Start a Riot, Chapter 9. PG-13, Wille/Simon, romance/drama, directly post-S1.
On his first day back to school after the Christmas break, Simon is informed that he's been suspended for two weeks because of his involvement in the video making the rounds on the internet. Now it's up to Wille and his few allies to recruit as many out of the entire population of entitled rich kids at Hillerska as they can to go full Greta to try and pressure the school to reverse this decision before it ruins Simon's future.
Note: Inspired, most recently, by Netflix's Moxie and Sex Education, and a bajillion other teen movies and TV shows out there where high schoolers stage a school strike/walkout/protest against their school.
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"Hey, we did something amazing yesterday," Felice had declared in the group chat on Saturday. "I think we deserve a celebration! I'll arrange it with Housemistress Anna; just leave it all to me." And that is how Sunday evening found Simon, Wilhelm, and the girls taking over the Manor House common room.
Simon sat at the foot of one of the couches, back resting against the edge of the seat. Sara was on the couch directly behind him, with Stella lounging on the other end of the couch. Wille sat sideways directly beside Simon, propping himself up with an elbow on the couch cushions, his long, lanky legs stretched out perpendicularly across Simon's lap. Maddie and Fredrika took up the other couch, with Felice curled up in an armchair like a queen on her throne.
Despite Felice's assurance that she'd figure out the logistics, there hadn't been much of a plan to this "celebration" other than hanging out and goofing off, but as they settled in after dinner, Madison suggested they play a party game she used to play with her friends back in the US. Apparently, it was something like truth or dare, except without the dare part. Or maybe it was more like twenty questions, except not with yes/no answers? Simon wasn't sure, and he had a feeling it was more something Maddie and her friends had just made up themselves.
She called the game "Truth in a jar," and it involved everyone writing down one or more questions on scraps of paper, folding them over, and placing them inside a jar. Then the person whose turn it was would pick one slip of paper out of the jar, read it out loud, and everybody would have to answer the question. If someone didn't want to answer, they could pass, and would usually be required to take a drink. Because they were in the school dormitories, they weren't doing the drink bit (though Simon was highly suspicious of the black-and-teal water bottle Stella had been nursing for a while and refusing to share with anyone), so in essence, they didn't have to answer any questions they felt uncomfortable with.
This suited everyone just fine, so Fredrika promptly pulled out a notebook and a set of colorful gel pens from her purse and started handing blank pages and glittery pens out to everyone. Simon couldn't help but snort when he reached out to grab his and caught a glimpse of a full-page doodle she had drawn on the page she flipped to the back of the spiral-bound notebook. "Does that... does that say 'let them eat cake'?" he asked, incredulous.
Fredrika stared at him for a second like she had no idea what he was talking about, but then seemed to figure it out as she flipped the notebook over and looked at the doodle. "Oh! Yeah, it's a Marie Antoinette quote. Didn't it come out really cool? I used these other pens I have that mix two colors instead of just one."
It did look pretty cool, he had to admit (he didn't know Fredrika could do typography, but then again, he'd never talked to her much before that day). But the artistry of it wasn't really what was giving Simon pause. "Why... would you want to have that quote on your notebook?" he asked, honestly bewildered.
Maddie took a look at the doodle in question over Fredrika's shoulder and snickered. Wille looked between her and Simon curiously, but also almost warily, like he was getting ready to stop an argument should it erupt. Felice watched it all with a relaxed, amused smile.
Fredrika gave him a wide-eyed, confused look. "What?" she asked, shifting her gaze between Simon and the doodle a couple of times. She looked around at her other friends, most of whom were trying really hard not to laugh. "It's a nice sentiment. She was being generous, wasn't she? Offering everyone cake and all."
The fact that she asked that question completely unironically had everybody bursting into giggles. "Yeah, that's not— that's not what that means," Wille pointed out, chuckling, as Simon himself was too busy gasping for air between guffaws to properly point that out to poor Fredrika.
The ditzy brunette pouted. "Why is that so funny? Everybody likes cake," she protested, only succeeding in sending the entire room into a fit.
Stella leaned over Wilhelm's shoulder, addressing Simon directly in a theatrical whisper. "She's really bad at history. Let's just move on," she suggested cheekily, pointedly ignoring the indignant huff her roommate let out at her words.
After a bit more ribbing back and forth, they finally got to writing down their questions. Simon only asked two, and they were pretty general since he didn't know most of the girls well enough to come up with some incisive, fun, more personal questions to make the game more interesting. He was sure he wasn't alone in that, though, as he heard Wille mutter "I'm going to be so bad at this game" to himself more than once. The girls didn't seem to have that problem, with all of them throwing a whole bunch of questions into the glass vase the Housemistress had helpfully procured for them to use as the titular "jar." Fredrika had written down like fifteen questions— "as revenge for making fun of me," she said with a smirk.
It wasn't even particularly hard to tell which questions were whose when they finally started playing. For example, the spicy/crazy ones were Madison's (Simon tended to pass on the spicy ones, as it would be way too obvious that all of his sexual experience was with Wille and people already knew entirely too much about their sex life for him to disclose even more information. Wilhelm wisely did the same, without them even needing to agree on it beforehand). Felice asked insightful questions about their personal and family lives, and their plans for the future. Stella seemed focused on bad exes, for some reason, or bad romantic experiences in general. Fredrika asked about crushes, boyfriends, and celebrities. When "What is your favorite animal and why?" came up, they all knew that one was Sara's.
(Simon was surprised to find out Wille's favorite animal was a frog. There was a story there, he was sure, but Wille didn't offer any more information.)
It was Maddie's turn to pick a question, so she picked a slip of paper out of the jar and grinned to herself as she unfolded it. "Oh, this is a good one," she warned everyone. "What is the thing you least wanted to do that you still did for your crush?" she formulated the question slowly— Simon guessed because she was translating from Swedish— and it prompted a few groans to ring out among the others.
The stories that came up in response were as varied as the girls themselves. Maddie's involved drinking some asinine alcohol concoction that left her puking her guts out for three days straight. Felice had gone to some stuffy high-society party full of old people and then promptly been ditched by the crush in question. Stella was still quite upset about dumbing herself down for some boy.
Sara had brought up the time she stood in line for hours, outdoors, on the coldest winter day in Linköping in nearly a decade, in an attempt to score VIP concert tickets for some boy band she was obsessed with. Simon remembered that day very well, as he'd been standing right there with her, and he didn't even like that band all that much. To this day, he could still feel the cold in his bones.
Then everybody turned to Wille. And while the boy tried valiantly to pretend that he wasn't aware it was his turn to answer, his rapidly reddening cheeks betrayed him. Eventually, he groaned loudly, burying his face in the fabric of the couch upholstery. There was silence for a heartbeat as everyone waited for him to 'fess up, and when it came, it was just one word: "...Rowing."
Madison swallowed back a giggle. Fredrika actually squealed. Felice let out a surprised "Really!"
Simon's eyebrows arched high in his forehead in surprise at the unexpected revelation. "Wait. Like, rowing now, rowing?" he asked, just to clarify for the record that the crush Wille was referring to was him and not someone else. He knew Wille had done some rowing before coming to Hillerska, so he couldn't be completely certain, but the way Wille was acting certainly made it seem like he was talking about Simon.
Wilhelm let out a huff. "...Yes..." The word was muffled by the couch cushions. He sounded so resigned that everybody laughed. Finally, he pulled his face back away from the furniture and clumsily attempted to explain, tips of his ears as red as a stoplight. "Like, initially I started rowing because Erik— you know— but honestly I would've quit a long time ago if it weren't for..." He awkwardly gestured in Simon's direction, resolutely avoiding Simon's surprised and amused gaze— as well as everyone else's.
"Had he told you about this?" Madison asked Simon, curious.
Simon searched Wille's face. If he truly was mortified about this, Simon would do his best to steer the conversation in a different direction. But although Wille still looked like he was a second away from spontaneously combusting, his shoulders were shaking with laughter, and when he finally did meet Simon's gaze, he gave him a sheepish but fond smile.
Simon took that as a go-ahead. "First time I'm hearing of it," he told the girls with his hands raised at his sides innocently, prompting them to dissolve into cackles. And though he was playing it up for laughs, it was the truth: Wille had never mentioned it, even during rowing practice, and now that the season was over, it was even less likely to come up.
Fredrika sighed dramatically. "I wish someone would love me enough to practice a sport they hate for me."
Felice flung a throw pillow at her, hitting her straight on and causing the headband she was wearing to end up skewed sideways on her head. Stella laughed. "I pity the poor boy who takes up horseriding to impress you. Daisy will kick any male specimen who comes within a few feet of her right in the 'nads."
"That's true," Fredrika conceded with a pout as she fixed her hair, and Simon made a mental note never to come anywhere near Fredrika's mare. "It's so romantic, though...!"
"Okay, okay," Wille interrupted, still adorably flushed. He waved his arms as if trying to erase everything that was said since the last question was asked. "I've said my piece; my turn is done. Can we keep going now? Who's next?"
Unfortunately for the blond boy, it was Simon's turn to answer, and he took his sweet, sweet time deciding whether or not he should continue teasing Wille (he just made it too easy!) or be a little more serious with his response. Subjected to his maybe-boyfriend's (is that what they were? They had to have that talk, but it had only been two days since they got back together so they hadn't gotten around to it) big, begging puppy eyes, Simon decided to cut him a break.
"I can't give you any details," he started carefully, keenly feeling Wille's eyes on him, "but I'm gonna say... getting woken up at two in the morning and having to bike all the way to the Bjärstad football field in the middle of an utterly frigid night."
"Ah," Sara gasped, putting two and two together. "Is that what that was?" Simon quickly turned to give her a sharp shake of the head, signaling for her not to say anything else. She seemed to get it because she didn't ask anything else.
Madison caught the gesture and groaned. "Oh, come on! You can't just say something that vague and not explain any further," she complained.
Simon snickered, shrugging. "Sorry. If I tell you anything else, the Royal Guards may need to kill you." The girls laughed. Wille gave him a quick, grateful smile, but he needn't have bothered. It's not like Simon was eager to share, himself. Enough of that night had already been desecrated by the unwanted attention of the world; he wanted them to be able to keep the few private moments they had left of it to themselves.
Questions kept going around, the mood light and buoyant for the next few turns. Simon was kind of surprised by it, honestly. He hadn't been sure what to expect when Wille mentioned that Felice had proposed this little "victory get-together" over group chat (he wasn't even in the group chat at that point, so that alone said something about how included he felt). He was game for it, sure, mainly to spend more time with his sister and Wille, and Madison was always cool to talk to, but he had never interacted much with the others, and wasn't that something of a stereotype, anyway, inviting the gay friend to the all-girl sleepover?
But these girls had risked getting punished by the school to help him when they didn't have to, so he felt he owed them at least the benefit of the doubt. Even if he was more the type to normally spend his weekends playing Call of Duty with Ayub or watching a movie with his mother rather than gossiping about boys with Felice's friends.
And he was having fun, he had to admit; sure, they could be a little shallow and entitled, but it was nice to just chill and joke around with different people every once in a while. And Sara trusted these girls. And Wille could use more friends at school. So, really, he was better off just getting over his hangups and letting them in. They were good people.
Fredrika picked out one more question, "What is the worst way someone has hit on you?" and groans rang out among nearly all the girls.
"I have so many of those, I don't think I can choose just one!" Felice whined. The others commiserated with her so earnestly that they had Simon both chuckling and thanking the universe that he 1) wasn't a girl, and 2) had limited romantic experience, regardless of his gender or sexual orientation.
They jumped into the most awkward, uncomfortable, and sometimes ridiculous experiences they'd had with overly arrogant, misinformed, or even straight-up awful boys who thought they were God's gift to women because they were moderately good-looking and had money. Sometimes, as one of them was speaking, another one would chime in to point out some detail they were unintentionally leaving out, or to remind them of an entirely different encounter they'd had that could also count as a response to the question.
They got so into it, giving three or even four responses each, bandying outraged and amused comments back and forth, that Simon thought they'd never get to him and Wille with the question. Soon enough, though, it was Sara's turn. She thought about it for a little bit— Simon knew sometimes she had trouble recognizing when people were flirting, so he couldn't remember off the top of his head if she'd ever told him about any interactions she found particularly bothersome— and then she shrugged. "I guess when August kissed me in the stables," she said bluntly like everyone had known about it already.
It took a few seconds for what she said to dawn on Simon. When it did, it landed with a thud, however. He turned to look at his sister over his shoulder. "Wait, wait— what?!" he exclaimed. "Sara, what even— When did this happen?"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Felice asked, sounding surprised. "I posted about it on my Insta story when I broke up with August."
"Well, I must've missed it," Simon retorted curtly. "Excuse me if I was a little preoccupied with other things." Which was an understatement if there ever was one. Between becoming a low-level drug dealer, nearly getting expelled from school, and getting outed to the world on a sex tape featuring the Crown Prince of Sweden, Simon had several more pressing matters at the time than keeping up with Felice's social media.
Right away he felt bad for snapping at her, though. It wasn't Felice's fault that he was unaware of this. "Sorry, just—" he half mumbled at her before turning back around to look at his sister. "Sara, what the hell?"
She let out a long-suffering sigh. "Simon, it's fine."
"It's not fine! Who the fuck gives him the right—" He started squirming around in an attempt to get up, but he didn't get very far as he was pinned in place by Wilhelm's legs. "Wille, get off, I have to go murder the bastard—"
"She's got it sorted," Wille assured him, briefly exchanging a look with Sara without pulling his legs off Simon's lap. Okay, this new buddy-buddy thing they had going on was... weird, Simon thought, but he'd get back to that later. He had bigger issues to deal with at the moment. Like finding a way to go look for August and punch his lights out.
"Besides," Wilhelm continued, "we just got you out of a suspension. Don't you go undoing all our hard work now." He sounded like a total smartypants and Simon hated that it made him want to kiss Wille's dumb (adorable) face.
He threw his head back with a resigned huff. "Fine," he conceded reluctantly. It's not like he really wanted to hurt August— he really wasn't a violent kind of guy, and he knew Sara could take care of herself; he was just protective and wanted to make sure the fucking asshole wasn't taking advantage of his sister. He wouldn't be opposed to putting a little bit of fear on the older boy, though; he knew from previous experience that kind of thing worked with August, and since he'd managed to evade any other repercussion anyway... Simon couldn't let him dodge this one.
He twisted around in place so he could look at Sara again. "But you're okay?" he asked, just to make sure.
"I'm fine," she reassured him with a quick, small smile. "It's like Wille said: I dealt with it. It's done now."
He didn't miss Sara calling Wilhelm "Wille" just then, and though he was still confused about how this newly found rapport between the two of them had come about, he had to admit it was nice to see them interacting so smoothly. He knew more than anyone how much Sara struggled to find people she trusted, who would see beyond her neurodivergence. Wilhelm struggled, as well, to find people who were real, who wanted to be near him for him and not just his title. You couldn't get any more real than Sara, and you couldn't get any more considerate than Wille. Perhaps them being friends was a more positive development than Simon first thought it would be.
He poked at Sara's thigh. "Why would you not tell me, though?" he asked, more than a little hurt. Hadn't she just recently been upset at him for not holding up his promise of not keeping secrets from her? Stones and glass houses, Sara, he thought.
She had the decency to look chagrined as she answered, "It's complicated." It was barely noticeable, but Simon knew her better than anyone, so he didn't miss the way she shrunk in on herself, just a little. It made him worry there was more to this than just an errant kiss she didn't want.
"But I will tell you," she added, sincere. "Just... tomorrow."
Simon groaned, narrowing his eyes at her in mock suspicion. "Ah. Is this what it feels like when I do that to you?" he asked teasingly. Sara grinned at him. Oh yeah, she had definitely done that on purpose.
"Boo to August, yay for sibling love!" Madison chimed in, beaming. The rest of them chuckled. "Now, who's next up?"
Simon didn't get his turn until after Wille, and now he felt obligated to end the round on a good note because Wille's answer involved the time some woman in her forties accosted him on the streets— when he was thirteen years old— demanding he put a royal baby in her belly. The crazy lady was promptly taken away by security, thankfully, but it was just another reminder of the dangers children raised in the public eye, and Wilhelm in particular, faced on a daily basis.
Understandably, Wille's story had brought down the collective mood a bit (Simon could see that Wille felt a little bit guilty for that— clearly he hadn't meant it that way, but the question just lent itself to some not-so-fun responses, so nobody really blamed him for it). So Simon racked his brain for a good one that would get everyone back to a more upbeat position. It was only when he thought back to Wille's admission about the rowing team that a funny moment crossed his mind.
He smirked mischievously; he couldn't help it. "Well, one time during rowing practice..." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wille's inquiring gaze turn toward him sharply. Simon's grin widened. The girls, likewise, seemed immediately curious as to where he was taking this; Fredrika actually hugged the couch pillow to her chest and leaned forward as if that would allow her to hear him better.
"...we were basically done for the day, right?" Simon continued, getting more into the story as he recalled the details of that day. "So I was trying to get the boat back to dry land without falling in, as usual." He chuckled to himself; he didn't hate rowing, but he'd be the first person to admit that he was pretty terrible at it.
"And Wille was standing at the dock, so he started giving me some tips— which I do appreciate—" he added for Wille's benefit. "I did need the help." In sneaking a look at the blond boy sitting beside him, he could tell exactly the moment it dawned on Wille which encounter he was talking about. He still didn't know where Simon was going with it, though.
"And then August stopped by with his usual bullshit," Simon sneered with a roll of his eyes. He really hated that, in hindsight, August was so inextricably linked to even the smallest moments between him and Wille. It rankled. "And Wille had to go with him at that point, but before they left..." He paused for suspense. "...he patted me on the shoulder."
Madison let out a howl of laughter so loud that she had to press her face against the backrest of the couch to keep the noise levels down. Sara snorted. The others giggled more quietly. Felice gasped. "Wille!" she exclaimed. "You did not!"
"What?" Wilhelm, wide-eyed, looked at each of them for an explanation of why that was so funny. Finding no takers, he turned to Simon, now looking a little mortified. "What's wrong with that? I was trying to be supportive!"
Simon had to laugh at Wille's genuinely clueless expression. It was cute. "You're kidding, right?" he asked cheekily. "That was the single most 'no homo' moment of my entire life!"
The girls practically screeched at that, almost in unison. Wilhelm gaped at Simon like a fish, and as the laughter rang out around them, Simon could see the bright flush on Wille's face come back with a vengeance. "What— I didn't—" he stammered hopelessly. "That's not what I—" At that point he just outright gave up on defending himself, instead letting out a loud groan and burying his flaming face against Simon's shoulder, which was shaking with mirth.
Simon looked down at this silly, silly boy he absolutely adored, and let himself be hopeful for the first time in weeks. To be clear, Wille still carried the weight of the world— or at least Sweden— on his shoulders, and there were no guarantees that their relationship wouldn't just crash and burn all over again. Though they thankfully had a few more allies now, it was still going to be a constant uphill battle, and there would still be pain along the way.
But when Wille looked up at him sideways, having finally succumbed to the inevitability of laughing at himself, and their gazes met in a gentle, affectionate exchange in plain view of their delighted classmates, Simon had to believe they were, at least, in it together. He had to.
And maybe that was just a pipe dream and he'd just end up getting his heart broken and his spirit left in tatters all over again, but right now, looking into Wille's eyes and feeling the weight of the emotions swirling inside him that only Wille had ever provoked, he couldn't help but think that he'd rather have this than not, no matter how much it hurt along the way.
Maybe that was stupid. Maybe he should know better by now. Maybe he was just setting himself up for disappointment all over again. But it was the only way he knew how to be.
"Oh my God, you two are just too cute," Felice gushed, pulling up her phone and snapping a picture of them. Her thumbs were flying over her phone's virtual keyboard in a fraction of a second. "This needs to go up on Insta..." she muttered, more to herself than to them, as she frantically tapped on her phone screen.
It seemed like her own words and actions only hit her a moment later, and she stopped abruptly, looking up from her phone to give Simon and Wille an apologetic look. "Oh. Sorry, I shouldn't have— I can delete the picture if you want," she offered, recognizing that she hadn't asked if they were okay with any of it before taking a photo of them. Normally this wouldn't be an issue between friends— Simon had done it himself countless times— but given Wille's position, and after everything that happened last term, their situation was a little different, and Simon appreciated that she'd thought of that before posting.
Simon thought Wille might jump at Felice's offer to delete the pic; it had only been one day since his big argument with the Queen, after all, and Simon would understand if Wilhelm didn't want to rock the boat too much, too soon. To his surprise, however, he straightened up and away from Simon's shoulder, and said instead, "Can I see it?"
Felice promptly handed him her phone, and Simon couldn't see from the angle he was sitting in what was on the screen, but he kept a careful eye on Wille's reaction to it. The blond boy stared at the screen for longer than necessary, probably, a soft smile gracing his features. Then he turned back to Felice. "Yeah, you can post it," he said easily, handing the phone back to her. "And tag me, will you?"
That surprised Simon, but if Wille thought it was okay, he wasn't going to argue, at least when it came to this. Wilhelm knew best when it came to the public eye, and he knew best how his mother would react to anything he put out in the public eye. The tag didn't make the effect of the post on Simon any better or any worse. Simon had set his Instagram account to private back when the sex tape mess happened in December, which is why he only shrugged when Felice asked him if he was also okay with her tagging him.
"Okay, done!" Felice said once she hit post, and she was about to hand the phone back to them so they could look at the result when a knock on the doorframe interrupted her.
"It's almost lights out," Housemistress Anna chimed in, poking her head into the common room. "Boys, time to start heading back to your dormitory."
So they started picking up after themselves, moving the furniture back where it was always supposed to be. Maddie said she would keep the leftover questions and save them "for next time," and Simon was, quite unexpectedly, looking forward to it. It had been really fun, hanging out with the girls. He'd love to do this again.
Afterward, Simon and Wille, trailed by Wille's bodyguard Sören, made their way across campus toward Forest Ridge, chatting animatedly about their evening. "I still don't know how to feel about you and Sara being best friends all of a sudden, by the way," Simon said, amused, as they walked into the building.
Wilhelm made a face. "I'd hardly say we're best friends," he said as he led Simon to the Housemaster's quarters to check in. "But it's good, isn't it? Better than when she hated me, I guess." He shrugged. "She's your sister. I want her to like me."
"That's sweet," Simon said with a chuckle. "I feel like I should warn you, though: if you really want to be friends with her, it's not a one-and-done thing. You'll have to keep working for it." He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. "She's very high maintenance."
"Oh, yeah?" Wille laughed. "I'm gonna tell her you said that."
"Ah, so it starts," Simon quipped as Wilhelm informed Housemaster Göran of Simon's arrival. Simon was being annoying about the Sara thing because he liked teasing Wille, mostly, but the truth was, the more he thought about Wilhelm and Sara being friends, the more he warmed up to the idea. His family and Wille were the two most important things in his life, and he wanted them to get along. It was so important to him that they did.
The housemaster met up with them outside Wilhelm's room, handing Simon a warmer blanket for the extra bed they were 100% not going to use. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay elsewhere, Mr. Eriksson?" the man asked knowingly. "There are empty single rooms upstairs if you'd prefer that. You'd have the whole space to yourself, and there would be no need to inconvenience the Crown Prince."
"That really won't be necessary, Housemaster," Wille intervened instead in his best "public relations" voice. He had what Simon had come to think of as his "practical" smile on. It was the smile he put on for press photos or to make small talk with stuffy high-society types: a smile that was perfectly polite and serviceable but also did not reach his eyes. "Simon has said he doesn't mind sharing, and I've got a perfectly good extra bed in my room. It's not an inconvenience at all."
"Right," Simon agreed. "I don't need a whole room to myself." He smiled at the housemaster in what he hoped was a beatific manner. "I have a note from my mom if you'd like to see it," he added, trying really, really hard not to burst into giggles. Behind him, he heard Wille only half manage to stifle a snort.
This whole situation was just so absurd. Simon wasn't allowed to bunk with his sister because... heteronormativity or something, so he had to stay at Forest Ridge per the school rules. But at the same time, everyone knew he and Wille weren't just two bros innocently sharing a room (no homo), so the administration didn't know how to handle such a circumstance. They couldn't outright refuse to let him stay, because that would be discrimination on the basis of his sexual orientation (and probably gender discrimination, too, since Sara had been allowed to stay with Felice and Maddie last term and no one even blinked at that).
Considering the school had just barely avoided an all-out student revolt due to, in part, discriminatory practices against Simon, he couldn't imagine they were eager for a repeat performance anytime soon. Plus, no one was about to bring up the sex tape in front of the Crown Prince after he'd already denied any involvement with it, so the administration had no choice but to let it go. They just didn't have to like it.
Clearly, the housemaster wasn't buying Simon's innocent act, because he narrowed his eyes at them. "That's all right, Mr. Eriksson," he muttered in a monotone. The man's gaze shifted from the two of them to Sören, who was standing at the back, as if expecting Sören to be the responsible adult and put a stop to this "nonsense." Thankfully, babysitting the prince was not in Sören's job description, so Sören's only response was to stare back at the man with a perfectly professional, stony expression.
The housemaster sighed. "Very well," he said tersely. "Just allow me to remind you that there is a strict code of conduct to be adhered to while at the school dormitories." He was clearly not happy he even was required to say this. "Please do not make it necessary for the administration to have to intervene to uphold those rules."
Simon frowned. Did the housemaster seriously think they would just jump each other the second Wille's door closed? Because: 1) that was one time; 2) once again, they were far from the only students to have ever had sex on school grounds; and 3) they weren't even going to go there that night, anyway.
He and Wille had talked about it, actually, the night before, when Wille told him of Felice's "victory party" idea and suggested Simon spend the night in Wille's dorm instead of making his mother drive all the way to Hillerska in the middle of the night to pick him up. Simon didn't mind staying with Wille (the housemaster's side-eye notwithstanding), but they had both agreed that it might feel a little bit weird to do anything in the same place where they were recorded and exposed to the world just a few weeks ago.
They had only just found their way back to each other after several agonizing weeks apart. They did want to spend as much time together as they could, but maybe that time together didn't have to involve sex just yet. Not that night, at least; not in that room. They didn't know how they might feel in the moment, but they didn't want to risk it feeling off and making things awkward or uncomfortable, so they agreed to just remove the pressure and take it off the table for that night. It felt too soon.
The housemaster didn't know that, of course, but that didn't mean he was allowed to make creepy assumptions about their relationship or their sex life, for fuck's sake. Simon was about to make an incisive comment when he felt Wille's hand at his elbow, almost like he was physically pulling him back.
"We'll make sure of that, Housemaster," Wilhelm said, in a far more diplomatic manner than Simon would have.
"Very well," Housemaster Göran acquiesced, still sounding reluctant. He turned to go back to his quarters but paused halfway through the motion. "Oh, and Your Highness," he said, addressing Wilhelm again, "you might want to keep your drapes closed."
"Will do, Housemaster," Wille replied in the exact same tone as before, which the housemaster seemed to think was agreeable enough. He nodded at them (Simon guessed that was his version of a parting greeting), then turned around to go back the way he came.
As soon as the man turned the corner and went out of sight, Simon and Wilhelm exchanged a glance and burst into laughter in unison. With a quick "Good night" at Sören, they made their way into Wille's room, still giggling at the sheer ludicrousness of the conversation they just had.
Simon dropped his bag at the foot of Wille's bed while Wille went to close the drapes on both windows. Not because Housemaster Göran asked him to, but just because it was a good idea regardless. They weren't going to risk it, even if they didn't plan to do anything inappropriate in the room. Anyone could just walk by, and neither of them trusted the new security measures.
At some point during the break, the school had installed security cameras outside the dormitories just to say that they were doing something. Their intentions were good, and the idea made sense on paper, but the system wasn't particularly sophisticated, and Simon didn't see how the cameras would be of any use when they could be beaten by a hoodie. It might give pause to any gangs of thugs in clown masks looking to break in and kidnap and torture a prince of Sweden, perhaps, but other than that, there was little point to it. So they were going to keep the drapes closed, regardless.
While Wille took care of that, Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked up Felice's Instagram.
The first picture that greeted him on her feed was a picture of him and Wille, cropped a lot closer than he thought it would be given the distance at which Felice had been sitting from them when she took it. Of course Felice would have the fanciest phone with the best camera quality in the market.
Wille's forehead was pressed against Simon's shoulder, his chin turned slightly to the side so the camera caught about three-quarters of his face. He was looking up at Simon, his brown eyes gleaming almost golden thanks to the Insta filter Felice had applied to it, even through the curtain of his bangs, which fell intermittently over one side of his face. His cheeks were flushed, and a closed-lipped, somewhat chagrined but wide and genuine smile graced his features.
Simon, meanwhile, was seen from the forehead down, dark curls just peeking in from the edges of the pic. His face was turned to the side so only his profile could be seen as he met Wille's gaze adoringly, and he was grinning openly, clearly caught mid-laugh. This may have been his bias speaking, but he thought the photo looked almost intimate, like a posed studio photo taken by a professional photographer. The dreamy filter probably just added to the effect. The caption read "If we fight this fight together, we can win kronprinswilhelm simon_simme99," followed by an emoji of the victory hand sign.
The like and comment counts were racking up, he knew, but Simon could not tear his eyes away from the photo. He'd been curious earlier, certainly, but the truth was, he hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of emotions that would flood his soul at seeing a picture of himself and Wille being openly affectionate with each other, not in secret or released clandestinely but proudly, the depth of their bond out there for the entire world to see.
He could understand, of course, how on paper it could all be explained away as perfectly platonic. Two good friends having fun, caught in a candid occasion. But then he focused on the way their gazes came together almost magnetically, the sheer joy and softness of the moment captured in a single second, and he couldn't imagine how anyone out there could look at that picture and not see love in every pixel. It took his breath away.
Wilhelm came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Simon's waist and resting his chin on Simon's shoulder. "It's a nice picture, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," Simon agreed, his response coming out more like a sigh. He swallowed heavily; his throat had gone dry. He lifted his gaze from the screen, turning his head so he could look at Wille. "Thank you," he whispered fervently.
Wille chuckled, the small resultant tremor reverberating through Simon where his body and Wilhelm's were pressed close together. "It's just an Instagram post," Wille said like their real connection finally getting on main was just something that happened every day.
Simon shook his head, his cheek brushing against Wille's with the motion. "No, it's more than that," he countered.
He turned around in Wille's arms, moving his own to rest around Wille's torso, his hands lightly stroking Wille's sides. He looked up at his boy, peering deeply into those warm brown eyes he was absolutely gone for, and finally— finally— said the words that had been threatening to burst out of him for over a month: "I love you, Wille."
Wille's smile froze when Simon said it, slowly morphing into an astonished expression in the pregnant silence that ensued. He was looking at Simon in a way that had become familiar to Simon by now. A kind of intense, layered stare that made Simon's heart both soar and break at the same time: Soar, because he gazed at Simon like Simon had hung the moon, like he was the center of his universe. Break, because he looked like he couldn't understand how, couldn't believe, someone would say those words to him.
Simon let him process the words as needed, holding his gaze so there would be no doubt that he meant what he said, that he meant to say it, that he wasn't just saying it because it's what Wilhelm wanted to hear. He could almost see in Wille's eyes that he was running through all those possibilities in his mind, overthinking every movement, every gesture. He wanted to make sure that Wille knew he was here, he wasn't going anywhere, he wasn't taking anything back.
That's not to say he wasn't feeling nervous himself; his heart was beating like crazy inside his chest. It's not like it was some brand-new revelation: Wille had said it first, anyway, and it was easy enough for Simon to use the word "love" in his inner monologue— had recognized his feelings for Wille for what they were a while back. But he wasn't the type of guy who threw those words around like they were nothing; there was an inherent sense of vulnerability in loving someone, but with Wille, there was no holding back that feeling, no locking it up inside to keep himself safe and detached. He couldn't. And he didn't want to, honestly; especially not after this week.
So he waited for Wille to say something, carefully ignoring the furious drumbeat inside his ribcage. He waited until Wille seemed to start breathing again, shakily letting the air out of his lungs and lifting his hands to cradle Simon's face. "I love you, too," he finally said, his voice full of wonder. Then he threw his arms around Simon's shoulders and clung to him impossibly tight, prompting Simon to close his eyes and bury his nose against the soft, probably expensive wool of Wille's sweater.
"I love you so much," Wille said again, almost in a gasp, and then he was pulling back and pressing his lips against Simon's desperately, fiercely, and Simon would have it no other way, giving back as enthusiastically as he was getting.
They kissed and kissed and kissed, pulling each other as close as humanly possible as they tangled together, breathing into each other's mouths. But close did not feel close enough, and though in the back of his mind Simon could distantly recall they'd agreed to keep the physical off the table for the night, it was like an abstract concept now as he felt like the entire world was reduced to just the two of them, and Simon found himself craving for more contact, more warmth... just more.
Wille didn't catch on to where Simon's thoughts had wandered until Simon's hands found their way under Wille's sweater and started teasing the waistband of Wille's jeans. That got his attention real quick, and he pulled back from the kiss rather abruptly.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky and breathless, making him sound a little dazed. He shook his head as if to clear it of the fog of desire, searching Simon's face carefully for any doubts or discomfort. "I mean, it's not that I don't want to; it's just... we don't have to," he added pointedly. Simon didn't blame him for pulling the brakes. They'd agreed on this earlier, after all; Simon had just... changed his mind.
"I want to," Simon assured him, leaning in to capture Wilhelm's lips softly, sweetly. He kissed a trail of fire down Wille's jaw, up to his ear, and then down. "I love you so much," he echoed Wille's words from earlier, a delicate whisper against the sensitive, pale skin of Wille's neck. "Let me show you."
"Yes," Wilhelm exhaled in a sigh, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as if to give Simon's lips more access to his neck. "Please."
Between more kisses, shivers, and gasps, they stumbled backward until the back of Wille's knees hit the edge of his perfectly good extra bed, the world outside those four walls completely forgotten, along with what it might or might not have to say about their relationship. For now, they were together, and they were in love; they'd deal with all the rest in the morning.
It was a good thing they'd made sure to close the drapes this time.
.
.
Author's notes!—
..."Off the table," they said? *eyes emoji* (They'll 1000000% be forced to stand on the table the next morning, but others have already written that a thousand times better than I ever could, so I'm just gonna fade to black here, lol.)
I should note: It is not my intention to suggest that Simon and Wille should just "get over" the fact that they were recorded and exposed while being intimate, or that they shouldn't feel any kind of weirdness about restarting their sexual life together after what was done to them. It's a perfectly normal and perfectly valid way to feel for anyone who's been put in that situation, and you do not owe anyone sex unless you're 100% comfortable and feel safe putting yourself in that position. It's been done excellently in other stories in this fandom, and I think it's important to bring it up, which is why I wanted to include a hint of it here. I just think, given the format of the show, the relatively short airtime, and the limited number of locations these two would have available to do... anything fully private (though I'm not averse to them hooking up in every broom closet in Hillerska, lol), I just don't think they have much of a choice but to figure out how to get comfortable again in Wille's room. So that's why I had them get over their momentary hesitation rather quickly. But if you've been in a similar situation, remember: there's no right or wrong way to feel, and no one should pressure you to "get over it" if you're not ready. (Ugh, revenge porn is such a scourge.)
"Let them eat cake" is a quote often attributed to Marie Antoinette, the last queen of France before the French Revolution. It is meant to exemplify the callous disregard the nobility and aristocracy had for the suffering of the peasants, who at the time were struggling to find food, particularly staples like bread. Marie Antoinette probably never said it, however, and the entire anecdote might've been made up since its originator, philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau (who— true story— was named after Felice's horse!), didn't actually attribute it to anyone other than "a great princess." Also, the original French doesn't say "cake;" instead, it's brioche bread. The cake lives on in pop culture, though! (And high school history classes, as well.)
Fredrika's horse, Daisy, was named after Daisy Buchanan, a character from F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. The Swedish Royal Guards are the division of the Swedish Armed Forces that is in charge of protecting the Swedish Royal Family. Call of Duty is a first-person shooter video game franchise published by Activision. Wille's story about being accosted by an older woman was inspired by a similar event that happened to a different child actor a few years back. Seriously, people: stop being creeps. Leave child celebrities and children of celebrities alone. Celebrities in general, really, but especially children. WTF.
For a show about royalty, the most unrealistic thing about it is that everybody's Instagram user names are just... their names. lol. Also, fun fact: I only learned what "on main" actually meant, like, last week. What can I say, guys: I am old. xD
And so we come to the end of Start a Riot! Unless I screwed up majorly and you all hate this chapter for some reason, this story should soon become my most commented-on story on AO3, going by number of comment threads. Which is saying a lot, because the previous holder of this record is thirty-seven chapters long (so that took years!) while this one got there in only nine. So y'all are insane, I guess is what I'm saying? ;) But I appreciate the support!
I hope you enjoyed the ride. I've still got a few loose ideas for one-shots banging around here and there, so you'll be seeing me around; I just don't know how soon. You might want to subscribe on my user profile so you don't miss anything, or follow me on Twitter ( girls_are_weird) or Tumblr ( girls-are-weird) if that's more your thing. And don't forget to leave kudos and comments here! I love discussing this fic and Young Royals with you all. See you when I see you!