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Simon's not mad at Wilhelm. He's not angry or frustrated; he's not even disappointed. Instead, there's this pit carving itself deep in Simon's chest, piling every worry he's held for the boy inside until Simon can't bear it. Wilhelm's entire world has been flipped on its head, and Simon's heart aches to ease Wilhelm out of this lost haze he's been trapped in for days. Wilhelm has lost the only member of the royal family who could put a smile on his face, his eyes would light up when he talked about Erik, but now that light is gone. And left behind is a boy Simon cares so deeply for, stripping away who he truly is to become what his country needs him to be.
The Crown Prince of Sweden.
Wilhelm pulls at the material of Simon's jacket, and both of them almost topple over. Simon barely catches his own footing before tightening his grip on Wilhelm's waist to keep them both balanced. At an early age, Simon had become skilled at helping someone high as a kite stumble their way back to reality. His father had made sure of that. Simon works to push the painful memories far from his mind, not wanting to make the situation he's currently in any more triggering than it already is.
Wilhelm's foot catches on the ground, and he stumbles once more. "Sorry, sorry I just–," he fumbles over his words pressing his mouth together, licking his lips like it'll help grease his thoughts. "Simon, 'm sorry," he pleads again, and Simon doesn't respond. Wilhelm wraps his arms tighter around Simon's neck, trying to walk while simultaneously resting his head on his shoulder. Bending awkwardly at the waist to match Simon's height.
Wilhelm tries to apologize again, but Simon hushes him as they creep along the darkened path leading to the boys' dormitories. They halt abruptly when Wilhelm steps on a stick, and the snap echos through the forest line, like a beacon claiming their location. Simon inwardly groans, grabbing Wilhelm by the arm and pulling him across the grass, ignoring Wilhelm's wobbly complaints at the sudden movement. Without being spotted, they make it to the backside of the building, where windows line the exterior.
Simon pulls Wilhelm closer to his side, praying they don't get found. This becomes increasingly more probable when Wilhelm begins to giggle, ruining any stealth they possibly had. Wilhelm crouches to hide his head in Simon's shoulder. Before he can, Simon reaches up, clasping a hand over the boy's mouth. There's a nervous silence that focuses between them that even Wilhelm seems to notice with wide eyes. Both their minds wandering to that first night. He feels Wilhelm swallow under his palm, eyes burying themselves into Simons, who quickly withdraws his hand and holds a silencing finger up to his lips.
"You need to be quiet," Simon softly warns, "what room is yours?" he whispers in question. Wilhelm is once again overcome with laughter, and Simon rolls his eyes frustratedly to the sky. Simon hushes him sternly, which seems to do the trick. Simon might not be overly fond of this school. But he doesn't particularly want to be kicked out either, especially if Wilhelm is getting kicked out with him.
Simon takes a deep breath, desperate to keep his now-growing frustrations at bay. He closes his eyes, trying to think the problem through. But the way Wilhelm is hanging off him, arms wrapped securely around Simon's waist, and his chin resting on Simon's shoulder is incredibly distracting. A shiver runs across Simon's neck when he feels Wilhelm's warm breath brush against his skin as it vanishes into the chilled air. Simon's problem solving becomes increasingly difficult the closer Wilhelm moulds himself into him, so Simon shimmies out of Wilhelms hold and slumps against the paved building. Huffing a sarcastic breath as he leans back, bumping his head against the wall.
Wilhelm stands to face him, swaying slightly, using his hand closer to the wall to steady himself. He watches Simon, head tilting with a humoured smirk.
"Wille," Simon holds his voice steady, "what room is yours?" He asks again, beginning to worry at how long they've been outside.
Unfazed by the question, Wilhelm lifts his fingers and runs them gently through Simon's curls, smiling contentedly to himself as he does so. The gesture is incredibly personal, it sends a jolt of longing through Simon, and he has to remind himself to breathe. He didn't think something so ordinary could make his stomach lift into a flurry of affection. With the way Wilhelm's gaze softens at the touch, Simon nearly returns the favour, but he stops himself.
How ridiculous would that look? Two boys stood outside, fingers tangled in each other's hair as they stare longingly at each other.
Wilhelm wistfully mutters something that sounds like "so lovely."
Simon's cheeks burn as he clears his throat, the sound more strained than it should be. He seems to startle Wilhelm from whatever thoughts had taken his mind, and he withdraws his fingers from Simon's head, stepping back with a mumbled apology.
Simon slides his back against the building's exterior to sit down. His pants becoming damp on the packed dirt beneath him. Wilhelm seems to contemplate Simon for a moment, then does the same, landing beside him with more grace than he should for someone in his condition. Perhaps the long walk helped sober him up.
Simon watches curiously as Wilhelm sucks a sharp breath through his nose, holding it for a moment while his hands run shakily into his hair, anxiety visibly building.
"I'm –," Wilhelm starts, frowning up at the sky, "–'m not him." his voice wavers, jaw going stiff like he's working to keep everything in. But Simon can see the heartbreak tearing through Wilhelm's body. It's in the tense way he holds himself, shoulders stiff and eyes distant like he's living through a haze. Simon can see it now, flowing through the few tears that manage to escape, shaping the pink in Wilhelm's cheeks.
The grip Wilhelm has on his hair tightens, "I can't– m'not what they want–" he tries, voice catching as his eyes narrow forward like he's concentrating on the darkness that lines the forest. He stays silent for a while, counting his breaths like he's burying the broken moment deep into the ground.
Simon wants to be angry at Wilhelm; he wants him to know how profoundly fucked up their lives have become. Wilhelm has hurt Simon in so many ways, and frustratingly, he's not sure he can be mad at the boy for it. Simon can't begin to understand the pressures Wilhelm is facing, but that doesn't make the sickness in his stomach leave, it only deepens. Particularly at times like this, when Wilhelm is so completely lost.
Simon reaches out, circling his arm around Wilhelm's shoulders. He seems startled at the gesture but lets Simon rest his head atop his own while leaning into the embrace.
"Simon," Wilhelm sighs, his body relaxing as he curls deeper into Simon's side. His fingers brush against Simon's free hand, like he wants to lock them together but isn't sure how.
"Wille," Simon gently claims the boy's focus, "why did you call me tonight?"
Wilhelm pulls back and sits up, turning his body to face Simon, crossing his legs in front of him as he struggles to focus. Eventually, his glassy eyes center on Simon. "I didn't think you'd come," Wilhelm confesses defeatedly. Simon swallows the urge to reach out and pull the boy back into his arms. "Didn't know if anyone–." Wilhelm doesn't finish, swaying forward to rest his forehead on Simon's shoulder. Keeping his face hidden, "I really like you," Wilhelms admits, steadier than he's been all night.
A chill plunges into Simon's chest. Hearing Wilhelm confess his feelings over the phone is one thing. But having him here, sat beside him, raising his head, gazing sincerely into Simon's eyes, is a whole other experience. Simon has to resist the urge to reach out and tuck a stray hair behind Wilhelm's ear if only to see him more clearly in the darkness.
"I think Eric would have liked you." Wilhelm continues into Simon's stunned silence and past his own sorrow. His eyes light up when he says his brother's name. And Simon wants nothing more than to keep the light there.
So he prompts Wilhelm further, "yeah?" Simon asks shyly, rolling his lips together as he pulls his knees up to rest his elbows on. Listening to Wilhelm's words with intention.
"Mhm," Wilhelm mumbles, his head bobbing forward slightly as he tracks his fingers through a patch of grass that merges into dirt lining the building. "I told em' about you," William says like it's not a big deal, but that doesn't stop Simon's heart from jumping in his chest. "Well, not really about you," Wilhelm clarifies, "he caught me. He knew I wanted to stay at Hillerska. Asked who they–," Wilhelms mind wanders off along with his words. "They," He repeats the word to himself, brows knitted together. He looks past the ground like there's some sort of revelation waiting on the other side. Wilhelm jerks his head back to look at Simon, "He said they," he swallows, "did he know?" Wilhelm asks Simon, mouth parted slightly in wonderment.
There's movement along the edge of the forest, and both Simon and Wilhelm jump apart, only now noticing how close they'd been sitting. There's an outline walking toward them, and Simon can feel his pulse rise with anxiety.
Wilhelm squints at the figure as if that'll somehow make them more visible. "Alexander," Wilhelm asks aloud.
"Wilhelm," the boy questions, becoming increasingly more visible as he rushes through the darkness, meeting Simon and Wilhelm at a crouch in front of them. Keeping himself out of sight.
"Is August with you," the alarm in Wilhelm's voice rushes out unfiltered, and Simon can feel it like it's his own.
"No," Alexander says quietly, "I was told I was no longer needed."
Simon frowns at the way the boy says it like it's perfectly reasonable for him to only be around when he's of use.
"What happened to you? You were suddenly gone," Alexander puzzles with a hushed concern that might actually be genuine.
Wilhelm's eyes slip back to Simon, a smirk starting on his lips filled with affection as he peers at him. He opens his mouth to presumably say something he'll regret in the morning, so Simon cuts him off.
"I called–" Wilhelm begins.
"–he got lost," Simon speaks over him, "thankfully I was around," he clears his throat, attempting to explain further. Trying to ignore the confused tilt of Wilhelm's head from his lie. "Can't find his room though," Simon explains with an awkward half-laugh. Thankfully Alexander doesn't require more explanation.
"I leave my window cracked open," Alexander informs, "If I can get past his bodyguards, I'll go in and pop his open. It's that one there," Alexander points in the distance, and before Simon can ask what window he pointed at –amongst all the others that look the same– he's gone.
Simon stands, wiping bits of dirt off his clothes. He helps Wilhelm, who easily snakes his arms around Simon's shoulders, using him for support. Their stance isn't particularly helpful in keeping Wilhelm up, but Simon still lets the boy drape himself over him. Finding it frustrating but endearing all the same, they start toward the window Simon thinks Alexander pointed to.
"Simon," Wilhelm whispers close to Simon's ear, his warm breath peppering a trail of goosebumps down his neck. "Why did you kiss me during the movie?"
Simon nearly trips over his own feet as they shuffle along the building. He clears his throat, stopping when he sees Alexander move behind what must be Wilhelms bedroom window. Safe from a response, Alexander jerks it open. The glass pane nearly smacks Wilhelm in the head as he loses his balance, his grip on Simon faltering. Simon clutches Wilhelm by the arm, catching him before any damage can be done and guides him to the window. Alexander reaches through, pulling Wilhelm in by his elbows as Simon keeps the boys stable from the other side. Once he's in, Simon finds himself unsure of what happens next. Is he meant to follow Wilhelm inside too? Does he want to?
There's a loud clatter as Wilhelm trips to the ground, tumbling over the desk obstructing the window somewhat. Simon chuckles when the boy stands, quickly twisting around. His eyes lighten with what could be relief when they land back on Simon like he's surprised to find him still standing there.
"I thought– well I'm –," Wilhelm swallows and takes a deep breath scrunching his eyes together then opening them. The same level of wonderment is stuck behind his features, "I thought you were a dream," Wilhelms admits breathlessly. Simon's heart melts in the chilled air.
Alexander steps back into view, "I can take it from here," he concludes dismissively.
Instantly there's an ache growing in Simon's gut, already yearning to ensure Wilhelm's safety. It's interrupted by Alexander's phone vibrating loudly in his pocket. He pulls it out. Simon watches him as he holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder and places both hands on Wilhelm's arms, guiding him to lean on the desk.
Willhelm leans back on his palm, turning to stick his head out the window. He whispers loudly, making Alexander cover his other ear with his finger and turn away toward the door. Wilhelm gestures for Simon to climb through the window once the other boy's attention is elsewhere.
Simon subconsciously licks his lips, pressing them together with a shallow exhale, contemplating all the ways this could go wrong. But when Wilhelm beckons him once more, Simon's chest becomes lighter, and he can't say no.
His journey through the window is much less complicated than Wilhelm's. He doesn't require two people to help him. Though, he blushes when he takes Wilhelms extended hand, almost tripping over the desk himself and colliding into Wilhelm. He catches Simon by the waist, their chests gently bumping together. Simon gasps softly at how close they are, and for an intense second, Wilhelm looks like he'll kiss him.
Simon's eyes dart to the back of Alexander's head and back at the inebriated layer still covering Wilhelm's eyes, and he steps back, out of Wilhelms embrace. Trying not to notice the puzzled frown that sours Wilhelm's smile.
"–Yeah, I do," Alexander says, still facing the wall. He startles Wilhelm, jumping further back from Simon like he forgot Alexander is here. Which would explain a lot. "I've still got them," Alexander turns back around, patting the outside of his coat, where there's something bulky hidden beneath. Alexander's eyes widen slightly, probably shocked that Simon is inside Wilhelm's room, then turns his attention back to whoever is on the phone. "I'm coming," he ends the call shoving his phone back in his pocket, thinking for a moment, then he focuses on Simon.
"August needs me back. Can you deal with him?" Alexander gestures to Willhelm, who's found himself wobbling in the centre of the room. Eyes focussed intensely on a snow globe he must have found, holding inches from his face.
"Yeah," Simon pauses, watching Wilhelm hold the glass ball to his eye like a magnifying glass. "I got him," he sighs, rolling his lips together.
Alexander thanks Simon with an appreciative nod and slips out the door into the hallway. He hears him speak to someone, and Simon wonders what he would have to say to get into the crown prince's bedroom in the middle of the night.
Simon gently takes the snow globe from Wilhelms's hands, lowering them and placing the globe on his desk. When Simon looks back to Wilhelm, he notices the boy studying him, his lips rising into a smile that makes Simon blush against the still room.
"We're alone," Wilhelm whispers with a roguish smirk. He treads forward, closing into Simon's space, so he has to tilt his head down to look at him, close enough that his hair nearly curtains both of their faces. "You're beautiful," Wilhelm breathlessly whispers, knocking his forehead carefully against Simons, breathing in the inches between them like he needs it to survive.
Wilhelm's hands loop around Simon's waist. There's a grin dancing on Wilhelm's lips as he rocks his forehead against Simons, their noses brush together, and Simon is caught in a paralyzing loop. His mind is captivated by how near Wilhelm is that he almost doesn't step back when Wilhelm attempts to connect their lips.
Hurt flickers in Wilhelm's eyes as Simon stumbles back, his hip catching on the desk behind him. There's a sharp pain that snaps Simon back to the present, to their situation, and to what Wilhelm needs from him right now.
"You should sleep," Simon's voice is hoarse as he hides his hands in his jacket sleeves. A reminder to keep them to himself.
"But 'm not tired," Wilhelm quietly argues, turning to face away from Simon toward the bed with a yawn that claims otherwise.
Simon stands, uncertain what to do when Wilhelm drops his jacket from his shoulders, wraps his fingers around the hem of his shirt, and pulls it up over his head. There's an echo of light that spills past the open curtains from the hazy night sky. Through it, Simon can make out gentle grooves shadowing Wilhelm's narrow body. He appreciates the subtle curve of Wilhelm's spine, the dim light emphasizing the hollow dip where his jeans border his hips. Simon wants to reach out and follow every definition with his fingers. He wants to know if he can feel each bump along the boy's spine that rises when Wilhelm crouches forward onto the bed, flopping down on his stomach and rolling on his side to face Simon.
Simon clears his throat, sweaty palms rubbing against his jeans, pointedly trying not to let his gaze wander lower than Wilhelm's face.
Wilhelm extends his arm to Simon as if he's hoping the gesture will magically pull him forward. But Simon remains fixed in the middle of the room, achingly conscious of how alone they are –a rare occurrence– and how the tender glow of the moon dances across Wilhelm's pale skin, like porcelain.
"Come m'ere," Wilhelm drowsily mumbles, dropping his arm and moving it to wrap around his own body, like he's hugging himself.
Simon wonders how frequently Wilhelm does that. How often he's alone with no one to embrace him or comfort him. How many times he's hidden in these four walls, wishing his brother could be there with him. Simon's chest clenches at the thought. He can't allow Wilhelm to feel alone, not when he doesn't need to be.
With timid breaths and light feet, Simon hesitantly makes his way across the room and sits at the opposite end of the bed. Wilhelm shuffles to pull his covers over himself and nuzzles into his pillow. Simon thinks he hears him mumble the word "pretty" and "thank you," but it's hard to discern in Simon's own haze of exhaustion. He leans back against the wall, trying to get comfortable enough until Wilhelm falls asleep. But the heated air in the room, in contrast to outside, becomes uncomfortably warm, so Simon removes his jacket, draping it over his legs. He'll leave as soon as he knows Wilhelms is asleep. He just wants to be comfortable in the meantime.
Simon watches Wilhelm's chest rise and fall, lulling into a soothing rhythm. Simon's eyes hang heavy, blinking to keep them open. He decides it's okay to rest them for a minute, then he'll leave.
He'll definitely leave.