Chapter Text
Wille
The minute Wille opens the door and sees Simon standing on his threshold – eyes red and puffy, bag over his shoulder – he knows what to do. Simon doesn’t even have to speak, Wille knows Marcus has done something wrong and Simon is the one to suffer from it. And Wille, he’ll be the one to clean up Marcus’s mess, as he always does.
A chill goes through him when the cold, November wind blows into the house. He shivers but he’s not sure it’s actually from the cold or from the anger that’s building like a rocket about to launch in his chest. But to see Simon like this – his best friend, so defeated – Wille decides to keep his “I told you so's” to himself, at least for now.
“Simon,” Wille starts, his voice filled with more affection than intended. He barely has time to brace himself before Simon drops his bag on the ground and throws himself around Wille’s neck, making him nearly lose his balance.
Simon’s crying fills Wille’s small hallway and it breaks Wille’s heart in a million pieces. But for now he just holds him. Breathes him in. Probably in a way that’s not very suitable for someone who’s “just friends.” Simon’s cologne fills his nostrils, together with his coconut flavored shampoo. To Wille it’s the best smell in the entire universe, one he would never get tired of.
They’d been best friends for six years. Simon had been the first person to welcome him when Wille had to switch school in third year of high school. Wille had been angry and done his best to stay invisible. It was just a year, no reason to get to know these people. He missed his last high school, his friends. And even if he still got to see his friends it wasn’t the same.
But Simon had decided that Wille wasn’t invisible, and by the third week Wille actually realized he liked going to school after all. In fact, it had been the favorite year of his 18 year old life when he graduated high school. As some kind of thank you, he’d bought Simon a chocolate calendar that year, and Simon had loved it so much he’d kept the empty box even long after the chocolate was gone. It had made Wille so immensely happy, he’d continued doing it every year since.
By the time they went to college, they were inseparable. Simon studied journalism, Wille studied business, so they didn’t have that many classes together. But they lived together at campus, hung out all the time when they weren’t in class. Even kissed a few times at some drunken college parties, which Wille never complained about by the way.
When people asked if they were dating, Simon usually just laughed it off. So Wille stayed quiet, even though he knew he was falling deeper and deeper into the heart-shaped hole with “Simon” written all over it. He thought about saying something, more than once. But every time something or someone came in the way. And suddenly, it felt like he’d waited too long.
Then, Simon had met Marcus. Wille hated the guy. Not just some regular dislike. No, red-eyed, chest tightening, fist curling HATE.
The moment Simon had introduced them, Wille had dragged Simon away and asked him if he was really sure about this guy. If he really knew him. Simon had just looked at him with a deadpanned gaze, before he turned around without uttering a single word.
It had led to them barely speaking for two weeks, and it had made Wille so insanely miserable that he’d said he was sorry. That he trusted Simon’s judgment and he would try to be nice to Marcus.
Thinking back now, it had been one of the hardest tasks Wille had ever endured. Being nice to the person you hate – but your best friend somehow says he loves – is almost impossible. But he’d made the best of it, even though it broke his heart and made him wish for a voodoo doll every time he saw them together or Simon even mentioned his boyfriend at the time.
“Come on, Simon,” Wille tries slowly when Simon’s crying turns into small sniffles. Simon dries his eyes and bends down to pick up his bag, but Wille snatches it from him before he has time to fling it over his shoulder. It earns him a tiny smile, but it’s enough to make Wille’s chest bloom.
He shouldn’t bathe in Simon’s heartbreak. And he really tries not to, but he has to admit that it feels kind of nice to know he was right, something he would never admit out loud. He doesn’t know what happened between Simon and Marcus, but he’s definitely finding out. Because if the guy had intentionally hurt his best friend, he would have to pay for that, preferably with Wille’s fist against Marcus’s jaw.
Simon flips off his shoes and hangs his jacket by the door and walks into Wille’s living room. It’s such a normal thing, it’s happened a million times before. But this time still feels different. Wille can’t really put his finger on it. But maybe the fact that the moment of Simon sitting on his couch right now is filled with opportunities instead of restraint has something to do with it.
That Wille can actually hold Simon’s hands that fiddles with the hem of his hoodie, stroke his knuckles, and it could actually mean something more. That Wille can look into those big, brown, shiny eyes and see something more than just a friend. That he can provide Simon with a comfort that can only come from love higher than best friend level.
No, stop it.
Wille shakes his head. Simon just got dumped, or at least that’s what Wille’s brain has chosen to believe. Simon has to heal his heart before he can let anyone else in. But then again, what if Wille can be the one to help him heal it? Wille’s arms are the ones Simon seeks comfort in; maybe he can seek it in his heart too?
Simon keeps his eyes down, and throws his arms around himself like a hug. His legs tucked under him, like he wants to make himself disappear. The wind suddenly howls outside and it shakes Wille out of his staring competition with himself.
“I’ll put your bag in the bedroom. You want something to eat? Drink?” he says after clearing his throat. Simon nods slowly, but he doesn’t speak so Wille isn’t sure if he’s agreeing to the bag in the bedroom or the food and drink.
A tear rolls down Simon’s cheek and Wille decides both the bag and the food can wait. He drops Simon’s bag and walks over to the couch with fast steps before he sits down. For a second they just sit there, Simon still hugging himself and Wille not completely sure how to proceed. He doesn’t want to intrude Simon’s space, but he also doesn’t want him to feel alone.
“You want a hug?” he tries with a small smile. Simon takes a deep breath and nods at the the same time. So Wille opens his arms and Simon melts into him. “You want to talk about it?” Wille whispers into Simon’s curls. Those beautiful, shiny curls that always makes Simon look like an angel.
For a few minutes it’s just quiet. Wille holds Simon in his arms, and if he could, he would never let go. He needs to get over himself, this is just his best friend needing comfort. They’ve done sleepovers and hugs and quiet, sleepy, movienights on the couch with their arms and legs tangled together so many times, Wille has lost count. And if he’s being honest with himself, he wished it meant as much to Simon as it did to him every time, even though deep down he knew it didn’t.
But he was also just happy to have his best friend close. He knew he could talk to Simon about anything. Simon knew 95% of the details about Wille’s life. Except that Wille was soul-crushing, heart-wrenching, impossible to breathe sometimes, in love with him.
Wille has to admit, he was terrified. What if Simon found out, and he would lose him forever? Wille couldn’t risk that, right?
But now, his brain decides to shut that stupid thought out. Because right now, Simon needs him. And Wille is determined to be the best friend he knows Simon would be if the roles were reversed.
Suddenly Simon sits back and dries his eyes again. They are red and puffy, and a few of his curls has found their way down to them. Wille fights the urge to brush them away. “I’m so stupid, Wille,” Simon sighs and leans his head back on the couch. His breathing comes out a little shaky and he just stares up to the ceiling.
Wille reaches out and grabs Simon’s hand. “You’re not stu…” he starts, but he never gets to finish.
“Yes, Wille. I am,” Simon says a little louder and with a determination in his voice, which makes Wille shut up. Simon sits back up so fast it nearly makes Wille feel dizzy. “You tried to warn me, didn’t you? That I didn’t really know Marcus. Well, looks like I didn’t.”
A fire builds in Wille’s chest, making it almost impossible to keep his face neutral. He clenches his free hand into a fist, digging the nails into his palms channeling his anger into it. He knew that son of bitch would hurt his friend, one way or another. Should he have done more to make Simon see Marcus for who he really was? Would Simon even had listened to him? Probably not. So all he can do now, is just let Simon try and wrap himself around the fact that apparently Marcus wasn’t the guy he thought he was after all.
“Simon, what happened?” Wille dares to ask. He would never tell Simon ‘I told you so’ ever. Simon had to make his own mistakes and learn from them. But it doesn’t mean the words aren't playing on his tongue. He bites them down, puts his arm around Simon’s shoulders and pulls him closer. Simon doesn’t hesitate, he tucks himself closer to Wille’s side and leans his head back.
Simon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He hesitates for a second before he speaks. “He cheated on me. And it wasn’t the first time,” Simon says eventually, voice a little shaky.
A fire burns inside Wille’s chest. He didn’t think he could hate Marcus more, but apparently he can. The fact that he’d been cheating on Simon more than once makes him feel sick. Simon had put all his trust in Marcus, said he loved him, done everything for the guy. And all he ended up with was heartbreak. If it was one person on this earth that didn’t deserve that, it was Simon.
“I’m so sorry, Simon. That’s terrible! He’s an asshole!” Wille tries his best to keep the venom out of his voice, but he can see it on Simon’s face that he’s failing.
“Just say it already,” Simon says, eyes locked on Wille like he expects a punch in the gut.
Wille shakes his head. He knows what Simon thinks he wants to say. “Say what?” he replies, playing dumb and biting his tongue so hard he’s afraid it’ll bleed.
Simon sighs and stand up. He throws his hands up in the air before he turns back to look at Wille. “I told you so, Wille. I know you want to.” Wille wants to tell him he would never say that, but he never gets the chance before Simon continues. “You asked me if I was sure I could trust him. And I was stupid enough to shut you out instead of taking your advice into consideration. If I’d listened to you, I wouldn’t have come home from work and walked in on him fucking someone on our kitchen counter!”
His eyes are glassy and Wille knows he’s trying to channel his heartbreak into rage instead of grief. He knows that Simon will do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn’t seem too much affected by all this.
“Simon, listen to me,” Wille says before he takes a deep breath. He reaches out a hand towards Simon who takes it and let Wille pull him back on the couch. “It’s true I never liked the guy, I got a weird vibe from him the first moment I met him. But you trusted him, and I believe your judgment. It’s not your fault he turned out to be the biggest, worst asshole in the world.”
Wille pauses until Simon meets his eyes before he continues. When their eyes meet, Wille swallows hard and for a second his next words are lost in his throat. Simon just looks at him, expectantly, waiting. But Wille is just lost in those brown eyes. It’s like Simon can see into his soul and heal something that wasn’t even broken. Wille is surprised Simon still hasn’t figured out that his best friend is hopelessly and devastatingly in love with him.
He clears his throat and takes a breath. “I don’t know what made Marcus cheat on you, or when it even started. But I’m sure your relationship was equal in the beginning, every day life just happened, and you missed the signs. He’s the bad guy here, Simon, you didn’t do anything wrong. He should’ve just broken it off with you before he started fucking other people.” Saying Marcus’s name makes him nauseous, and he has to fight his urge to gag.
“Do you have ice-cream?” Simon suddenly asks, catching Wille off guard.
“Ehh, sure. I think so,” Wille nearly stammers. Simon smiles and a tiny laugh leaves his chest. Wille is on his feet faster than the lightning, if Simon wants ice-cream, he’ll get ice-cream. “I’ll grab it and if you want to, you can bitch some more about Marcass?”
Simon suddenly laughs out loud, and Wille’s mission for the night is completed. Making Simon laugh is his favorite thing in the world, it’s like winning the lottery every time it happens. That velvet, pure, warm sound fills his chest with more love than he thought it could carry.
When Wille returns to the living room 5 minutes later – juggling ice-cream, bowls, spoons, chocolate sauce and sprinkles in his hands – Simon sits on the floor by the speaker and searches through his phone for the right song. A slow, beautiful melody fills the room, seeps into Wille’s skin like a warm embrace.
“Wow, what song is that?” he has time to ask before he stops dead. The artist starts to sing, and Wille would know that voice anywhere. Simon’s magical voice fills the room, the whole apartment, and Wille almost loses the grip on everything he’s carrying. “That’s… that’s you?” he stammers eventually and for a moment he forgets how to breathe.
Wille knew Simon could sing, had heard it multiple times in high school when Simon sang in the choir. He had the most solos and Wille would sit there, first row, with the biggest smile on his face cheering him on every time.
But this, this seems different. This finds its way straight to his heart, making it beat ten times faster.
Simon turns and smiles shyly at him. “Yeah, I was writing an article on an artist and we got to talking after the interview. I told him I had a song I’d written and he wanted to hear it. So I recorded this to send to him. Marcus didn’t like it, so I haven’t dared to do it yet,” Simon’s voice is quiet, shy, almost like he regrets that Wille heard it.
‘Marcus didn’t like it.’ The sentence is stuck in Wille’s brain like a storm. Marcus hadn’t just disliked the song, he’d shut down Simon’s voice completely. How on earth could Marcus not like this? It’s the most beautiful song Wille has ever heard. Maybe he’s a tiny bit biased, but still, he can sense beauty when it’s literally right in front of his face. Weirdly enough, Marcus didn’t have that ability. If he did, he would never be a dick to the most beautiful human in the universe.
Wille suddenly remembers everything he’s carrying and walks over to the table and places everything down. Simon stops the music and Wille feels empty in an instant. “Don’t turn it off,” Wille says, making Simon look surprised at him. “It’s beautiful, Simon. I want to listen to it.”
The wind howls outside, and the rain has picked up. It’s almost December, but it’s Sweden so snow isn’t exactly a given anyway. But inside the temperature is rising, fast. Because Simon looks at Wille with his big eyes, filled with all kinds of emotions and Wille isn’t exactly sure how to behave.
“Ice-cream?” he decides to say, mostly just to have something to occupy his hands and his brain with. Simon smiles now and puts the song back on, before he walks over to the couch and takes the bowl Wille hands him.
“Thank you for saying you liked the song, it means a lot to me,” Simon says so quiet Wille nearly misses it. A small, tiny smile plays on Simon’s lips and for a moment it’s just like nothing bad just happened a few hours ago.
Wille looks surprised at Simon; he can’t even understand why Simon feels the need to thank him. It makes him really wonder what Marcus and Simon’s relationship was really like. Had Simon been keeping more from him? “You don’t have to thank me, Simon,” Wille says slowly, making sure Simon really hears every word. “It’s a beautiful song, and your voice is angelic. Everyone with ears can hear that.”
The smile on Simon’s face turns a little bigger before he punches Wille lightly on the arm. “Stop it,” he says shyly, before he shifts his attention back to the ice-cream. Wille smiles to himself, it feels good to know he can make Simon smile even when he’s sad.
For the next few moments they eat ice-cream in silence, just Simon’s song playing in the background. Wille has a million questions about Marcus and what Simon ever saw in the guy and their relationship. But he wants to give Simon time. Time to process everything that’s happened the last few hours, so he just eats. Waiting for Simon to take the lead.
Simon opens his mouth and closes it again when his bowl is empty, like he’s searching for the right words. “Why didn’t I see it, Wille?” he asks after a while. His voice is so quiet, Wille barely hears it. It’s filled with sadness and Wille just wish he could wrap Simon in his arms and protect him from all evil in the world.
Instead he puts his bowl down on the table and takes Simon’s hand. Strokes lightly over his knuckles a few times, a reassurance that he’s here, that he’ll listen. It takes Simon a few more minutes but then it’s like he decides to just let it all out. So he tells Wille everything.
That he came home from work early, excited that he had decided to send his song to this artist despite Marcus saying he didn’t like it. He’d walked up the stairs to their apartment with a smile on his face that had disappeared the minute he’d opened the door. The scene happening in front of his eyes is something he wish he could erase from existing. Because seeing a guy leaning against the kitchen counter with his own boyfriend ‘s dick up the guy’s ass, is not something you want to remember.
The guy had fled the scene of the crime in the matter of seconds and Simon had just stood there, staring at how the wheels in Marcus’s brain worked overtime to come up with an excuse. He’d started with some heartless pleas, but Simon had known he was done. He had gone along with a lot over the course of two years ish where he’d dated Marcus. But cheating was not one he would accept.
Simon lets go of Wille’s hand and grabs the nearest pillow, hugs it to his chest like it’s grounding him. “The last thing I asked of him was for him to be completely honest with me and tell me if it was the first time or not,” Simon’s eyes are fixed on something on the wall opposite them, Wille doesn’t dare to speak or even move. Afraid he’ll spook Simon out of his moment of realization. “Marcus just stood there,” Wille’s jaw tightens just by the mention of the name.
“It was like he was debating if it was worth lying to me or not and I could just tell it wasn’t the first time, Wille,” he says. Simon throws the pillow on the floor. and for the first time since he started telling the story, Simon’s voice breaks. Wille grabs him and pulls him in for a hug, holds him close against his chest while his t-shirt slowly gets wet.
“Did he give you an answer? Even if you already knew,” Wille asks, voice muffled into Simon’s curls.
Simon nods against his shoulder. “He did,” Simon’s voice is thick and filled with tears. “He said it had happened before. So I asked how many times?” his voice trails off, like saying the number might make it more real somehow.
“He said he didn’t remember,” Simon says while he leans back. “HE DIDN’T REMEMBER, WILLE! That’s how many times it had happened before,” Simon’s voice is louder now, not filled with sadness anymore. He’s angry. Furious.
Wille opens his mouth to say something, he’s not completely sure what, because the fact that Marcus has cheated on Simon so many times he hadn’t remembered makes him both angry and incredibly sad. He can sense tears starting to burn in his own eyes, but he fights it away. He has to be the strong one here, the rational one. He never gets the chance to even utter a word before Simon continues talking.
“I was with the guy for almost two years. How could I not see it? I’m a fucking idiot. How can I know how to trust anyone else again? Apparently I don’t know how to do that,” Simon’s words hit Wille in the chest. He knows Simon trust him, they’ve been best friends for so long, they know (almost) everything about each other. Simon came to Wille’s house, instead of any of his other friends. But still, he wants nothing more than for Simon to trust him enough to be his boyfriend some day.
“Simon,” Wille starts, but Simon has started pacing the living room, apparently lost in his own head. “SIMON!” he says louder and Simon visibly startles. He turns and looks at Wille and suddenly he crumbles to the floor like the fight has been pulled from his body. Heartbreak is like a rollercoaster – sadness, anger, numbness, all crashing into each other. And now it looks like Simon has gone from anger to devastation within seconds.
Wille hurries off the couch and kneels next to him on the floor. “Simon, you’re not an idiot. He is, okay? And one day you’ll learn to trust someone else again. And in the meantime, you have me. You can always trust me, Simon. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what,” Wille tries for a smile while he speaks, his heart beating so hard in his chest, hoping that he didn’t take it too far.
Simon looks down on the floor, he joins their hands together sending a warm feeling up Wille’s bloodstream. When he looks up, his eyes are glassy again. “I know Wille, and you have no idea how much I appreciate you. You’re my best friend in the world,” Simon’s voice is filled with appreciation, but something in Wille breaks a little anyway. Hearing Simon say ‘best friends’ makes his heart ache for other words to fall out of Simon’s mouth.
“It’s late, you want to go to bed?” Wille asks with uncertainty.
But Simon just nods and starts to get up on his feet. “You go to bed, I’ll just clean up here,” Wille continues and watches as Simon walks slowly over to the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He picks up the dishes and the empty ice-cream box and carries everything into the kitchen. He starts to rinse the bowls when something outside the window over the sink, catches his eye. The rain has turned into snow, and a few snow crystals are slowly dancing their way down to the ground.
It's almost December 1st, just a week away. Soon it’ll be a new year, new beginnings. He knows what to do, and he doesn’t have that much time to do it, but he’ll definitely make it work. For Simon, Wille would do anything.