Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Simon

The bass from inside was faintly thumping in Simon's ears as he leaned back against the concrete, the forest ground cold beneath his jeans. The sensation was challenged by a giddy warmth when he looked to his left to find prince Wilhelm in a similar position. Wille, as Simon had learned he apparently liked to be called.

He'd been different so far, Simon had to admit. Very different from the stuck-up, elitist douchebag he'd expected. Somehow, the fact that they were sitting out here now, just the two of them with the rest of the obnoxious party continuing inside, felt like a manifestation of that.

"It takes a fool to remain sane", he heard Wille sing under his breath, the alcohol in his system making his voice come out louder than he'd probably accounted for. Or maybe, he'd wanted Simon to hear? He was grinning now, at least, having caught onto the fact that Simon was listening to his mediocre drunk singing. Mediocre, he reminded himself. Not worthy of the butterflies currently shaking out their wings at the bottom of his stomach.

"How does it go on after that?" Wille was asking before Simon could get too caught up in willing them away. Simon had a hard time containing a bemused smile when he prompted, "Every morning, I would see her getting off the bus…"

It was obvious that Wille was trying to join in. It was just as obvious that he didn't have a clue of how the words went. Stupidly, that only made the whole thing cuter to Simon.

They both eventually abandoned the attempt, dissolving into shared laughter. It was freaking funny, thinking how Simon was out here, fled from a party he'd never wanted to go to, with the boy he'd ultimately agreed to come for anyway. How he'd caught Wille eyeing him across the room several times tonight. How he absolutely hadn't planned on catching feelings for a member of the literal worst family in the country, and yet here he was, giggling at a drunk Wille's antics like they were the most lovable thing he'd ever witnessed. The thing was, they kind of were.

"What did you think?" he heard himself ask before common sense could catch up with him. It was simply too tempting, knowing he had a shot of getting an earnest answer from Wille, now more than ever.

"What about?"

"About when I sang—"

That was where their moment got interrupted by a barking call of Wille's name somewhere behind them. Heart sinking in his chest, Simon had to suppress an eye roll. August. Of all people at Hillerska, he was probably who Simon felt like seeing the least right now, or maybe ever.

Judging from the way Wille flinched at the sound, then scrambled to bend down far enough to disappear behind the little wall they'd been leaning against, he seemed to share that sentiment. Before Simon knew what was happening, Wille's hand was grabbing at the front of his shirt, then pushing at the back of his head, motioning for him to hide, as well.

"Wille!" they heard August yell again, then a little quieter, "Do you think he's left with someone? Maybe Felice?"

The voice that answered could've been any asshole third year's. Simon had stopped wasting time on differentiating them from one another.

"Let's split up and go look for him. He can't just ditch his own initiation."

"Shit", Simon heard Wille hiss next to him. He must've looked skeptical enough, because the very next moment, Wille added in his direction, "I don't want to talk to them."

And yeah, Simon could relate. He also didn't know what exactly Wille planned to do about that, though, unless he wanted to outright tell them that.

"So what?" he whispered, realizing belatedly that they'd somehow gotten close enough for Wille to hear him without him having to raise his voice. "Do you plan on hiding here for the rest of the night?"

Wille watched him intently, and for a moment, Simon was sure he was about to agree. It sent a warm shiver down his spine, the way Wille's expression gave no indication of him wanting to look away from Simon anytime soon. He almost looked like part of him liked the idea of them both hiding behind this stupid wall.

Then they heard August call out again, closer this time, and Wille hastily shook his head.

"Quick", he hissed in Simon's direction, "to the forest."

Maybe it was the element of surprise, or maybe some part of Simon was simply intrigued enough to find out what exactly Wille's plan was here. Either way, he let himself get dragged to his feet and off in a ducked down sprint, right into the thick of the trees.

They ran for a good twenty seconds before Wille slowed down again, the party lights barely recognizable through the black lines of the trees around them anymore. It wasn't until now that Simon realized Wille was holding onto his hand. He couldn't find it in himself to change anything about that.

"That should shake them off", Wille announced, his voice back to a normal volume again. He sounded pleased, even without Simon being able to make out his face in the dark of the forest. It was really dark, and a lot colder than Simon appreciated.

Still, he felt a remainder of giddiness bubbling at the top of his chest when he asked, "So what now?"

There was a brief silence, then he heard rustling as Wille was fiddling with something. The next moment, the flashlight of Wille's cellphone lit up part of the ground in front of them.

"Now, we're going on a night walk."

"Right", Simon said, a silly giggle wrapping around the single syllable. "And where to exactly?"

"There's got to be a way to get back to Skogsbacken through here. Which way did you take?"

"Sara and I got dropped off at school. I don't know how to get to the Palace from the dorms."

Again, Wille was silent for a brief moment. Then, Simon watched his outline move in what was probably a shrug.

"Well, we're about to find out I guess."

With that, and Simon's hand still securely in his, Wille stepped further into the forest.

They'd been walking for at least half an hour at this point. Which would have been okay, if there'd been any indication of them getting closer to their destination. Instead, the forest around them only seemed to grow denser, the darkness even blacker, and Simon was starting to seriously worry about Wille's phone battery.

This was not how he'd hoped the rest of the night would go. Not that he'd had a specific vision beyond him and Wille spending more time together, joking, holding hands. They'd stopped doing that a while ago, too, sometime around when Simon had started to feel genuinely uneasy. What if they didn't find their way back out of the forest? The temperatures didn't dip below zero quite yet, but he also was wearing a rather thin jacket for being out in the woods in the middle of the night.

God, it sounded so stupid when he thought about it like that. What had possessed him to follow Wille of all people in here? Wille, who clearly didn't know his way around the grounds yet. Wille, who was drunk. Wille, who'd grown quieter and quieter the longer they'd been walking, clearly at least a little embarrassed to have talked Simon into his stupid night walk idea.

"I'm sure we'll find a path or something soon", he was saying now, sounding about as unconvinced as Simon himself felt. Fuck, he refused to die out here. Or worse, get rescued together with Wille and have to explain to his mamá why on earth he'd followed a random boy into a dark forest. Not that Wille was in any way random. Which somehow only made the whole thing worse.

It was getting progressively colder, too, so rapidly that Simon felt his steps slow. This was not normal. Between this step and the one before that, there'd been a drop of at least ten degrees, if not more. Wille seemed to have noticed, as well, judging by the gasp Simon heard him let out.

"Did you just feel that?" he asked, and Simon hated his voice for trembling when he answered, "Feel what?"

Because he must've imagined it, right? There was no logical explanation for why it'd suddenly be freezing from one step to the next.

"The cold", Wille said, wiping away any of Simon's feeble hope.

Before he could answer, he heard Wille gasp again.

"Did you just say my name?" he asked, and unlike before, there was real fear in his voice now. "Simon? Please tell me you just said my name."

"I—I didn't."

Fuck. What the fuck was happening here? And why was Wille moving again? Moving further into the cold?

"It came from right—" was all he said. The rest of his sentence was swallowed in a flash of white light, so bright, Simon's eyes squeezed shut in pain. Then, it was pitch-black again.

"Wille?" Simon called out, not caring about the panic in his voice. "Wille, are you okay?"

There was no answer.

What in the hell…? He couldn't have imagined this, right? The light? Wille being there one second, and now being gone? Which meant that—Fuck, had Wille just been kidnapped, or.. or taken or whatever? By the light?

Simon knew it was stupid, even as he did it. But something inside of him knew that he had to. Knew that if he wanted to find out what had happened to Wille, wanted to make sure he was okay, he, too, had to step into the cold. With a deep, steadying breath, he lifted his foot off the ground and stepped forward. He was swallowed up before his toes could reach the ground again.

Wille

"Hello there!" The voice sounded annoyed. Wille blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his head. He felt… weird. Dizzy. Confused. Very confused. Drunk. He was definitely slightly drunk. But… That didn't explain why—

"Fine, I'll get it myself," the person next to him muttered. A chair scraped across the floor and an arm reached in front of Wille's face, grabbing the salt that had been sitting in front of his plate. His plate on the dining table. In Skogsbacken. Hadn't he just been in the woods with Simon?

Wille squeezed his eyes shut, sucked a breath into his nose, and opened his eyes again. There Simon was, across from him. Was Wille tripping? Had he taken something? He couldn't remember. Maybe somebody had spiked his drink. Fuck. But it had been night. It was night now, because it was dark outside. Wille's heartbeat picked up speed. Had he missed an entire day? What was happening?

He realized that he was still staring at Simon. But only now did he notice that there was definitely a hint of panic on Simon's face. On his beautiful face. Wille hadn't really allowed himself to see just how beautiful Simon was until tonight. Until they'd sat outside in the cold, huddled against the stone wall—no, no! He needed to focus. Because, that had just happened, hadn't it? He was still drunk, for fuck's sake. Inconspicuously, he raised a hand to his mouth and carefully blew into his cupped palm. Definitely still booze. What the fuck was going on?

He broke out in sweat. Panicked, he glanced up and down the table and his mouth went dry. He didn't recognize a single face. These were strangers. Eating, talking, joking as if everything was perfectly normal. They looked odd in a way Wille couldn't really put a finger on. Probably because he was a) drunk and b) panicking. Maybe he was losing his mind. Going insane. Maybe this was some undiagnosed hereditary disease manifesting itself in hallucinations. Wasn't that what happened to royal families sometimes because of all the inbreeding? Oh god, what if he—

"Wille!"

Simon's hiss made Wille snap his head back to him.

"What's happening?" Simon mouthed.

Oh thank god. He didn't know either. Wille let out a sigh of relief, then gave Simon a shrug. "No idea," he whispered.

"What did you just call Folke?" The guy next to Simon asked him.

"What?" Simon stared at him with a frown.

"Oh, I thought you had come up with a new nickname for Folke." This time the guy nodded his head in Wille's direction.

Was he… Folke? Wille felt the panic start to tighten his chest.

"Uh, no, you must have misheard," Simon said hastily.

The boy looked back and forth between the two of them with a suspicious expression, then shrugged and reached for his mug. "Can I borrow your Leonard Cohen record after dinner?" he asked Simon.

"Uhm," Simon said, sending a frantic look Wille's way. "Sure." It sounded more like a question.

"Cool," the other guy said. "Can we go get it from your room right after?"

"M-hm." Simon looked like he was trying really hard not to scream.

To your room… Did Simon live here? Wille's breath was coming faster now. Too fast. He stared unseeing down onto his plate, his untouched food becoming a blurry mass. He needed to get out of here, now. Luckily, the first people started getting up, so Wille hastily threw his cutlery onto his plate, pushed back his chair, put away his stuff and hurried from the room. A look over his shoulder told him that Simon had also left the table, the guy who wanted to borrow a record in tow. Wille would catch up with Simon later to figure out what the hell was going on. Right now, he needed to be in his room and get a fucking grip.

As he passed the door, he considered just running back into the forest, hoping that he would just somehow wake from this nightmare. Maybe it was a nightmare. He pinched his own forearm, hard, then hissed in pain. Clearly not a dream or a very convincing one where he could feel real pain. How would he be able to tell? Forcing his ribs to expand, he pushed away the panic and climbed the stairs. By the time he had reached his room, he was panting and oddly nervous. Still, he threw open the door—and stopped short.

Somebody was sitting at his desk, holding a magnifying glass, bent over a thick book containing… stamps? Who the fuck collected stamps anymore? Those definitely weren't Wille's. Neither was the brown tweed jacket hanging from the hook by the door. Or the leather bag on the floor.

"Can I help you?" the guy at the desk asked, tucking his wavy long hair behind his ear. There was an ash tray sitting next to the book. Now Wille smelled it too. Had this guy been smoking weed? In Wille's room?

"Uhm," Wille stuttered, "I…"

"Are you interested in the stamp collectors' club after all?"

Wille shook his head. "No. No. Sorry. Wrong… wrong door."

Something about this guy was strangely familiar. "Were you looking for…?" He moved his eyes pointedly towards the ashtray.

That was probably the last thing Wille needed in his current state. God knows what was already coursing through his bloodstream. He shook his head again. As he did, his gaze landed on a framed photograph and his heart stopped. He knew that picture. Of the couple in stylish 60s clothing, a boy and two girls between them. Those… those were his grandparents! That picture hung on the wall in their living room. Those were his aunts and… his pappa!

Heart hammering in his chest, Wille stared at the guy who had turned back to his stamps. That couldn't be, right? Except that it totally could. In profile, it was obvious that stoner stamp guy definitely had Ludvig's nose. "I… I have to…" Wille spluttered, turned and fled into the hallway. Heart racing, he pressed himself against the wall, closing his eyes. He felt alarmingly wobbly on his feet and wasn't sure if he would pass out, throw up or both.

"Ah, there you are," the guy from dinner said, coming towards Wille with a record under his arm. "Your roommate's looking for you."

"My…?" Wille gawked at him, willing the black spots in his vision to vanish.

"Lars," the boy said, his eyebrows rising. "Dude, did you, like, take something?"

Wille forced himself to stand up and put on a smile. "No, just… a little dizzy."

"Will you be okay?"

Wille hummed. Not very convincingly apparently, because the guy heaved a sigh, then reached for Wille's arm. "Come on, I'll get you to your room."

Willingly, Wille let himself get pulled along the hallway that had gotten decidedly busier. Finally, his companion more or less shoved him through an open door. "Found him," he said over Wille's shoulder.

Simon. Simon was there. Wille felt alarmingly close to crying with relief. "Drink some water," the other boy said, thumped a hand down on Wille's shoulder and disappeared.

Unsteadily, Wille made a few steps towards the sink. Water was probably a good idea. He turned on the faucet, bent down and splashed his face a few times, then held his mouth into the stream and drank deeply. When he straightened up and dried his face on the towel that was hopefully his, he did feel a little better. The face that was meeting him in the mirror was also, luckily, still his own. There was dirt and flour caking his hair, proof that he had indeed been at his initiation not too long ago, even if it felt like another life. Next to his reflection he caught Simon's gaze. He hung up the towel and turned around.

"Who was that guy and why did he call you… Lars was it?"

Simon pulled up his shoulders. "No fucking clue. I think he called you Folke, didn't he?"

Slowly, Wille walked towards the nearest bed and sank down onto the mattress. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Simon. "Okay, I'm drunk, you're not. But you're still seeing all of this, right?"

"If by this you mean that we seem to have somehow landed in some alternate reality version of Hillerska where we have different names and everybody has a very weird sense of fashion, then yes."

Wille swallowed. He knew what he was about to say would make him sound absolutely batshit. "I think… I think I saw my dad."

"What?" Simon stared at him, then let out a short laugh. "How drunk are you?"

Wille tried to assess the state of his senses. "I think not very anymore."

Simon's brow furrowed. "What do you mean your dad?"

"I know it sounds insane, but I went to my room, or what I thought was my room, and there was a picture of my grandparents that I know, we have it at home, and the guy at the desk… He kinda looked like my dad. Just… younger. With long hair. I… I didn't know he had long hair, so maybe it's not him, but also I really think it is and—" He broke off with a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands. The panic was trying to overwhelm him again, so he leaned forward, resting his forehead on his knees, and just focused on breathing.

Wille felt the mattress dip and then a hand came to rest on his upper back. "Are you okay?" Simon asked softly, concern in his voice.

"No," Wille said pathetically.

The hand started rubbing slow, soothing circles onto his back.

They were quiet for a while. Finally, Wille felt steady enough to sit up again. Simon's hand slipped off his back. Meeting Simon's eyes, Wille said, "I think we traveled back in time. Somehow."

Part of him was surprised when Simon didn't laugh at him. Instead, Simon held his gaze. "I think you're right."

A jolt went through Wille's chest. Hearing it confirmed somehow made it worse. Because if he wasn't crazy, then—Following a sudden impulse, Wille dug his phone out of his pocket. No signal. Four percent battery left.

"Mine's not working either," Simon said. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “If we’re here… are we… still in our own time? What if mamá comes to pick me up and I’m not there? What about Sara?” He gripped a fistful of his own hair.

Wille helplessly lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know.”

 “Fuck! They’re going to freak out!”

Will hesitated briefly before he placed a clumsy hand on Simon’s knee in a hopefully comforting gesture. Simon barely acknowledged him as he turned his head towards the window, clearly trying to regain control. When his breath started to come more evenly again, Wille carefully and a little reluctantly retrieved his hand.

“So… apparently we’re roommates,” Simon finally said.

Right. Somehow that hadn’t really sunk in for Wille until now. A different kind of panic tingled in his chest. They would have to go to sleep soon, wouldn’t they? Trying to sneak out into the night and stumble through the dark forest probably wasn’t the smartest idea. Plus, it must have been way past midnight for his inner clock by now. So maybe they should get some rest and then figure out how to get back to… the future or whatever in the morning.

“Which bed is whose?” he asked after unsuccessfully trying to recognize anything.

Simon gave a shrug, then leaned down and sniffed the pillow. “This one’s yours,” he said as he sat back up.

Stunned, Wille stared at him. Simon knew what he smelled like? The thought made something warm bloom in his chest.

Simon cleared his throat, seeming a little embarrassed, his cheeks turning pink. He stood and crossed the room towards the second bed.

Simon recognized his scent! Wille’s mind was still reeling and he feared that it had just become a whole lot more difficult to sleep in the same room with Simon in the light of that realization.

To distract himself, Wille decided to get ready for bed. Acutely aware of the fact that Simon was there as he pulled off his clothes. Clothes that he'd never seen before. Briefs that were very… brief and left him feeling way too exposed to sleep and walk around in. He found a pair of pyjamas under his pillow and put them on, then went to brush his teeth. Resisting the urge to sniff the toothbrush, he randomly picked one and refused to think about it.

Afterwards he climbed into bed and tried to relax enough to fall asleep. It was futile. Simon got ready for bed as well and Wille respectfully closed his eyes as Simon undressed. He very much would have wanted to look, though. It seemed that not even traveling through time had allowed him to escape his tiny crush. Maybe it wasn’t so tiny anymore.

Simon was still reading in his bed, back leaning against the wall. And Wille couldn’t sleep. There was an electric current buzzing beneath his skin and his thoughts were racing. Finally, he was desperate enough to ask, “Can I, uhm, come over for a bit?" He hated how small and pathetic he sounded. "I just… my brain won't shut up and I… Maybe it would help if I—"

"Okay," Simon said.

Wille propped himself up onto his elbows. "Really?"

A cute little smile pulled on Simon's lips. "Yes, really. I… Some company would be nice."

Heart thudding softly, Wille grabbed his duvet and padded over to the other side of the room. Simon scooted to the head of the bed, making room for him. "Okay if I keep reading for a bit?" Simon asked. "I kind of need the distraction."

"Of course," Wille said as he lowered onto the mattress. He was too exhausted for sitting, so he laid his head next to Simon's thigh, pulled up his knees and curled into a ball, drawing the duvet over his shoulder. He could already feel the comfort of Simon's presence soothing his frayed nerves. "This okay?" he asked as he closed his eyes.

Simon hummed in response. The sound of the rustling book pages and Simon's breathing slowly lulled Wille into a near-sleep state. His body finally stopped buzzing and his limbs grew heavy. He knew he should probably get up and go to his own bed. He tried to move, but he couldn't. Maybe he would wake up and all of this would turn out to have been a dream—the initiation, the dark woods, the cold, the fucked-up time travel shit—and the hand that gently stroked over his hair right as he drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Wille

"No."

Wille closed the last button of his blazer and looked over to where Simon was studying his reflection with a comical expression on his face. "What?" Wille asked.

Simon turned and gestured at his purple paisley shirt and the flared orange pants. "This. I can't go to the stupid ball like this. I look absolutely fucking ridiculous."

He kind of did and Wille couldn't help a grin. The glare in Simon's eyes made him suppress it and hasten to say, "No, you don't. I think you look cute." The words had already left his lips before they registered with his brain. His cheeks warmed.

Simon's lips parted slightly as if he was going to say something, before they pulled into a big, slightly bashful smile. Encouraged and, to be honest, more than a little charmed by Simon's adorable reaction, Wille added, "The purple looks really good on you."

Even though he was clearly trying to fight it, the smile on Simon's face widened even more. Wille's heart bounced against his ribs. Fuck, he really wanted to kiss Simon again. He wondered if he could just walk over there. Take Simon's face into his hands, tilt back his head and just—

"I mean, you're kinda pulling that corduroy off," Simon said, interrupting Wille's thoughts.

Wille probably blushed even further as he glanced down the brown suit he'd found in his (or Folke's) closet. "You think?" he asked skeptically, tugging on one of the pant legs that almost completely covered his foot with how flared it was.

Simon dragged his gaze over him, then tilted his head to the side. "Yeah," he said, and grinned.

Wille wasn't sure if he was joking. Or flirting. Was this flirting? There had been a few moments like this, since the kiss, where he had felt like they were. They hadn't mentioned the kissing itself, though. And Wille supposed being stuck in the wrong century and desperately trying to figure out how to get back to their own probably wasn't the best time to talk about it. Figure out what they were. What they wanted to be. But… there had been moments. Glances. Jokes. Simon's hand casually grazing Wille's back when Wille had been brushing his teeth. Dreams… Day dreams. Night dreams. Because despite everything, Wille knew one thing—he really wanted to kiss Simon again.

The sound of obnoxiously loud voices approaching their door prevented Wille from taking a step forward.

"You guys coming?" Mikael asked, sticking his head through the door.

"Yep," Wille said, running a hand through his hair. His heart was racing and he felt caught, even though he hadn't actually done anything.

With a pained groan, Simon grabbed his orange suit jacket and shrugged it on. Wille didn't know where he got the courage to briefly touch his hand to Simon's upper arm as he passed and give him a little encouraging squeeze. He was rewarded with an over-the-shoulder smile that made his knees feel weak and it took a deep, calming breath before he was able to follow Simon into the hallway.

The makeshift ballroom was already pretty crowded and thick with smoke when they reached it. A large disco ball was dangling from the ceiling and loud music was blaring from the speakers that Wille was pretty sure he'd heard on his parents' old records. It was an unwelcome reminder of the fact that they weren't here for fun, but to make sure Stina and Ludde finally got together so he and Simon could go back to modern day Hillerska. As if on cue, Stina floated into the room, her arm linked with… her boyfriend's. Fuck. So their letter hadn't worked. Of course it hadn't.

"Fuck!" Simon cursed next to him.

Wille's heart sank. What if it was impossible? What if this wasn't even what they needed to do to get back? What if there was no 'back'?

They watched Stina's minions flock around her and Wille could sense Simon deflate next to him. Which made him realize how much he'd relied on Simon's strength and his pragmatism in this whole surreal chaos. The air of quiet optimism that had surrounded Simon over these past couple of weeks was suddenly gone. Instead, Wille watched him press his lips together and lower his gaze to the floor.

"Come," he murmured into Simon's ear and pulled him out of the main room, leading him into a somewhat quiet corner.

They stood in silence for a moment. Simon heaved a deep breath and his eyes shimmered in the dim light. "It's going to be alright," Wille said, trying to convey a confidence he wasn't feeling. "We'll find a way."

Simon swallowed and nodded. "I just… I mean, I get why she thinks that guy is more interesting than stoner Ludde. I really do. Sorry," he added, apparently realizing that he was kind of shit-talking Wille's dad.

"Don't worry," Wille said. Unfortunately, he agreed.

"What if we don't make it back? What happens to Sara and mamá?" Simon rushed out. "I can't just… leave them. They…" He pressed his lips together and averted his gaze.

Wille's chest clenched. "Hey," he said softly and without overthinking it reached for Simon's hand. "We'll get back. We will." He didn't sound particularly convincing to his own ears. Still, Simon met his gaze, eyes wide and definitely swimming with tears he was holding back.

Wille nodded, as if to emphasize his point and suddenly he found himself being hauled into a hug. Heart hammering against his ribs, he looped his arms around Simon and squeezed him tightly. "We'll be okay," he murmured into his hair, for both of them.

With a sniff, Simon stepped back. He rolled his shoulders and pushed out his chin. "Okay. Let's go and… break them up or something, I guess."

Wille chuckled, "That's the spirit."

To his relief, Simon replied with a small smile. "I guess."

Wille laughed and this time, Simon joined in, before turning around and marching back towards the ball.

For about an hour, they tried to pretend they were enjoying the party just like their schoolmates, all the while keeping eyes on Stina and Ludde. To Wille's surprise, Ludde apparently liked to dance. He was terrible at it but weirdly enthusiastic. A few times, it almost looked like he was trying to get closer to Stina. But her stupid hunk of a boyfriend worked too effectively as a shield.

When Stina eventually dragged her date off the dance floor, Wille and Simon waited a bit, then followed the pair outside at a respectful distance. Motorcycle dude and Stina walked along the building for a bit, then stopped. Wille averted his gaze and fought a wave of nausea when he had to witness them exchanging a kiss. A small gasp from Simon made him look back over. He witnessed Stina taking something out of her boyfriend's palm and turning it in her hand.

"What is that?" he whispered to Simon.

"No idea."

Something glinted in the dark when Stina turned it in her fingers. Then suddenly, several things happened. First, Stina bent down over her hand, then took whatever was in there and held it up to her boyfriend's face. Her voice turned loud and angry and her boyfriend replied in an exasperated tone. Wille couldn't make out a single word, but those two were clearly having a fight. It was over surprisingly quickly, with motorcycle guy angrily stomping down the stairs, and Stina yelling something after him that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck you, asshole!"

Before Wille was able to recover from his shock, Simon pulled him back, just in time for Stina to come rushing past them and disappear around the corner of the building.

"Fuck," Wille managed to get out. "What… did they just… break up?" His pulse picked up speed.

"I… Maybe? Yes? I don't know!" Simon looked from where Stina's boyfriend had disappeared to where Stina had run. "I… I'm gonna go after her," he said, already walking.

"To do what exactly?" Wille called after him.

"I don't know. I'll… figure something out!" Simon shrugged. "Go talk to your dad!" he said and vanished around the corner.

"Good luck!" Wille's voice got lost in the night.

He remained rooted to his spot for a moment, his mind racing. Maybe this finally was the chance they'd been waiting for. He would go inside, find Ludde and… somehow convince him he had a shot with Stina.

It took him a while until he'd finally plowed his way through the crowd towards where Ludde was miraculously still dancing. His face was covered in a light sheen of sweat and Wille tried to ignore the sweat stains on his silk shirt. At least he didn't seem to be stoned for once. He grinned when he recognized Wille and beckoned him closer, basically forcing Wille to dance with him for a bit, until he managed to convince Ludde to go get a drink.

"Phew," Ludde huffed, wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and flopped into a chair, then threw back the contents of his glass. Wille offered him his own drink and with a smile, Ludde accepted.

"So, uhm, having fun?" Wille asked.

Ludde shrugged. "It's alright. Last year was better."

Wille nodded and cursed inwardly. Why was this guy making things so fucking difficult? "Uh, did Stina ever find out that you wrote that letter?" he asked casually.

Ludde gave a shrug that seemed a little too indifferent. "No."

Wille hesitated, then decided to go all in. What did they have to lose? "Maybe you should tell her. I saw her outside earlier. She seemed… sad."

Ludde frowned. "Doesn't she have a date?"

Wille shook his head. "Not anymore, I think. I think… she could use a friend. Somebody who really understands her and sees her, you know? Somebody who's different from everyone else in there." He almost physically cringed at himself. But it seemed to have worked, because Ludde had visibly perked up.

"I mean, I guess I could ask her for a dance. And then maybe reveal myself later as the letter author."

Wille bit his tongue and hummed in what he hoped was an encouraging tone. He really, really hoped that Ludde wouldn't put his foot in his mouth and ruin this whole thing.

"Okay then. Thanks man," Ludde said, got to his feet and slapped a hand on Wille's shoulder. "I'll go and find her."

Fighting down the panic swirling in his stomach, Wille watched his father melt into the crowd.

Simon

Simon found Stina on an otherwise empty window sill, legs tucked underneath her, long blue dress reaching just over her feet. She wasn't crying, contrary to what Simon had expected. Instead, she looked kind of pensive, her gaze wandering periodically out to the dark evening sky.

She turned around when one of Simon's steps caused the wooden floor to creak.

"What do you want?"

Okay, maybe she was more upset than her calm, graceful demeanor had suggested. Or she simply was not a fan of anyone intruding on her alone time. Which Simon could kind of understand. From what he'd seen while trying to get closer to her over the past weeks, she didn't really get much of it, somebody always trying to capture her attention and/or favor. He wondered where the flock of girls usually so quick to fawn over her every utterance were now.

"Hi", he said, his voice coming out a bit more timid than he liked. Some snooty future queen was not going to intimidate him, no matter how biting she could be with just a few words.

"I just thought I'd come check on you", he tried again, more confidently this time. "It looked like you weren't having the best night."

"And you are…?"

She still sounded skeptical and a little standoffish. But to Simon's relief, there was some genuine curiosity mixed into her question.

"Lars", he supplied, glad to have remembered his borrowed name. "We're in choir together."

It wasn't a lie. He had joined the choir just last week, figuring that sharing an extracurricular with Stina couldn't hurt his attempt at getting close to her. The excited glimmer in Wille's eyes when he'd told him about this plan might've helped with his resolution, too.

"Oh." For a brief moment, Stina seemed to be rifling through faces in her mind. Simon was fairly sure the flicker of recognition that crossed her face a moment later was merely a good display of her acting skills. "Right."

If this had just been about Simon, he might've left it at that for the time being, content with trying again another time, when Stina hadn't just very clearly been in an argument with her boyfriend. But this was about Wille, and Simon had no way of telling how much longer they had to get his parents together before he'd start noticing something. He'd felt lightheaded at breakfast this morning. What if those were the first signs of him… dissolving or whatever?

Simon couldn't risk that. And so, he had to bank it all on this moment, the rare opportunity of getting the most sought after girl in school alone.

Pushing past the flutter of nerves in his stomach—okay fuck it, she was intimidating—he nodded toward the free space to Stina's left.

"Mind if I sit?"

Her gaze wandered to the wood of the window sill, then back to him. Then, miraculously, she shrugged.

"Sure, why not."

With a heart that was beating slightly harder than usual, Simon crossed the space to slide onto the sleek wood next to her. He remained there silently for a few moments, shoulders drawn as he waited for her to be the first to say something. When she didn't, he gave himself another push.

"So, what did your boyfriend do for you to be sitting here instead of having a fun time in there?"

The startled noise Stina let out sounded suspiciously close to a bitter laugh.

"You mean that loser, Victor Sköld? He's not my boyfriend."

"I see." So far, so good, Simon thought to himself. At least they wouldn't have to break up an actual relationship anymore.

"He seems like a bit of a jerk if you ask me", he added, just to be absolutely sure they were on the same page here.

"Oh, he definitely is."

Simon had to scramble to bite back a surprised giggle at the very un-royal grunt that came out of Stina the next moment.

"He couldn't even be bothered to check if some other girl's name might be engraved in the jewelry he gave me."

For demonstrative purposes, she held out her hand to Simon, revealing a slim gold bangle, the inside of which bore the name "Lottie".

"I bet he snatched it from her house. As if he could impress me with any of this cheap shit."

Biting back a comment on not everyone exactly having the money to buy their girlfriend expensive 'shit', Simon let out an acknowledging hum instead.

"What a fucking dumbass."

To his surprise, Stina's chuckle actually sounded a little bit amused.

"He is a fucking dumbass. I honestly can't believe I let him take me to the ball tonight. It's not like I didn't get better offers. One of those silly letters was halfway decent, even."

"Do you know who wrote it?" Simon asked, trying not to sound too much like he was holding his breath in anticipation.

"Not really. I didn't bother trying to find out. It was signed with an 'L', though, so that does limit the options a bit."

"Well", Simon told her, hoping to god he actually sounded as casual as he wanted to. "No time like the present to find out, right? Just because Victor didn't know how to treat you right, doesn't mean there isn't someone else out there who does."

To his delight, Simon watched intrigue mix into the resignation on Stina's face. Intrigue that quickly morphed into… realization? Could she have actually just guessed that the letter had been from Ludde? It couldn't possibly be that easy.

"So", Stina was saying, the same confident look from that first day suddenly back in her eyes. There was something else there, too, though. Something… playful?

"You think there's someone out there for me, Lars?"

Why was she putting so much emphasis on Simon's fake name? And how come she was suddenly sitting so much closer than before? When had she started moving her hand?

It was just about to come into contact with Simon's thigh, when realization hit Simon.

"Oh god, no. I didn't mean me!"

Maybe it wasn't the nicest way to let her down, but good god. The future queen of Sweden, no, Wille's mother coming onto him had not been on his bingo card for… ever, really. And he'd have been quite happy if it had stayed that way.

"Oh." For a moment, Stina's forehead lay in furrows, her lips pressed together in a way that looked awfully like a pout. But then, to Simon's utter relief, a kind of reckless curiosity took over her expression again.

"Who did you mean, then?"

"Well…"

Okay, there was no turning back now. If Simon wanted her to even consider Wille's dad, he had to drop his name now, as hard as it was for him to imagine her being excited over the reveal.

"I heard from one of Ludde's friends that he wrote you a poem. Something about you saving each others' lives?"

It was truly astonishing to Simon, the way Stina's face actually lit up at that.

"Really? Ludde? That quiet boy from chess club?"

Chess club? Jesus, Wille's dad really was a colossal drag. Then again, Simon figured it was still better than the stamp collection Wille had told him about.

"Exactly. He's been crazy about you for months. I hear he was pretty heartbroken when you showed up with Victor."

In secret bewilderment, Simon watched as Stina pressed her bright pink lips together in thought, before a smile broke out on them.

"Do you know if he's still at the ball?"

Scrambling to hide his surprise, Simon said, "I think so, yeah. I saw him by, uh, by the dessert table earlier."

God, Simon hoped that Wille had managed to find his dad and talk to him by now. He truly wasn't too confident about Stina's current level of enthusiasm holding for very long.

"You should go talk to him", he offered, and by the time she'd hopped off the windowsill, he knew the final nail had just hit wood.

"I will. Thank you, Lars."

And with that, and an unexpected squeeze to his knee, she was off.

"I can't believe we did it."

Wille's eyes were sparkling beautifully in the light bouncing off the disco ball, the incredulous grin on his lips lighting up his face even more. Simon had no way of toning down his own idiotic grin under these circumstances.

"I know, right? It's a miracle."

It was a miracle, for Stina and Ludde to currently be slowdancing to Somebody to Love, swaying arm in arm with their faces getting suspiciously closer by the second. The latter was probably the reason Wille was demonstratively clearing his throat at that moment, causing Simon's gaze to wander back onto him.

"We're a good team", he said, and Simon felt his own smile soften at that.

"We are." Feeling like his heart might start actually beating out of his chest if he kept smiling at Wille like this, Simon hurried to add, "Although your mum almost tried to get me on her team, before I told her about the letter being Ludde's."

"Get you on her–" Wille started, then realization seemed to kick in and he made a retching sound. "Eww, oh god, no. Why would you tell me that?"

'Because it was either this or kiss you again right here in front of everyone', Simon thought. Out loud, he said, "I don't know. I just think it's funny."

"Well, I don't."

And well, maybe this was mostly still about Wille not wanting to picture his mother flirting. But Simon was almost positive there was something else to his tone, too, something almost… possessive? His impression was only strengthened when after watching him thoughtfully for a couple of seconds, Wille suddenly held out his hand to him.

"I do think I'd love to dance with you, though."

It took Simon a moment to fully absorb what was happening, the butterflies in his chest swirling uncontrollably while his head was trying to remind him they were still in the middle of the 70s, with an entire, probably not all too progressive student body around.

"Here?" he finally got out, hoping Wille would take the breathiness of his voice as a sign of suppressed longing rather than nerves.

Wille watched him intently, his jaw tightening briefly before he seemed to come to a decision. His features softening into a close-mouthed smile, he said, "Right here. If you'd do me the honor?"

And fuck it. How could Simon possibly deny an offer like that, when everything inside of him wanted to scream that he'd gladly do Wille any honor he could possibly want? That his entire body was buzzing with the need to slide his fingers in between Wille's and pull him close and finally repeat that absolute stunner of a kiss from the other day. Tenfold, if it was up to him.

"I'd love to", he somehow got out, and then his palm was sliding into Wille's open one, fingers squeezing tightly for a moment as they closed around it.

The music had changed to another ballad, though Simon didn't have the mental space to care or even recognize it. All he wanted to focus on, all he could focus on, was Wille's hand on his hip, and his other hand keeping Simon's palm pressed to his chest, and his warm breath brushing gently against Simon's temple.

"You know", he was saying into Simon's ear now, warm and low as they kept softly swaying on their feet in time with the music, "as far as going back in time goes, I'm glad I got to do it with you."

Simon felt his breathing stop, air briefly suspended in his lungs, before he let it out in a shaky exhale.

"Me, too", he replied, a whisper more than anything. "There's nobody else I would've rather done this with."

"Simon–"

One moment, Wille was drawing his head back far enough to look down into his eyes, warm and intense and a little bit nervous. The next, the room was spinning around them, filled by a sudden bright light that made Simon squeeze his eyes shut protectively. When he opened them again, everything was different.

They were back inside the Palace, party lights going off in various colors around them, the room filled with the heavy bass of an EDM song.

"Holy shit", he heard Wille breathe out above him, feeling a hysterical giggle climb up the inside of his throat.

"We did it", he whispered equally breathlessly. "Holy fuck, we–"

The rest of his sentence got stuck at the back of his mouth when Simon felt the unmistakable prickle of several eyes watching him. And really, when he threw a brief look around, he found that several of their classmates – thank fuck, they were back with their actual, twenty-first century classmates! – were unashamedly ogling him and Wille. Which, he realized a moment later, probably had to do with the fact that they were still standing very close together with their arms wrapped around one another.

Wille seemed to come to the same conclusion simultaneously. Unlike Simon would've expected, though, he made no move to let go of Simon's hip, or his hand, and he also was back to looking right into his eyes again.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, if that's okay?" he asked softly, and before Simon could get himself to form a verbal reply, his mouth was meeting Wille's halfway. Fuck, he'd been missing out for however many days had gone by since their last kiss. Wille's lips were still as soft as the last time against his, except he was kissing Simon more decidedly now, which only caused the sparks of electricity zipping up and down Simon's spine to increase in intensity. He didn't think he'd ever want to stop kissing Wille again, not for the sake of their nosy classmates, or to check how much time had passed since they'd vanished, or to eliminate the risk of Sara giving him shit for making out with the prince of all people in the middle of a crowded dance floor.

No, Simon wanted to stay in this moment forever, feel Wille's palm cupping his cheek, bask in the warmth and the affection and somehow know, deep at the very core of his heart, that now that they'd left the past behind, this was only the beginning of their future together.