Work Text:
Seeing him is worse than anything Simon had imagined over Christmas break, and he imagined everything.
At first, Simon found himself, despite trying not to, wondering what Wilhelm might say to make things right. Pretending that upon his return to Hillerska, Wille would be waiting with an apology on his lips. That somehow all the horrible things that happened to them would be erased in a single moment. But unfortunately, doing so only made Simon's stomach sink low in his belly, uncomfortable and guilty despite knowing it was Wille who messed up, not him.
Sometimes his dreams turned to forgiveness. Of Simon falling back into Wilhelm's arms and letting it all go. The tension between them would clear with the crisp winter breeze as their lips would touch, and they'd lose themselves in each other all over again. Those tales usually came to Simon late at night when the loneliness became difficult to ignore. When his chest would wind into a type of longing he didn't understand until things ended between him and Wilhelm.
Simon's brain became good at playing tricks on him, making everything about his dreams feel so real that by the end, his heart would twist into angry knots that only added fuel to the fire in his mind that burned with heartbreak. But of course, what followed after the anger was plain sorrow. A hollow pit that hung cavernous in his chest. Seeming to never end as it grew with each day that passed. It wasn't until one night, when he'd spent the good part of an hour scribbling into his notebook writing on tear-stained pages, unsure if the words even made sense, that he realized he needed to stop. Stop thinking of him and everything that happened until every memory that bubbled to the surface began to feel distant and outside himself. Far away and nearly impossible to conjure up. It was easier this way, or at least Simon thought it was.
Instead, it seems ignoring the temptation of his mind did nothing to solve the ache within him. All it did was provide a temporary band-aid over the hole in his chest. It was the only way he could make it through the Holiday without slouching away to his room with nothing more than three words mumbled at dinner. His avoidance has to be why it hurts so much. If he had actually moved on, then spotting Wilhelm across the room wouldn't feel like a shot to the chest meant to steal Simon's breath like it never belonged to him in the first place. If Simon had truly put it all behind him, then hearing Wilhelm speak wouldn't cut deep under his skin while somehow bringing goosebumps to the surface.
Simon barely registers what Wilhelm says, too consumed by the vision in front of him to listen. He should, but he can't. Not when he's somehow found himself closer to the Crown Prince than he intended on being this term.
He can't take his eyes off Wille as he speaks on the phone, giving Simon enough time to study his features. He had cut his hair. It's the first thing Simon notices, and he instantly dislikes it. Of course, Wille still looks wonderful, but seeing him with short hair only reminds Simon of Erik. And the thought that follows sends a wave of nausea to his stomach, guessing the reason for the change. It differentiates Wilhelm from the version of Wille in the video, the Wille that Simon recognizes best, the version he knows... knew. It draws Wille closer to the pristine image of his brother, like if they dress him up like Erik, then Wilhelm might actually become him, or a version of him.
Wilhelm hands the phone to Simon, who's careful not to let their fingers touch, completely afraid of what might happen if they do. Simon shifts his attention to the device, avoiding Wille's eyes as he carefully (and somewhat angrily) confirms that his sister is, in fact, alive.
"Apparently she passed her initiation. Wonderful traditions, as always," Simon explains, handing the phone back to Wille while filling any silence that might pass between them because Simon can't do that right now. Words and talking. Pretending like nothing has happened. Like things are normal. He’ll have to figure out how, though, but that can wait for tomorrow because he feels so outside himself, like he can't fully process that Wilhelm is standing in front of him as if no time has passed. He needs to get out of here.
As Simon's about to go, Wilhelm reaches to stop him. "No, no, no, wait! Uh…" he pauses much like Simon's heart does when he looks up at Wille, finding it nearly impossible to draw his eyes from the boy's lips. "Hi, by the way," Wilhelm says with an embarrassed charm that Simon can't help but chuckle nervously at.
Simon shifts on his feet, unsure of what exactly he's supposed to do or say, what Wilhelm wants him to say. The uncertainty is debilitating enough that words refuse to form in Simon's mouth. He stares with wide eyes because, apparently, when Wille's around he doesn't know how to function.
Thankfully though, after a pause, Simon manages a single word. "Hi," he says, finding it impossible to look at the boy but somehow unable to tear his eyes away. A mixture between hesitant eye contact and skirting the space around Wille's head. Avoiding how Wilhelm stares back at him. His gaze never wavers despite the red flush that blossoms over his cheeks and the nervous bob of his adam's apple.
Simon has to ball his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching up to feel. To glide his thumb across Wille's cheek and along his jaw, down his throat until there's nothing left untouched because that's what Wille liked most. He liked when Simon's fingers found a way to trace his skin over and over again until there was nothing left outside tucking closer into each other's bodies and breathing each other in. Simon refrains, though. It's not his place anymore. Besides, it would hurt too much if he did.
"I got a haircut," Wilhelm states nervously as if Simon hadn't already noticed.
Simon's eyes flick upward, noting the change once more. But this time, the first thought that comes to mind is how Simon's fingers felt when they dragged through Wille's longer hairstyle, and he can't help but wonder if it would feel the same now. It's how Simon pictured Wille all winter break. Hair that he always had to shove out of his eyes and biting nervously on his thumb. An absolute dork despite how charming he can be.
Simon's tongue refuses to form words, lost in his thoughts, leaving him to nod as Wilhelm stares at him in the way he does to make Simon feel like he's the only person in the room. His brown eyes search Simon's like he'll find the stars mapped there. Like Wille dreams of catching each constellation with every measured breath he takes. Every breath that Simon's able to follow with the slight rise and fall of Wilhelm's chest. Simon tries to hold back, to keep himself from faltering, but of course, his vision inevitably lands equally intense on Wilhelm, pausing obviously on the pink of his lips and the slope of his nose, something Simon never thought attractive before Wille.
As Simon studies Wilhelm's features, something warm begins to crawl into his chest, a terrifying longing that was becoming easier to ignore, but it seems with a single interaction, a couple of sentences, barely a conversation, he's left to start from scratch. Simon's protective walls are already tearing away with the hope that Wille might choose him one day. It's a dangerous thought. One that he desperately needs to put an end to because he deserves more than that. He deserves to be seen rather than tucked away, for Wilhelm to be honest about his feelings and open to hearing Simon’s side of things.
Thankfully, Simon's phone vibrates in his hand, granting him the strength to tear his eyes away. It's a message from Marcus. He's ready to leave. Thank god.
Simon barely says goodbye before truly making his way past Wille. Though it's almost as if he never fully leaves based on the tension that draws Simon back despite his determination to keep going forward. It takes everything in him to focus onward to where Marcus waits at the car with a friendly smile that helps ease the pain in Simon's stomach while adding something he can't quite name. All he knows is that he needed to get out of there, and thankfully Marcus was kind enough to wait for him.
"Hey," Marcus grins, standing from the hood of his car.
"Hey," Simon forces a smile.