed to Wille’s chest.
Wille drops a soft kiss to the back of Simon’s head, lingering there for a few moments. He still can’t really believe that he isn’t simply dreaming again, that this isn’t some weird kind of hallucination. Maybe they had crashed on the way to the cabin the night before, and everything that happened was just something he’d come up with while he’s in a coma or something dramatic.
But everything had been real. Is real. Simon really is lying curled on his side next to Wille, hugging Wille’s arm to his chest, they really had spent the last night skin to skin, naked bodies entwined through heavenly sensations. It was wholly unexpected, and yet Wille had never felt so right in something. It wasn’t like he had made some kind of decision to have sex with Simon, it had just…happened. Because he loves him.
How had he been so stupid to not realise how he felt for Simon for so long? He doesn’t even know how long he’s been avoiding his own feelings. Probably longer than he’ll ever actually want to admit. He drags himself back through his memories, trying to find the moment, a specific, particular point in time, where things had changed, and he simply draws a blank. Perhaps it had been like that godforsaken John Green book, The Fault in Our Stars. Perhaps he had fallen in love with Simon slowly, and then all at once. Because, yes, the realisation had been abrupt, jarring, but he had been questioning his own feelings for days, if not weeks (or longer), and the actual moment had been a culmination of a storm of emotions that he had been fighting to understand. It had been so slow that Wille hadn’t realised what was happening until that moment at the piano, where Simon had played Wille’s favourite piano piece.
But whenever it happened, however it happened, Wille knows one thing for sure - he’s in love with Simon. That’s what matters.
Wille feels himself drifting off again, but he tries to fight it for a few moments, burying his head into the back of Simon’s neck, pressing kisses along the skin, warm and flushed with sleep, the collar of his pyjama shirt brushing against Wille’s bottom lip.
“I love you,” Wille whispers, even though he knows Simon can’t hear him. Or rather, he thinks Simon can’t hear him, until Simon gives a little half asleep sound, and mumbles, “I love you too,” in reply, squeezing Wille’s arm.
Wille can’t help the stupid smile that crosses his face, or the way his stomach swoops with happiness. He tries to keep his aura nonchalant, like he isn’t grinning like a fool, mumbling, “Go sleep,” to the back of Simon’s head.
Simon hums vaguely, settling against Wille again. Wille holds him close, feeling sleep creeping up on him again. He doesn’t know what time it is, but he knows it’s early. Plenty of time to stay wrapped in bed with Simon. Plenty of time to stay in this newfound state of happiness.
*
“Wille.”
Wille gives a groan, opening his eyes with difficulty. Simon is lying opposite him, smiling at him softly.
“Morning,” Simon mumbles, looking a little shy.
“Morning, sunshine,” Wille grumbles, smothering a yawn with his hand.
Simon turns a little pink, squashing his face into the pillow beneath his head as he gives a small giggle.
“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy?” Wille teases. “Did I not see you butt naked last night?”
“Shut up,” Simon groans, turning a deeper shade of red.
Wille giggles, prodding Simon’s shoulder.
“Details,” Simon mumbles, peering at Wille for a few moments, before he gives a little hum and shuffles closer. His nose brushes Wille’s as he settles, and Wille takes the opportunity to kiss him quickly, giggling at Simon’s surprised squeak.
“Oh, hi,” Simon murmurs, a silly smile tugging at his lips as he blushes.
“Hi,” replies Wille quietly. “How are you?”
Simon stares silently at him for a few moments, eyes flickering over Wille’s face. “I’m good. Really good.”
“Oh yeah?” Wille says, smirking.
“Mm, something something waking up next to someone I love something something.”
“Sap,” Wille says, but his cheeks are burning.
Simon rolls his eyes, sighing. “And how are you?”
“I’m pretty good too, yeah,” Wille says lightly.
Simon smiles at him, eyes sparkling for a few moments, before something shifts in his expression. “So…last night,” he says slowly.
Wille’s stomach sinks slightly. Oh god, Simon regrets it.
“I had fun,” Simon says airily, before Wille has much of a chance to spiral.
“Oh -” Wille coughs, somehow both taken aback and relieved at the same time. “Me - me too.”
“That’s a relief,” Simon mumbles. “Otherwise all this would be a bit awkward.”
Wille gives a little sheepish giggle, tugging at Simon’s waist under the covers, bumping their hips together.
“We should do it again sometime,” Simon says quietly. His eyes have darkened slightly, a distinct wanting edge to his gaze, but he doesn’t do anything, simply stares at Wille.
“Agreed,” Wille manages to choke out, cheeks burning.
“I do, however, think we should put an end to the fake relationship,” Simon says carefully, looking a little worried as he chews on his bottom lip. “And maybe…make it…a real one? I…I want to be with you.”
An elated rush fires through Wille’s body, and he can’t help but grin stupidly, feeling like his heart is going to burst from his chest as he nods so fast that his head spins.
“I like the sound of that,” he mumbles through a giggle. Simon smiles back at him, eyes sparkling, and he shifts up onto his elbow, leaning over Wille as he cups Wille’s cheek. He runs his thumb over his skin, his gaze soft as his eyes flicker over Wille’s face, smiling gently.
“Me too,” Simon whispers. “I love you. I think I always have.”
Wille lets out a little sigh, running a hand up Simon’s back, the fabric of his shirt soft on his palm. “I love you,” he murmurs. “Thanks for being the most real fake boyfriend.”
Simon gives a snort, and drops his head to Wille’s chest as he giggles. Wille winds his arms around Simon, holding him tightly. He can't comprehend that everything he's dreamed of is unfolding before him, that Simon really is right there, saying that he loves him, that he wants to be with him, for real, not in a fake way, not pretend or for show.
“I don’t really know how much of it was fake,” Simon admits, head still buried in Wille’s chest, voice slightly muffled. “Maybe before the Christmas party, it was mostly fake. But after that, it started to feel more real. Even though I was telling myself everything you were doing was just pretend, you know? Part of me hoped that…maybe it wasn’t fake.”
Wille stares at the ceiling for a few moments, going back over his memory. Something occurs to him abruptly, and he looks down at Simon again, who’s shifted slightly, head resting on Wille’s chest, face turned towards him.
“When you called me,” Wille says. “On Christmas eve. Well, Christmas morning, technically. When you couldn’t sleep. You were being all weird and mysterious, talking about wanting something you couldn’t have.”
Simon’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “I was talking about us,” he mumbles. “I started thinking that maybe you liked me too, because - because of the way you would hold me, or hold my hand, stuff like that. It felt real.”
“Maybe it was,” Wille whispers. Simon stares at him, mouth slightly open.
“I just didn’t realise it. Because I’m an idiot,” Wille says, smiling sheepishly.
“You’re an egg,” says Simon.
“Shut up.”
“Make me,” Simon retorts, smirking.
Wille barely even hesitates in dragging Simon closer, kissing him as hard as he can, lips meeting at a slightly awkward angle, which makes both of them giggle. Simon’s hands are sliding up Wille’s neck, along his jaw, into his hair, fingers running through Wille’s messy bed hair with a kind of hungry desperation. Wille grips at Simon’s waist, pulling him closer, meaning that Simon has to adjust slightly, settling over Wille’s waist. There’s a gentle heat igniting below Wille’s stomach, tingling spreading through to his fingertips as he slides his hands beneath Simon’s shirt. Simon is on his knees over Wille’s waist, kissing him so intensely that Wille almost struggles to breathe.
Simon gives a hum, pulling away slightly, hands cupping Wille’s face as his curls tickle Wille’s cheeks. “What time do we have to leave?” he asks.
“Check out time is 1pm,” Wille mumbles.
Simon sits up slightly, leaning over to the bedside table, picking up Wille’s phone and checking the time. His face falls slightly. “It’s just after 12.”
Wille groans. “Damn,” he sighs.
Simon smirks at him, dropping his phone back to the bedside table and hovering over Wille again. “You had something in mind?” he murmurs. His eyes are dark, tracing over Wille’s face, again with the expression that he’s never seen Wille before, that he wants to keep staring.
Wille feels his cheeks flushing hot. “Maybe,” he admits. He actually has a lot in mind, but there is definitely not enough time. Well, not for all of it. Maybe there’s time for some of it.
“Oh?” Simon gives a small note of intrigue, head cocked at an angle.
Wille pauses as he thinks, trying desperately to organise his pathetically horny mind into some semblance of order and priority. After a few moments, he comes to a decision, grinning slightly sheepishly up at Simon.
“Trust me?” he says quietly.
Simon nods. “Always.”
“Good,” Wille chuckles, and he rolls them both over, giggling at Simon’s squeak of surprise.
“I’m gonna suck you off, then we’re gonna hit the road, okay?” Wille states simply.
It seems like Simon loses the ability to speak as his eyes flutter, lips parting as he takes in a small gasp. He nods rapidly, staring fixedly at Wille as he shifts down Simon’s body, tugging the waistband of his pyjama pants out of the way. Simon is already half hard as Wille takes hold of his length, hand lubricated with a hasty lick of his palm, and strokes slowly up and down, gently coaxing small sounds of pleasure from Simon, until he’s fully hard, and Wille takes him in his mouth.
Simon lets out a string of curse words, intermingled with gasps and moans, his fingers tugging at Wille’s hair. Wille focusses on Simon, on his pleasure, on making him feel good, because god knows he can’t think of any words right now. He swallows around Simon’s dick, breathing sharply through his nose, resisting the urge to gag as he feels Simon hitting the back of his throat. Wille runs his hands over Simon’s skin, warm from sleep and their close proximity, muscles stuttering beneath his fingertips, before he grips at Simon's hips.
“Fuck,” Simon hisses as Wille draws back, swirling his tongue over his slit, stroking Simon's dick with his hand again in absence of his mouth. Wille glances up at Simon’s face, seeing his glassy eyes, lips parted, a flush sitting high in his cheeks. It's rapturous, something that Wille wants to hold in his mind, something he can see every time he closes his eyes. The weight of Simon’s dick on Wille’s tongue, the way it fills his mouth, is intoxicating and addicting. Simon’s hands are still in Wille’s hair, guiding his head up and down as Wille sucks and takes and takes as much as he can. He knows he’s never been particularly skilled at blowjobs, but God damn it, he’s going to do his best. And apparently, his best is good enough, because after barely a couple of minutes, Simon suddenly tenses, taking in a short gasp of breath, before he lets out a loud moan, and his cum hits the back of Wille’s throat before he can react. Wille doesn’t really care, keeping his mouth over Simon’s dick as he strokes him through the last few pulses of his orgasm, hearing Simon stuttering Wille’s name over and over, tugging hard at Wille’s hair. Wille moves his mouth down and then up the entire length one final time, licking every last piece of evidence away, swallows, and sits up slightly, grinning at Simon.
“Jesus,” Simon mumbles, eyes wide, jaw slightly slack as he stares down at Wille, panting a little.
Wille shrugs abashedly, trying to hide how pleased he is with himself.
“That was hot,” Simon says quietly, cheeks flushed.
Wille wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and rolls away, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Thanks,” he hums, looking at Simon over his shoulder briefly before he checks the time. 12:30.
“C’mon,” Wille says, tugging the covers away from where Simon had attempted to burrow himself away in. “Blowjob, then hit the road.” Wille gets up as he hears Simon’s flustered giggle.
“I’m gonna shower. And definitely brush my teeth. You’re welcome to join me, but so help me God, if you try anything, I’m kicking you out and you can walk back to Stockholm.”
Simon keeps giggling as Wille leaves the room, and Wille shakes his head as he gives a little laugh himself.
Everything is real.
Everything is real.
*
It’s some kind of miracle that both Wille and Simon manage to get up and showered and dressed and out the door in time. Wille had seriously considered risking a late check out fee as Simon had entered the bathroom while he was in the shower, staring at Wille through the glass door with dark, intoxicating eyes, before Wille had taken a deep breath, glaring at Simon pointedly as he stepped out of the shower and immediately wrapped a towel around his waist.
“Your turn,” Wille had said quickly, side stepping Simon to leave the bathroom, gesturing to the shower. Simon had mumbled incoherently as Wille passed him, but had eventually gotten in the shower.
Wille hovers by the door of the cabin, glancing back to make sure he’s got everything. He turns to leave, finding Simon lingering a couple of feet away, twisting his fingers together as he looks nervously at Wille.
“Got all your stuff?” Wille asks. Simon’s look of worry is a little beyond just thinking about potentially leaving something behind, though, so Wille adds, “You okay?”
Simon sucks in his lips as he thinks, still surveying Wille with an odd expression. “Are you - are we - ” He breaks off, looking down at his shoes.
Wille catches on, and his stomach does a little somersault. “Hm?” he hums teasingly as he closes the door to the cabin, ensuring it is locked.
“Don’t make me say it out loud,” Simon whines, cheeks flushing.
“Say what?” Wille goes on innocently, grinning.
Simon gives an exasperated sigh, casting his eyes to the sky. “It’s so silly,” he mumbles. “Are we - are we boyfriends? Are you my boyfriend?”
Wille’s legs turn to jelly, but he manages to stay on his feet, taking a step closer to Simon and tugging them together. Simon avoids looking at him, instead staring determinedly at the collar of Wille’s shirt.
“I don’t know,” Wille says lightly, unable to stop from grinning slightly stupidly. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Simon lets out a small squeak as he nods so fast his features are blurred for a moment.
“Okay then,” Wille giggles. “You’re my boyfriend then.”
Simon throws his arms around Wille, the momentum sending Wille teetering backwards. He hurries to right himself, catching the two of them after taking a couple of steps, ensuring they don’t go crashing to the ground. Simon has such a tight hold around Wille that Wille is worried he may suffocate, but, in all honesty, he wouldn’t mind. There’s worse ways to go than being hugged to death by the person he loves the most.
“But I do have to ask,” Wille mumbles into Simon’s hair, “Does that mean I’m your boyfriend?”
“Shut up, yes ,” Simon groans, voice muffled in Wille’s shoulder. “We’re being so stupid about this.”
“Just clarifying,” Wille giggles, holding Simon a little tighter.
The two of them simply stand there for a few moments, swaying slightly, arms around each other. Wille has never felt more content, never felt more like things are finally lining up and falling into place. And more than anything, that constant, nagging hole he has felt in his soul is filled, the feeling that something was missing is gone, and things finally make sense. It’s all real, Simon is there, Simon is his, and he is Simon’s.
“I love you,” Simon murmurs after a while, pulling back slightly to look Wille in the face, cupping his cheeks. His expression is earnest and open, eyes shining slightly as his gaze flits over Wille’s face.
Wille locks his hands at Simon’s lower back, keeping them close together, leaning into Simon’s hands as his thumbs trail back and forward over his cheeks. “I love you too,” he whispers, feeling like every emotion he’s experiencing is about to come exploding out of him, like a sea wall about to burst in a storm. And so he does the only thing he can think of to try and express and simultaneously contain that torrent of emotions; he kisses Simon. He kisses Simon as hard as he can, hoping that he can at least share some of the vehement love he cannot contain on his own. Simon’s hands are clutching at Wille’s face, simultaneously pushing and pulling at him as they kiss, lips moving together in an already familiar dance.
“We should get going,” Simon mumbles, barely pulling away from Wille’s lips as he speaks. “Otherwise you’ll be driving in the dark again.”
Wille hums non committedly, tugging Simon in for another kiss.
“Wilhelm,” Simon says, trying to sound serious but failing as he giggles, pushing Wille away.
“Don’t Wilhelm me,” Wille whines, pouting.
“Then get a move on,” Simon laughs, prodding Wille in the chest. “I’d love to suck face all day but we need to get home,” he says as he slides past Wille with a giggle.
Wille bites his tongue, resisting the urge to ask Simon if there’s anything else he’d like to suck, and grudgingly gets into the car.
*
The drive back to the city is the same kind of familiar and normal that Wille has always experienced with Simon, conversation flowing easily and any silences feeling comfortable and without awkwardness. Wille catches Simon staring at him occasionally, a funny look in his eye, before he notices Wille looking, and promptly flushes maroon and turns away.
The third time Wille catches him, as they’re entering the outskirts of the city, he prods Simon in the arm. “What are you up to?” he teases, grinning across at him.
Simon mumbles incoherently, staring at his lap as he twists his fingers.
“Hm?” Wille pushes gently.
“It’s dumb,” Simon says quietly, still not looking at him. “Embarrassing.”
“Try me,” Wille insists. He gives Simon what he hopes is a reassuring smile.
“I just -” Simon starts, before he takes a deep breath, looking over at Wille. “I’m really happy. You make me happy. And - and I really thought I’d lost you for a bit yesterday. But I didn’t. And…yeah. I never thought anything would happen between us. Realistically, you know? I just thought I was forever doomed to be the stereotypical gay guy in love with his oblivious best friend -”
“I’m not oblivious,” Wille interrupts indignantly, bluffing his way through his rapidly heating cheeks and fluttering chest. Simon’s words were washing over him, the reality of just how much Simon cares, and has always cared, becoming more and more obvious.
“Yes, you are,” Simon says flatly. “Always have been. Anyway -” he goes on, “I just - you - you mean so much to me, and I never want to lose you.”
There's a lump in Wille’s throat that makes it hard to speak. “You won't,” he manages to get out.
“Okay,” Simon croaks. He’s staring down at his lap again.
Wille reaches over, winding their fingers together to stop Simon from wringing the life out of his hands. Holding Simon’s hand has always come naturally to Wille, throughout this whole ridiculous fake dating, and maybe it was because of how real he wanted it to be without even realising.
“Hey,” Wile says softly, squeezing Simon’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? And - and even if we hadn’t - you know - done what we did last night -”
Simon gives a snort.
“- I would still be there for you. I love you. Whether or not you were my boyfriend. And, seeing as you are my - my boyfriend, I’m not going anywhere. You’re really stuck with me now.” Wille’s stomach does a stupid excited little twist at calling Simon his boyfriend. His real boyfriend.
Simon takes Wille’s hand in both of his, lifting it slightly, and presses kisses to Wille’s knuckles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he murmurs, his breath warm over Wille’s skin. “I love you.”
Wille smiles over at Simon, giving his hands another squeeze.
“Do you -” Simon coughs, clearing his throat. “Do you want to, uh…stay at mine tonight?”
Wille can see him looking sideways at him pointedly, and feels a direct rush of heat pool in his stomach, and his hold on the steering wheel falters slightly.
“I - I’d like that,” Wille says, cheeks flushing hot.
“Cool,” Simon mumbles, before he giggles, covering his face with his hands as he shakes his head. “Sorry,” he gasps. “Just can’t believe I’m actually asking you that, and having it mean something completely different than before.”
“Oh, we’re not just having a sleepover?” Wille says lightly, grinning as he keeps his eyes firmly on the road, taking the exit to Simon’s suburb.
“Shut up,” Simon groans. “That is far from what I had in mind.”
“Oh?” Wille hums, somehow managing to keep a teasing air, despite the fact he feels like he’s rapidly unwinding as heat travels rapidly south.
“You know exactly what I mean, stop it,” Simon sighs, poking Wille’s arm.
“Do I really?”
Simon sighs loudly. “I’m gonna fuck - Oh my god , are you fucking kidding me?” Simon’s voice rises to an angry peak.
Wille, who had been slightly distracted by Simon’s implied activities for that evening, follows Simon’s enraged look with great confusion, and immediately understands.
Marcus is sitting on the steps outside Simon’s building.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Simon hisses, unbuckling his seatbelt before Wille even parks the car. As soon as Wille comes to a halt, Simon virtually throws himself out of the car, storming up to Marcus, brow furrowed, eyes stormy. Wille hurries to follow him, hand slipping as he shifts into park, and hastily undoes his seatbelt as he’s already halfway out the door, catching up to Simon.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Simon is saying, hands gesturing wildly at Marcus.
Marcus looks the epitome of smug, arms folded across his chest as he smirks triumphantly. “Just here to give you some advice,” he says.
Simon gives an indignant grunt, rolling his eyes. “I doubt you could ever give me anything of value, but please enlighten me,” he says drily.
“I just wanted to give you the opportunity to come clean about your fake relationship before I go and tell Wilhelm’s boss tomorrow,” says Marcus. He’s still smirking, gaze flitting between Wille and Simon.
Wille’s stomach sinks. Oh god. How could Marcus have known? How could he have figured it out? Wille knows they had everyone else convinced, so what had given the game away to Marcus?
“Fake -?” Simon starts, his voice high pitched. He’s rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, something he does when he’s stressed and on edge.
“Don’t play dumb, Simon,” Marcus says flatly. “I don’t think Wilhelm’s boss will be too thrilled to know that she’s funded a trip for her employee and his fake boyfriend. I do rather think that’s considered taking advantage.”
“What would you know about anything like that?” Simon snaps. Wille’s head is spinning. How could Marcus have figured anything out about their trip away?
“You really shouldn’t leave your phone unlocked on your desk, Simon,” Marcus says airily, still with that smug smile on his face.
“You went through my phone?” Simon all but shrieks, taking a step closer to Marcus, his fists clenched. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Marcus shrugs. “You left it unlocked. I was just passing by.”
“You went into my office , while I wasn’t there, and went through my personal phone!” Simon is shouting now, voice cracking slightly. “Why would you think that’s okay? You’re sick.”
Marcus shakes his head, chuckling slightly. “It was right there, Simon, what do you expect?”
“What - what do I expect?” Simon snaps. “I expect you to walk on by, you fucking sick bastard. You invaded my privacy, and somehow think you have the upper hand here?”
“I’m not the one with a fake boyfriend, Simon,” Marcus says coolly.
“It’s not fake,” Simon says immediately.
“I have pictures that say otherwise.”
“Oh, you took pictures as well?” Wille says quickly, unable to bite his tongue any longer. His heart is pounding, anger coursing through him as he glares at Marcus. “You’re so fucking twisted, what is wrong with you?”
“Oh, here comes the hero,” Marcus drawls, turning his attention to Wille. “Protecting your pretty little friend. Are you trying to prove something, hm? Why would you even agree to fake date him? Are you, like, in love with him, or something?” Marcus seems to think he’s done something, grinning at Wille like he’s backed him into a corner.
“Yeah, I am, actually,” Wille says flatly, folding his arms. “And sure, maybe it was fake, but it’s not anymore.”
Simon looks back at him; even in the anger of the moment, with the frustration, the indignation, Simon’s eyes are still tender, looking to him with such love that Wille almost forgets that he’s supposed to be angry. Almost .
Marcus looks between the two of them, a look of great disbelief crossing his face, before he tries to cover, his smug smirk faltering slightly. “And, so what? You expect me to believe you’re just suddenly together? Like you think it would make a difference to Wilhelm’s boss finding out she paid for a trip for a fake boyfriend?”
“I honestly don’t think it’s any of your business, Marcus,” says Wille, taking a step towards him so that he’s level with Simon. Simon scrabbles for his hand, and Wille can feel his shaking fingers; Wille quickly realises that Simon isn’t shaking from anger, though - he’s shaking with fear. He’s frightened.
“Ah, but it is. You think I’m somehow supposed to be okay with being strung along for months by this charade? You manipulated not just me, but how many other people? And lying to your boss, Wilhelm? That’s surely a case for HR.”
Wille doesn’t want to admit that he feels slightly sick at the thought of Astrid finding out he’s been lying to her for months. How forgiving would she be if she found out that Simon hasn’t been his boyfriend this whole time? And she had used library funds to pay for him and Simon to go on a work related trip away - would she view it as a subversion by Wille? Could he lose his job?
“We only did it because you wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone,” Simon snaps, his hold tightening on Wille’s hand. “You have no sense of boundaries, no respect for other people and their wants and needs. I told you I wasn’t interested, I told you to leave me alone, and you never respected any of that.”
Marcus looks like he’s truly never been told such a thing before. “I - I just wanted to prove to you how serious I was - how serious I am. I want to be with you, Simon, why can’t you see that?”
Wille feels his blood pressure rising, blood roaring past his ears.
“I can see it, Marcus, but I don’t fucking care. I’m not interested. Maybe I was, a little bit, way back at the start, but you repeatedly crossed boundaries, and I - I don’t like you. What else do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?”
“We had something special, Simon, why can't you see that?” Marcus virtually whines. Wille wouldn't be surprised if he'd stamped his foot as he spoke.
“Just fuck off, Marcus, I swear to god. I'm asking - begging - you to leave me alone. I'm not interested. I'm with Wille. End of story,” says Simon, a slightly desperate edge to his voice.
“Simon, please -” Marcus starts, but Wille finally snaps. He sees red. He's fed up. He drops Simon's hand, and before he knows what he's doing, he's rushed towards Marcus, and his fist collides with Marcus's jaw.
“Wille!” Simon shrieks, as Marcus staggers backwards, sliding down the door of Simon's apartment building, clutching his face. Wille flaps his hand, wincing as his fingers and knuckles immediately begin to ache. Marcus looks at Wille in horror, eyes wide.
“Fuck off, Marcus,” Wille says. “Don't try and threaten us, or blackmail us, or whatever it was you were trying to do. Just stay out of it. We can all go our separate ways. And maybe you should sort your shit out. Get some help or something.”
Marcus is still staring at Wille open mouthed, seemingly unable to come up with any smart-mouthed response. His smug facade is gone, and he suddenly looks tiny.
“Please, just leave me, us, alone,” Simon says. He takes a hold of Wille’s upper arm, almost in warning, and he's avoiding looking at him, glaring determinedly at Marcus.
There's silence between the three of them, Marcus looking like he's about to protest, about to come up with some other remark, before his shoulders sag, and he lets out a reluctant sigh.
“You'll regret this, Simon,” he says, but even he doesn't sound entirely convinced. “You know I'm better than -”
“Just stop, for Christ's sake,” Simon groans. “If you leave me alone, I won't go to the higher ups about your borderline stalking of me. You don't tell Wille’s boss about the fake relationship. We're all happy. Just go, Marcus.”
Marcus finally seems to admit defeat. He gets to his feet again, still cupping his face, where Wille had punched him. He opens his mouth to say something, but seems to think better of it, turning away from them, and slouching off to his car without another word. Wille ensures he continues glaring in Marcus’s general direction until his car disappears around the corner. As soon as he’s out of sight, Wille feels a twinge of trepidation cross him; perhaps he had overreacted, maybe he shouldn’t have punched Marcus. Maybe Simon thinks less of him, now that he’s seen him like that?
“That was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done,” says Simon as Wille turns to face him again.
“Oh -”
“Just maybe don’t do it again?” Simon suggests lightly, grinning at him. “Could definitely have some consequences.”
Wille rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, probably,” he mumbles. “Do - do you think he’s gonna leave you alone now? Like, actually?”
Simon sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope so. But I don’t really wanna think about that right now.” He winds his arms around Wille’s neck, looking at him pointedly. “You said yes to staying the night, yeah?”
Wille coughs as he chokes on his own spit. “Mmhm, yeah. For our not-sleepover.”
“Good,” hums Simon. He kisses Wille quickly, before he returns to the car, getting their bags. “Hurry up,” he says, fumbling for his keys at the bottom of his tote bag. “I have plans, Wilhelm.”
Wille’s cheeks are scorching hot, but he manages to keep himself together long enough to get his things and stumble up to Simon’s apartment. Simon yanks Wille’s bag from his hands, and cups his face with his hands. Wille blinks slowly down at him, heart pounding, still not quite able to believe that he’s not dreaming.
“It’s real,” Simon whispers, as though reading Wille’s mind. “It’s all real.”
Wille nods. It’s real.
Everything is real.
•° the end °•