Like Because, Love Despite, Chapter 8. PG-13, Set It Up AU, Wille/Simon, romance/fluff/slight drama.
Wilhelm and Simon are a pair of overworked, underpaid assistants who team up to gain their supervisors' favor by bringing them together for a joint venture. It might be the best worst idea they've ever had.
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When Wille had told him he lived in an apartment he and his brother owned, generously financed by their substantial trust funds, Simon had pictured a big, fancy bachelor pad. And it was, except he hadn't envisioned it to be quite this large. Probably growing up in a small home paid for by his single mother's single income had led to a brief failure of imagination on his part when it came to the way of life of the 1%. His bad. He'd just have to try harder next time.
In Wille's defense, the place was big and fancy, but it wasn't ostentatious. Everything looked like it could be on the pages of a magazine, sure, but in the days of home renovation television, that wasn't saying much. At least there were no golden toilets as far as he could see. Simon might have to pull the kill switch on their friendship if he found one of those anywhere on the property.
"In the kitchen!" Wille chimed in from further inside the apartment before Simon had the chance to mention that he'd found the door unlocked. Then again, there probably wasn't much of a need for locks when it was the only apartment on this floor and elevator access was restricted to authorized people only.
He headed in the direction he thought he thought the kitchen was and found Wille with his head inside the fridge. "Hey!" he greeted with a smile as Simon made his way past the living room toward him.
Simon gave him a little wave, somewhat hesitant given his current surroundings. "Hi. Englund is on his way to Öland as we speak, so everything seems to be running smoothly so far. Here's your corporate card back," he said, extending the golden plastic card toward Wille.
The blond nodded, grabbing it from him. "Thanks. On my end, everything's being set up for August's party, but that's the party planner's problem, not mine." He shook his head. "I feel a little bad for them, but I'm not about to volunteer to be in their shoes, either."
"Who's wearing whose shoes?" Two women walked into the kitchen just then: one with dark hair in two pigtails, followed by another with rich dark skin and a ponytail of tight curls. It was the former who spoke, and in English, too. "Ooh, I've got a pair of pink heels that would look killer on you, Wille."
He chuckled. "Uh, maybe next time." He turned to Simon, who was watching this exchange with interest. "Simon, these are Madison and Felice, my best friends."
"Slash quasi-roommates," Madison qualified as she extended a hand for Simon to shake. Then she lifted herself to sit on the island counter space. "We practically live here."
"No, we don't," Felice corrected with an amused-but-affectionate smile before shaking Simon's hand as well. "Hi. It's so good to finally meet you! I feel like I already know you from everything Wille's told us about you."
"All good things, I hope," Simon said in return.
"He certainly never mentioned you were so stylish," Felice commented, signaling to Simon's clothes. "I love the outfit!" He was wearing cuff-rolled white jeans paired with a light, short-sleeved denim shirt, and black loafers. Sara's party was outdoors, so might as well dress summery.
"I've never seen him in anything but blue jeans and graphic t-shirts," Wille pointed out smartly. To be fair, Simon didn't put as much effort when it came to dressing for work. He certainly wasn't required to wear suits as Wille was. HSF wasn't that kind of office.
Regardless, Wille smiled at him. "You do look great, though."
"Thanks. Can't wear just the usual to my sister's engagement party." Simon hoped he wasn't blushing. "Meanwhile, what is that shirt?" he added, pointing at the beige-and-red hibiscus-print short-sleeved shirt Wille was wearing with khaki cargo shorts. He also had a pair of round, dark sunglasses perched on the top of his head.
"What? I'm going to a pool party. It's tropical!" Wille defended himself.
"I think you look great, Wille," Madison chimed in. She was wearing a neon-green mandala-printed sarong over her black-and-white bathing suit. "As do you, my love," she said, turning to Felice, who was wearing a white front-lacing crop top with a black-and-white-plaid pleated tennis skirt and strappy sandals.
"Thank you, Maddie. You as well," Felice replied with a beaming smile. She turned to their guest, curious. "Are you coming with us to August's party, Simon?"
He shook his head. "Nah. I should probably go and face the music with my sister." It was easier said than done, though, and he was sure they could hear the reluctance in his voice. He definitely wasn't looking forward to it.
Wille frowned, now concerned. "Why? What happened?"
Simon shrugged. "Marcus and I broke up yesterday." He didn't miss the way both Maddie and Felice turned to not-so-discreetly look at Wille. "So now he's not coming to the party, which is exactly what my sister didn't want to happen. She's going to kill me."
"Won't she be too busy with her party to get angry at you?" Maddie asked.
"Yeah, but the party doesn't start until six," Simon clarified, bummed out. "She'll have plenty of time to read me the riot act before that."
"So come with us to the pool party!" Felice suggested. "It'll give you an excuse to stay away from your sister until her engagement party starts, and by that point, she won't be able to yell at you with all her guests around."
It sounded tempting, but... "I wasn't invited."
Felice dismissed his objection with a wave of her hand. "Trust me, that's no problem. If August asks, I'll tell him I invited you. He won't say no to me." She seemed really certain of this. "You can be my plus one!"
"I thought I was your plus one," Maddie commented, swinging her legs.
"Ack, that's right." Felice bopped herself lightly on the forehead as if chiding herself for being forgetful. "You can be my plus two?" she offered instead, grinning expectantly at Simon.
"I don't think that's a thing," Simon said, though he was smiling, endeared by the easy banter between the three.
"You're right. But— oh!" Felice snapped her fingers as if an idea had just occurred to her. "I know what we're going to do. You can be Wille's plus one!" She gestured toward Wille like Simon needed a visual reference somehow.
Wille looked like he hadn't been expecting that twist. "Oh, erm— I mean— Yeah, of course you can be my plus one," he stammered his way through the invitation. "If you, uh— If you don't mind, that is."
Simon had to play it like his heart wasn't loop-de-looping inside his chest at the prospect of going to a party with Wille. As his plus one. Almost like a date. He bit his lip and shook his head. "I don't mind."
"Excellent!" Felice exclaimed, snapping Simon out of his shared gaze with Wille. "Let's go, then. I need me some of those poolside cocktails. Bet they'll serve them with the little umbrellas and everything."
"Ohmygod, yeeeeesssss," Maddie exclaimed, hopping down from the kitchen island and grabbing onto Felice's arm to pull her toward the front door. "I'm going to need like ten of those if I'm going to have to interact with August today."
Her comment made Simon laugh at their retreating backs as they headed out of the apartment. Wille gallantly gestured for him to follow first, and Simon did, the other man just a step or two behind him. It turned out, he didn't even need to lock the door on the way out, after all.
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August's party was already booming by the time they made it there. His cousin, obnoxiously expensive sunglasses perched on his nose and a Cuban cigar in his mouth, was seated at a table on the sun deck, playing cards and drinking shots with his minions. He was so focused on the poker game that Wille had to call out to him four times before August even noticed he was standing in front of him. Of course, then he clamped eyes on Felice and the game was all but forgotten.
One good thing about his best friend being there with him was that Simon's introduction, indeed, went a lot smoother than it would've otherwise. August seemed to vaguely remember him from the one time they'd met at the office, and even the more stylish outfit did nothing to diminish August's blatant disdain for Simon on the mere assumption that he didn't have savings of at least seven figures in his bank account. But all it took was Felice batting her eyes at him for him to force his expression into a tight grin, welcoming Simon as he would any other guest.
After that, they just had to be done with the pleasantries so they could go enjoy the party a safe distance away from each other. And Wille was sure that bit of distance was needed because August and Maddie might kill each other if they had to interact one more time.
"McCoy," August greeted tensely, purposefully leaving her for last.
"September," Maddie retorted with an excessively sweet smile. Simon snorted, then tried to cover it up with a cough. Felice rolled her eyes at their antics. Wille wondered when their strained civility had deteriorated into barefaced contempt. He was pretty sure they hadn't seen each other since the Finance Under Forty Luncheon, but perhaps absence made derision grow deeper.
August only pressed his lips even tighter and held back his tongue. "Anyways, feel free to hang around," he said instead, signaling to the social area around them. "There's plenty of amenities to try. You can ask the DJ to play your favorite song— he doesn't usually take requests when he performs in Ibiza, but he'll do that here as a favor for yours truly." Wille saw Simon chuckle at how August pronounced Ibiza with the Spanish distinction, but it was discreet enough not to draw August's attention; he only noticed because he'd already been staring at him.
"You can also take a dip in the pool," he said, none-too-subtly staring Felice up and down as she spoke. If Wille wasn't sure his ass would be fired for doing so, he would kick him. "I have been advised it's at the perfect temperature for this gorgeous summer day."
He pointed toward the opposite corner, under the shade of the building's upper floors. "There's a full open bar in that corner—"
"Great. I know where I'm headed," Maddie cut him off abruptly. Without giving him a second to recover from the interruption, she linked her arm with Simon's and pulled him in the direction August had just gestured.
Felice gave August her patented "Instagram Influencer" smile and, piling on the bubbliness, said, "Thanks, August. I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun." Needless to say, the "without you" was implied. She hurried to catch up with the other two.
Wille gave his stunned cousin a sheepish smile and followed his friends to the bar.
"Ugh, he is the worst!" Maddie exclaimed once she had the hurricane cocktail she'd ordered in hand. "Did you see how he was looking at Felice? Such a pig." She shook her head in disgust.
Simon nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't want that guy around my sister." He turned to Felice. "Are you sure you should be keeping him on the hook like that? From what I've heard, he's got quite the temper. Put a bit of distance between you if it starts feeling dangerous."
Wille winced internally, knowing that Simon only really knew of August's temper because he'd told him the stories. Which were all true, of course, but still... he didn't want his friends to live in fear of August. If his cousin was going to take his anger out on anyone, it better be on him.
He did feel a little guilty about the position Felice was putting herself in. He tugged her closer. "He's got a point, though. Don't feel you have to flirt with him just to get us something. It's not your fault he's into you. You don't owe him anything."
She smiled at him. "I'm doing this of my own volition. But thanks." She leaned in and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek. "You're a good friend."
Wille smiled back. He moved his gaze back toward the other two and just caught Simon turning his face abruptly like he'd been staring but didn't want to make it obvious. Wille's smile widened just a little bit.
For the next couple of hours, they hung out, danced to songs previously performed in Ibiza, munched on every hors d'oeuvre that passed them by, and Maddie even got in the pool a couple of times, flirting with every guy, girl, and non-binary person she managed to talk to. They also played party games aplenty. Felice and Wille got absolutely trounced in beer pong, which Felice complained was only because Simon was sober and Maddie was from the US.
Truth was, those two made a formidable team, and they'd become thick as thieves in the short time they'd spent together so far. If you gave them one more hour, they'd officially be BFFs for life. Wille was almost regretting introducing them to each other with the way Maddie liked to tease him about his crush, but if he had to be honest, he was just glad all these people he cared so much about were getting along.
"So what's the story on this breakup of yours?" Maddie asked, sipping from her mojito and leaning sideways against the backrest of the sunlounger she and Felice were sitting on.
"Maddie!" Felice nudged her with her elbow, chiding her for prying.
"No, it's okay. It wasn't that serious, anyway," Simon assured her. He and Wille were similarly seated on the next sunlounger, facing the girls. Wille shouldn't feel good about hearing Simon say that he was never that into Marcus; he knew it had nothing to do with him, but it still felt good to hear.
"The bigger issue is that my sister has this thing about me not being alone," he explained. Wille already knew this, but it was new information for Felice and Maddie. "Especially in the lead-up to her wedding because it makes her feel like she's rubbing it in my face. And she was the one who introduced me to Marcus— they work together— so now I feel bad that I couldn't even stick it out until her engagement party."
"Well, why did you break up?" Maddie asked because when she was drunk, she apparently couldn't stop herself from prodding even deeper. "'Cause if the guy was a douche, then your sister should be happy you dumped him before he ended up in the wedding photos."
Simon shook his head. "Nah, he broke up with me. He basically said I was using work as an excuse to not go out with him." Wille thought he saw him sneak a glance his way. Then Simon shrugged. "He wasn't wrong."
Wille felt his heart beating faster as he pondered that little admission. If he was putting the timeline together right, Simon had, on Thursday, turned down Marcus's offer of a dinner date to help him record a song. The very next day, Marcus had broken up with him, citing that Simon was putting other priorities above him. And now Simon was saying he was right in that assessment. Did that mean that helping Wille was more important to him than spending time with Marcus? That Wille was more important to him than Marcus?
Whoa, there, he thought to himself. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.
When he looked up, cheeks pink from the sun and his own hopeful thoughts, he found Simon looking at him again. This time he didn't look away, but rather met his gaze with a soft smile. Wille smiled back.
"Well, I think you and your sister are both feeling guilty about things that you have nothing to do with," Felice chimed in, drawing both of their attention toward the girls again. "You both just want the other to be happy, which is very sweet. But you don't need a romantic relationship to be happy, you know? You can be single and happy as well."
"I know," Simon agreed emphatically. But there was more to it. "It's just... I don't know, it would be nice to have someone. Marcus was pretty perfect, and it would've been nice to have someone to hang out with at the party since my two best friends can't make it and my sister and my mamma will probably be busy hosting the thing."
Maddie scoffed. "Sounds to me like you have a pretty low bar for perfect," she grumbled before continuing demurely to sip her drink through a turquoise straw.
"And if the issue is just having someone there with you," Felice added, "then that's easily solved. Wille can be your date!"
"...What?" Wille blurted out, Felice's declaration making his brain record-scratch. Him? Going to a party hosted by Simon's family? Meeting his mother and sister? Being part of an event that would be a forever memory for them? That seemed like a huge deal; even bigger than meeting Ayub and Rosh. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it, and he hadn't even begun to process the date aspect of it.
The silence stretched uncomfortably as he tried to make sense of it all. The girls just stared pointedly at him, Felice signaling with a tilt of her head and a raise of her eyebrows that this was the point where he had to agree with her suggestion.
It was enough to prompt his mouth to start working again. "...I mean, right!" He turned to Simon. "I'll be happy to go with you to your sister's party. If it's— if that's okay with you," he added, stumbling over his words a little.
Simon stared at him for a moment— processing the offer, perhaps— before chuckling like he'd concluded it had to be some kind of joke. "And, what, pretend that we're together?" he said. He laughed so easily about it that it made Wille's heart sink to his stomach. Simon shook his head. "I doubt Sara will buy that I'm with someone new after one day. The 'fake dating' thing only works in books."
It took Wille two attempts full of nonsensical babbling before he managed to reply something coherent. "No, no, I just meant— You were my plus one to this party, and I'll be your plus one to yours." He tried to infuse his words with as much genuineness as he could. "I mean it, Simon. I'd love to go with you to the party. It'll be fun."
Simon kept staring, but something in his expression softened like he was coming around to the idea. He was still not all the way in, though. "I can't just make you leave here," he said, biting his lip between sentences. "August might get mad at you. I don't want to get you in trouble."
Wille was going to reply that August probably hadn't spared him a thought all day and probably wouldn't as the afternoon went on and he got drunker and drunker, but Felice beat him to it. He'd almost forgotten the girls were sitting right there, he was so focused on Simon.
"I can tell August I'm not feeling well and that we all need to go," Felice suggested easily. "He won't take it against Wille if I'm the one making him leave."
That seemed to break through Simon's last objection. The corners of his mouth quirked up, but he still turned to Wille for confirmation. "You know you don't have to do this, right?" he asked cautiously. "Don't feel obligated or anything."
Wille shook his head emphatically. "I don't. I really want to go with you, Simon." It was all he wanted from life, honestly, was to spend as much time as possible with Simon in any way he could. But of course, he didn't say that out loud.
"Think of it this way: I'll be your bucketful of frogs for the day." He paused after hearing himself say that. "Except I'm just one frog. And when I put it that way, it really does sound like I'm expecting to die within twenty-four hours..."
"I don't think the analogy stretches that far," Simon said with a roll of his eyes, but the quirk of his lips had stretched into a full grin, and for Wille, it was like the sun rose again even though it was still early and the actual sun hadn't gone anywhere. It was just that brilliant to see him happy.
"Yeah, I kind of realized that after I said it," Wille admitted with a grimace.
Simon laughed, the sound vibrant and clear. "...Okay," he said, his dark eyes twinkling. "Okay. You can be my plus one to Sara's party, then."
Wille beamed back at him.
This time, their shared gaze was interrupted by the loud slurping sound made by Maddie's straw as she sipped the last of her mojito. That's when they realized the girls were just staring at them like they couldn't figure out what just happened. But that was a story for another day. Or never. (He sort of liked the idea of having an inside joke with Simon, or ten.)
"Cool," Maddie said, shaking it off and putting her now-empty glass on the small round table between the sunloungers. "You guys go tell August that we're leaving. I'll go someplace where I don't have to see his face again. Maybe I can get me a certain someone's number while I'm at it. Go team!"
She skipped off to do just that, leaving the other three behind to chuckle at her hijinks.
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Both Simon and Alexander had enthusiastically agreed when Sara let them know that the one gorgeous rooftop venue they had visited a few weeks earlier now suddenly had an opening for their preferred date for their engagement party, and should they reserve it? As far as Simon was concerned, there was no better way to make use of the nearly permanent sunlight of Swedish summer than to have a rooftop party that went late into the night.
The first thing he did when he got to the place, Wille hurrying to keep up with him, was to seek out Sara and his mother and wrap each of them individually in a tight bear hug. "You made it!" he told his mother. Initially, Ayub was going to drive his mother from Bjärstad to Stockholm, but when he got to their small hometown, he found out his grandma needed emergency hip-replacement surgery. So he had to stay behind, and his mother had to travel the old-fashioned way: via train. Not that she wasn't perfectly capable of traveling on her own, but Simon always worried.
"I did!" she replied, beaming at him. Man, he'd missed his mother's smile. But then she frowned slightly. "I was getting a little worried that you wouldn't make it, actually," she said. An indirect way of reminding Simon that he was late to his own sister's party.
"Yeah, I'm sorry," he said. "Something came up, and the distance from there was farther than I anticipated. But!" He pointed at both of them. "You both look amazing." And he meant that. His mother was wearing a colorful floral-print dress, and Sara a delicate, breezy sundress— white lace, of course, because she was the bride.
"Gracias, amor," his mother replied humbly. Then her gaze went to Wille, who had been standing awkwardly behind him this whole time, and she leaned in so that only Simon would hear. "Ese es Marcus? Sara has told me a lot about him."
Simon glared at his sister. Sara just shrugged in response. Turning back to his mother, he said, "No. No, uh, Marcus isn't... really happening anymore." He gestured for Wille to come closer. "This is Wilhelm. He works in the same building as me."
Sara's brows arched high at that last part. Simon discreetly shook his head at her, which she knew to mean "Don't. Say. Anything." His stern expression only served to emphasize how much he meant that in this case.
"Wille," he continued the other half of the introduction, "these are my sister, Sara, and my mamma. Uh, Linda, that is."
Wille hurried to extend his hand to his mom for a handshake. "It's very nice to meet you, Linda."
"It's lovely to meet you as well, Wilhelm," Simon's mom replied with a warm smile. She'd always been one to treat Simon's friends like they were her own children, and he could only imagine Wille was already on the way there. "And welcome! I hope you'll have a good time with us tonight."
"I'm sure I will," Wille said before turning to Sara for a similar greeting.
"Alex!" Sara called out, waving at her fiancé, who was probably mingling somewhere behind Simon and Wille. "Look who finally got here!"
"Oh, good!" came Alex's response, prompting both Simon and Wille to look over their shoulders to watch him as he approached. "I was starting to worry that maybe something had gone wrong!"
Simon was about to reply snarkily, but he was interrupted by Wille's gasp. "No way!" the blond man said, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. "Alexander Bragé?"
Alexander actually stopped in his tracks to gape back at him. "Wille!" He rushed forward, arms open, and hugged Wille like a long-lost brother. Simon wouldn't say that he was weirded out by the sudden familiarity, but... it did feel a little bit weird. "Oh my God! It's been so long, man!"
"I know!" Wille said, returning the hug just as enthusiastically. "It's been, what, like ten years?"
That's when it clicked for Simon. "Let me guess," Simon said drolly, pointing at one and then the other, and back and forth again. "Same boarding school?" Simon was aware that when Alexander was young, his family was very wealthy. They were in investments or something. He'd definitely heard him say he'd been enrolled in a boarding school at some point in his secondary education.
But then his father's firm had gone bankrupt, and they had to downsize... well, their entire lives, really. That is to say, they ended up living a high-middle-class life rather than being part of the upper crust of society— which was still better than most. But it did mean Alexander had to finish his education in public school. And perhaps his family's misfortune was for the best because Alex grew up to be a pretty down-to-earth, empathetic guy.
"In our first year, at least," Alexander explained, grinning. "Wow, what a small world."
Just as Wille replied, probably starting them on a trip down memory lane, Linda pulled Simon to her by the arm. "Es casi como que Wilhelm fuera parte de la familia, no?" she whispered in his ear like she was sharing some gossip.
Simon rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look. "Mamá..."
"Fine, fine," she relented. She pressed a kiss to his temple and nudged him toward Wille, Alex, and Sara, who were chatting like old friends. (Which at least two of them were, so that made sense.) "Go have fun! I don't need a chaperone." She started walking backward, shimmying along to the rhythm of the music playing from the speakers. "My baby's getting married, and I'm going to party all night long!"
Simon laughed, shaking his head at her affectionately. "You're so cheesy," he said, but she was too far away to hear him. She disappeared into the crowd dancing in the middle of the rooftop space, joining some of their relatives who had come from all over Sweden to be here for Sara.
The four of them chatted for a bit before moving over to the bar for canapés and snaps. Simon wasn't drinking, of course, but he did join them for the songs. Then Alex and Sara scurried over to the improvised dance floor for a spin, and he and Wille stayed behind, people watching. It had been a bit since the drinks Wille had at August's party, but not enough for his body to fully burn down the alcohol, and adding aquavit on top of that meant that Wille was right back to being tipsy. Tipsy Wille was very chatty. It was cute.
They weren't even done with the canapés when waiters passed by, distributing champagne glasses. That meant Alex and Sara had to scamper off because it was time for the speeches.
The happy couple stood near the entrance to the roof, accompanied by their parents, while the rest of the guests stood in front of them, cheerfully listening. Simon and Wille stood at the front of the crowd. Alex's speech was, predictably, sappy and nostalgic, starting with the day he met Sara and listing what he labeled as "only some" of the things he loved about her. Many in the audience were already teary-eyed by the time Sara took hold of the microphone.
"Hi, everyone," she greeted shyly. She'd always found it a bit daunting to speak in public, generally preferring to interact with horses than with people, but she pushed herself to do it for occasions in which she felt particularly proud— such as at her gymnasium graduation, when she was offered the opening speech at a national horse-management conference, or now.
"Alex is... very different from my previous boyfriends," she continued. Simon almost snorted. As far as he knew (and he was pretty certain Sara didn't keep any secrets from him), she had had two boyfriends before Alexander, and both of them had been total assholes. Now that those days and that drama had passed and they could look back on them and laugh, Simon loved to tease her that she had a type and it was "utter douchebag." Thank God Alex had come to break that pattern. Seriously, Simon truly loved the guy and was so happy he was officially joining the family.
"And it was a bit confusing at first that I liked him so much when there was so much about him that annoyed me." Alexander made a face at that— very obviously exaggerated— and everybody laughed. Sara smiled, a bit unsure, and Alex took hold of her hand, squeezing encouragingly. "Um, for one, his wardrobe still hasn't grown out of its preppy boarding-school rich-boy phase."
"Hey!" Alexander and Wille exclaimed almost in unison. This time Simon did snort. Wille turned to Simon, a small frown marring his features. "What? It's a style!" he declared defensively.
Simon laughed. "More like a lack of style."
Wille elbowed him playfully, which made Simon laugh even more. "You're one to talk, Mr. Looney Tunes t-shirt."
Simon shook his head. "Look at it on the bright side: at least you've evolved from that to pristine, perfectly pressed designer business suits that only remain pristine and perfectly pressed for about a quarter of the workday as you keep stress-wrinkling them because your boss is a jackass." He didn't add that Wille looked hot in a suit regardless of the wrinkles. Maybe because of them? Right now was not the time to be analyzing his turn-ons, seriously.
His response drew a self-deprecating chuckle out of Wille. "Silver linings, I guess."
Simon nudged him with his shoulder. "Pay attention to my sister, you dork." Wille complied, and as he turned to look toward the front, Simon could see that his smile had lost that somber edge.
Sara was still listing things that annoyed her about her fiancé. "Also, 'Photograph' by Nickelback is the first song that plays every time you get in his car," she said, drawing groans from the audience.
Alexander gaped at her. "You like them, too!"
"Yes, but I listen to more than one of their songs!" Sara replied, laughing. Alex fake-huffed for a bit but then wrapped an arm around Sara's waist, drawing her close and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
"But more than anything," she continued her speech, "he bends over backward to do things for other people, and carry burdens for other people, even when they didn't ask him to, even when they don't want the help. He means well, but he doesn't realize." She shook her head, serious.
She paused and looked down, pensive, and then she smiled again. "When we were kids, my abuelita had a saying she used to repeat to us all the time." She gestured to their mother, ceding the spotlight for a moment.
Their mom nodded, smiling nostalgically as if remembering those days. "Te gusta por, le quieres a pesar," she recalled. Simon remembered the line well; their grandmother used to say it whenever their grandfather did something that annoyed her, as a lesson to her children and grandchildren for when they found their own life partners. Simon didn't think his abuelita was aware he was gay— she died when he was still a tween— but looking back on it, he appreciated the gender-neutral construction of the tenet.
"It means something along the lines of 'You like because, and you love despite,'" Sara translated for the people in the crowd who didn't speak Spanish. "You can like someone because of some of their qualities, but then you grow to love them despite some of their qualities."
She turned to her fiancé, looking at him with stars in her eyes. "I didn't understand what that saying really meant until I met Alex. That he can have all these qualities that annoy me, and yet... I like him almost as much as I love him." The crowd aww-ed. "And I can't wait to be his wife."
The soon-to-be newlyweds kissed, drawing more coos from the crowd. Simon felt like his heart could burst with how happy he was for his sister, but a part of him— a small part, to be sure— was also a little bit sad. It was silly, he knew, and Felice was right that he didn't need a romantic partner to be happy, but still, Simon wished he could have someone like that in his life, someone who'd look at him the way Alexander looked at Sara.
As his mother called out "To the happy couple!" he snuck a glance at Wille, who was downing the contents of his champagne glass along with the toast. When he finished, he turned to look at Simon with a smile, his irises gleaming golden in the sunlight of the subarctic summer nights. "Thanks for letting me come with you," he said as the crowd started to disperse around the rooftop area. "I've had a lot of fun."
Simon laughed. "The party's just getting started."
As if on cue, the music changed to a familiar uptempo merengue melody, and Simon grinned. "Oh, yes, I love this song!" He tugged excitedly at Wille's sleeve. "Come on. Let's dance. It'll be so much fun!"
Wille looked aghast at the suggestion. "What? No, I don't— I don't dance."
"It's not that hard," Simon insisted, grabbing his wrist and tugging him lightly toward the dance floor. "Please? When Sara and I were in our teens, we used to practice twirls every day to this song. I'd ask her, but she's already dancing with Alex."
Wille's eyes were as wide as plates. "I definitely cannot do twirls." He tried to plant his feet as steady as he could in his lightly inebriated state, and he looked so adamant that Simon had to laugh.
"I'm not asking you to twirl; I'm just asking you to dance with me to this song I really love." He could see Wille's hesitation soften a little at that, so he insisted. "You just have to shift your weight between your feet to the beat of the music. It's easy, I promise."
He tugged him forward again. "Come on. Dance with me, white boy." That finally made Wille chuckle, and he let himself be pulled into the crowd of dancers.
No one would ever dare accuse Wille of being a natural at dancing (much less when drunk), but he wasn't nearly as bad as he probably thought he was. His hips were pretty stiff, but he was quite capable of following a rhythm, which made sense given that he played the piano. He even braved one single, very basic twirl that thankfully didn't result in either of them bowling over some nearby unsuspecting couple.
To make things easier on Wille's coordination, they'd been dancing separately for most of the song. The twirl necessitated their holding hands, though, and they remained that way for what little was left of the song. "A que le yo-yo, mamacita," Simon sang joyfully as they bopped to the music, "pero me gusta cuando tú me das un besito en la boquita— niña, ¡qué bien!"
As the song went onto its final instrumental section, Wille leaned in to ask "What does that mean?" in Simon's ear (because the music was too loud for conversation to be heard normally), talking about the words he'd just sung. Even if Wille had understood Spanish (which he didn't), those lyrics would've been too rapid-fire for him to grasp, and some of it was untranslatable.
Simon laughed. "It's a love song. Take a wild guess!"
In retaliation for his question being left unanswered, Wille pulled him into another simple twirl. And another. And another, until Simon was starting to get dizzy, but laughing non-stop. And then the song ended quite abruptly.
Simon tumbled forward, the world still spinning around him, to the point that Wille had to steady him with a hand at his waist. "Sorry. Too much?" he asked with a smile, sounding only a little bit guilty.
Simon, still laughing, shook his head. "It's fine..." He looked up to find himself way too close to Wille— entirely too close— as the chords of Duncan Laurence started to play on the speakers. Everybody knows me. Everybody holds a piece of truth...
Wille glanced down at the palm of Simon's hand where it pressed against his chest— it had ended up there in his feeble attempt to stabilize himself— but if he had any thoughts about it of any kind, he didn't voice them out loud. Instead, his intense gaze bore down on Simon as he said, "Um... do you want to continue... still..."
"Continue dancing," is what he meant, even though it felt to Simon like it took him a small eternity to figure that out. "Uh, I mean... sure. If you want to... as well..." He trailed off and swallowed heavily. He felt breathless.
Wille nodded, the movement barely noticeable, like he was afraid to disturb the bubble around them. His free hand, resting at Simon's waist, moved to his elbow, his fingertips trailing upwards oh-so-softly, drawing pathways of goosebumps on his forearm. He grabbed hold of Simon's hand that rested on his chest, over his heart, delicately lifting his fingers and intertwining them with his own. For a brief moment, Simon thought he might bring it to his mouth to kiss it; instead, he brought it up to his shoulder. He did the same with the other hand and, still holding his gaze, lowered both of his own hands back down to Simon's waist just as Simon locked his behind Wille's neck.
And they started to sway.
When my world's on fire, you kill the flames, the song crooned when Simon finally found his voice again. There was something that had hit him quite unexpectedly as he listened to Sara's speech. "So... what's August and Englund's 'and yet'?"
Wille frowned, not expecting that question. "What do you mean?"
"The thing Sara was talking about, with my abuelita's saying," Simon reminded him. "Like, how sometimes there are all these small reasons why a relationship shouldn't work... but they don't really matter in the end." He tilted his head, thinking of a better example. "You know, like: 'Our families are rivals to the death, and yet...'"
Wille, if anything, looked even more confused. "Like Romeo and Juliet?"
Simon groaned. Of course he would jump straight to Shakespeare. "That's so tired of you. You know that Pyramus and Thisbe were the original star-crossed lovers, don't you? Romeo and Juliet is just a whitewashed version of an old Middle Eastern folktale—"
"Right. I'll have to read it, then," Wille replied, laughing at how riled up Simon got about these things. "What I meant was, why do they have to have an 'and yet'? In case you missed this, we're trying to get August and Englund to work together, not to fall in love."
"Yeah, but even friendships and familial relationships should have them, right?" Simon argued back. Love was love was love, after all, no matter what kind of love it was. "Like, for example, Sara has shit taste in men— except for Alexander, obviously— and she can be way too blunt to the point of being hurtful, and many times she's made me promise something that she'll then conveniently not stick to herself. And yet... I absolutely adore her."
There's something that we're made of... it's greater than the distance we're apart, the song continued as they silently processed Simon's words. "And you..." he spoke again. "You wear suits to football games. And you have absolutely no concept of how much money is actually worth. And yet..." He smirked. "...you're pretty okay."
"Wow, pretty okay? That's the greatest compliment I've ever received," Wille said, laughing. Their swaying kept getting more and more swing-y the more Wille laughed; he probably should drink some water. "You... get like an angry kitten when you think something is an injustice."
"Excuse me? An angry kitten?" Simon sputtered between laughs of his own. Honestly, he couldn't see it.
"I said what I said," Wille insisted. "And also, you discriminate against me because my family is wealthy." The only valid response to that was a loud snort. "No, really. Who needs self-punishment when they've got friends like you?" Simon rolled his eyes. "And yet..."
He trailed off, his grin fading down to a wistful expression. The lyrics People come and people go, but you and I, we're beautiful washed over the silence that enveloped them like a cocoon.
Simon waited for him to finish the thought, but that never happened. "Wille?" he prompted, concerned. "Did you... forget what you were going to say?"
"I, uh..." Wille shook his head as if clearing it and blinked his eyes closed. "I think... yeah, probably," he finally said. He'd stopped dancing altogether— thankfully it wasn't weird, as the song was coming to an end anyway, and the couples dancing around them were slowing down as well.
Simon examined his face carefully. Maybe Wille was drunker than he'd previously thought, even though he'd used the word "self-punishment" in a sentence just a minute ago. "You shouldn't go back home by yourself," he said, moving his hands to Wille's shoulders both to steady him and to guide his attention to his words. "Stay here for a bit. I'll go say goodbye to Sara and Mamma and then I'll walk you home, okay?"
It took Wille a second to process that. "No, it's your sister's party. You don't have to—"
"It's fine," Simon waved off his weak attempt at a protest. "If I don't make sure you get home okay, then I'll just be worrying about you for the rest of the night. Not a fun thing to be doing at a party."
"Okay," Wille conceded. "But at least let me go with you to say goodbye."
They didn't find Simon's mom, but they did get to talk to Sara and Alex. "Tell Mamma I'll see her at home, okay?" Simon said as he hugged his sister. Beside them, Wille and Alexander were hugging like they were never going to see each other again. Fated to be BFFs, those two; they were both huggy drunks.
As he and Sara pulled back, she was smirking. "I'll tell Mamma not to wait up for you."
Simon rolled his eyes. "It's not like that." By this point, Wille and Alex had both pulled out their cellphones and were exchanging numbers. It seemed to be taking them both a few tries to get all the digits right.
"Mm-hmm." Sara's smirk did not abate.
"He's drunk!" Simon said, lightly shoving at her shoulder like they used to do all the time when they were kids. As if to prove his point, Wille and Alex had just realized that they'd pocketed the wrong phone, and were now switching them back.
"Well, hey, there's always the morning." She pecked him on the cheek. "Now, go. Have a good night."
Simon shook his head, muttering "Unbelievable..." under his breath, but did as his sister suggested. "Wille! Come on, let's get going." He waited a brief moment to let Wille and Alex hug one last time (geez, those two!), and then they were off to the nearest Metro station.
All the way to their stop, he kept murmuring under his breath that he could've just called someone to pick them up; Malin— his mother's driver, apparently— wouldn't mind. Simon mostly just hummed in response, figuring that the sounds of the train were lulling him to sleep. That assumption was confirmed when Wille's head dropped on Simon's shoulder, his even breaths mingling with the harmonics of the silent train car.
.
.
.
They took the elevator up to Wille's apartment, which was the only one on that floor. Simon commented that he had never even been in a building that had only one apartment per floor, which was something that would never even have occurred to Wille to think of as odd. Huh.
When he opened the door, they were hit by an aromatic cloud so strong that Simon's hand moved up to cover his nose by reflex. "Shit." Wille nearly tripped over his own feet to close the door back— with the two of them still on the outside. "Sandalwood."
"I noticed," Simon said, rubbing his nose like that could somehow get rid of the residual sensation. It didn't seem like it helped. "What's up with that? Did you accidentally leave incense burning, or...?"
"No, it's a signal," Wille said. "That Maddie's in there with someone." When Simon just gave him a blank stare like he didn't understand why that would be a problem, he elaborated: "Probably having sex."
"...Oh," Simon said when it finally clicked. "So what do we do?"
"We have to go through the emergency exit," he said, signaling for Simon to follow him down a hallway around the corner.
He pushed through the door only for the fire alarm to start ringing so loudly that he might have permanent ear damage afterward. "Shit, shit, shit," he repeated, hurrying back to press his key fob against the sensor to deactivate it. "Sorry, I forgot," he told Simon sheepishly.
He did remember to use his key fob on the opposite door. That one connected the emergency stairs to his balcony, which in turn held another door that led directly to his bedroom. Once they were inside, Wille let himself fall on his bed, arms and legs outstretched like a starfish.
"Don't get too comfortable," Simon said once he was done looking around the room for the light switch. "You need to eat something, or you're going to regret it tomorrow. What are the odds of me walking in on Maddie having sex if I brave a trip to the kitchen?"
Wille rolled over to the edge of the bed and lowered himself down to the floor, following Simon's advice not to fall asleep without eating. "Nah, she usually keeps it to the guest room. Just stay this side of the living room and you should be fine."
Simon nodded and walked out of the room, leaving the door open in case he needed to ask a question. It didn't take long. "Do you have any food that's already made?" came the question after a few minutes of him rummaging around the kitchen.
Wille racked his brain to remember what he'd seen inside his refrigerator in the morning before they left for August's party. It definitely wasn't much— he spent so much time running groceries for August that he often forgot to buy his own. "Um... there might be some leftover boiled pasta in the fridge? The sauce is gone, though." Probably gone bad already. Felice would've thrown it out.
"That's fine!" Simon replied easily, and Wille heard the refrigerator doors open and close.
He sat there waiting for a few minutes, mumbling "Don't fall asleep" over and over to himself to fend off the drowsiness. The hum of the microwave didn't help, but thankfully, it didn't take too long for Simon to come back, two bowls of plain spaghetti in his hands, a bottle of water under one arm, and a bottle of ketchup under the other. He hadn't drunk any alcohol, but apparently, he was just hungry. He sat down beside Wille and handed him the water, one of the bowls, and a fork. He poured ketchup on his own spaghetti with gusto.
Wille took a big swig from the water bottle, then looked down at his food, feeling a little foolish. "Sorry I didn't have anything better in the fridge," he said, a little embarrassed. He might have more money than he knew what to do with, but that didn't mean he had his life all put together.
Then again, if anyone out there could understand the crappy work-life balance afforded by an assistant position, it was Simon. Mouth full of pasta, he shook his head. He took a moment to chew and swallow before he spoke. "Are you kidding me? This is the best meal I've ever had," he joked.
Wille laughed, and feeling a bit lighter, dove into his food. They ate in silence for a few minutes (it's not like they were huge bowls of spaghetti, either) and once they were done, Simon took the bowls back to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher.
Wille threw his head back against his bed, waiting for him to return, but it only took about a minute. He sat back down and looked him over. "You think you're good now?" he asked, concerned.
Turning toward his side so he could look at him directly, Wille nodded. "Thanks for doing this," he said, his voice a bit mumbled because his cheek was pressed against the bedspread. "You didn't have to."
"It's not a big deal," Simon said with an unconcerned shrug. He'd pulled one of his legs toward his chest, his forearm resting on his bent knee. "Wouldn't want you to have a massive hangover in the morning."
Wille straightened up with a groan. "I shouldn't have drunk so much."
Simon chuckled. "It's okay," he said. His smile fell a little when he added, "You're hardly the worst I've ever seen."
Some far-away corner or Wille's mind registered that there seemed to be a story there, but he was too woozy to really delve into that. He'd have to shelve it for another day if he managed to remember.
Instead, he was just overcome by how... good Simon was. He didn't have to leave his sister's party to haul his ass back to his apartment, but he did it anyway because he wanted to make sure Wille was okay. Apart from Erik, he'd never really had anyone care for him that much. Not even his parents.
It was overwhelming in a way that would be hard to process even if he were completely sober. As it was, he could only stare in awe at this incredible man, his eyes tracing over his effortlessly stunning features. Just... beautiful inside and out.
"You're amazing," he whispered, his tone full of wonder. "You know that?"
Simon let out an airy sound, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. "You don't have to do that," he said bashfully, his voice just as low.
"No, I do." Because if Simon didn't have someone in his life who would tell him every day how wonderful he was, then Wille would gladly take that job. He scooted closer, his gaze trailing down to Simon's lips... so lovely, so soft-looking... so close...
He let out his breath in a lengthy, longing sigh. "I just..." He couldn't hold back anymore, not after wanting this— wanting him— so desperately for weeks and weeks. He couldn't hold back now that he had Simon so close, looking back at him with so much openness, so much affection in his gaze... He couldn't keep himself at arm's length anymore. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Simon's, and oh, they were softer than he had ever imagined.
That Simon kissed him back without even a second's hesitation felt nothing short of miraculous.
The moment Simon's lips returned the pressure, Wille knew that he wanted more— that he would always want more of this. Of Simon. He slanted his head just slightly, their lips sliding together in the most delicious way. He groaned, and Simon panted, lips opening just enough for their tongues to caress each other, sending a pulse of electricity down Wille's spine. He lifted himself to his knees so that he could kiss him deeper, make it easier to taste him, because he'd only had this once but already he was well on his way to becoming addicted...
...or was, until Simon pulled back. "Wille. Wille, wait."
Wille's tipsy brain was confused for a moment. Why stop when everything felt so nice? But it only took him a second or two for him to realize that he'd just kissed Simon without even asking if that was something he wanted. He'd just assumed. "Shit. I shouldn't have done that." He scooched away, putting at least a good foot between them, and ran his hands over his face and up to tug at his hair. "Fuck. I shouldn't have— I'm just gonna go." He made to get up. "I'm gonna— Wait, no, shit, this is my apartment—"
His rambling was interrupted by an adorable giggle, his attention drawn back to Simon, who was smiling at him, his eyes shining. "No. No, hey." He put a hand on Wille's shoulder, gently turning his whole body toward him and reducing the space that separated them at the same time. "You did nothing wrong, okay? I liked it."
"Yeah?" Wille asked, breathless, as Simon's hand moved to cradle his face.
"Yeah," Simon said, looking right into his eyes so Wille knew he meant it. Wille felt effervescent, like his joy would just bubble up inside him until he burst. But Simon wasn't done. "It's just... you're drunk, Wille."
The sound that came out of Wille's mouth at that might've been a whine. He wasn't in a mental state to care. "No, but..." He lifted his own hand to caress Simon's neck. "I've wanted this for so long..." He leaned forward to try and kiss him again.
And again, Simon pulled back, this time before their mouths could meet. "So have I," Simon whispered, leaning his forehead against Wille's. He could feel his breath, hot and heady, against his lips. "But I need to know that this is really you and not the alcohol talking, okay? I need to be sure."
Wille took a couple of seconds to think about that, and it was that brief fragment of time, more than anything, that convinced him that Simon was right in wanting to wait. Not that he didn't want this— of course he did— but perhaps he wasn't sober enough to be really present in the moment. He didn't want to finally kiss Simon as he'd wanted practically since day one only to forget about it come morning. So he nodded, rubbing the tip of his nose against Simon's in a soft little gesture of agreement.
"So here's what we're going to do, alright?" Simon continued as Wille pressed his face against Simon's neck, closing his eyes. "Are you hearing what I'm saying?" Wille nodded again. "I... am going to go home. You should drink a lot of water, then go to bed. Take a me-day tomorrow if you're not feeling well." Another nod. "And then, on Monday, if you still want this, then... you just let me know. Okay?"
"I will," Wille said. And he meant it. Not just that he would let Simon know one way or the other on Monday, but that even when sober— especially when sober— he would definitely still want this, still want to be with Simon this way. There was no possible universe in which he wouldn't want to be with Simon. It was simply an impossibility.
"Okay." Simon smiled at him. God, he was so pretty. He grabbed onto the bed to push himself to his feet. Wille did the same.
He escorted Simon back out to the balcony and through both emergency doors until they reached the elevator. As the doors opened, Simon pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you on Monday, yes?"
"Monday," Wille echoed with a smile of his own. Simon bit his lip and walked into the elevator car, giving Wille one last smile— a hope, a promise— before the doors closed between them.
Wille stood there for a moment and lifted a hand to rub his face in disbelief, giddy chuckles bubbling out of him as he thought back to everything that happened that day. Everything that was yet to happen between them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if to hold the sensations in. Just thinking back to the brief— too brief— feeling of Simon's lips pressing exquisitely against his made him feel like he had electricity running underneath his skin.
This wasn't quite day one of them just yet, but it was within sight. And as he walked back to his room, he thought to himself that Monday couldn't get there fast enough.
.
.
Author's notes!—
In the original movie, they didn't kiss in this scene. You're welcome. I'll take your gratitude in the form of kudos and comments.
In Spanish, the distinción or distinction is the way people from Spain, at least those who speak Castilian Spanish (but I believe this is also common to at least a few other dialects in Spain), pronounce z's and c's (before e's and i's). It's an "interdental" pronunciation, meaning the tongue is between the teeth so they sound like th's do in English. Foreign speakers can sometimes pronounce words with the distinction if they learned Spanish from a person from Spain, which is totally fine. To those of us who don't speak Spanish with the distinction, however, in some cases, like with the names Ibiza or Barcelona, it can come off a little... pretentious? Like the person is trying too hard to sound like a native because those places are considered "cool." Not in all cases, of course— but I think we can all agree that August would be that guy.
Mamá means "Mom," of course. Abuelita means "Granny." Snaps is a shot of an alcoholic beverage that Swedes take during the course of a meal, especially at holidays. Usually it is aquavit, a Swedish spirit distilled from grain/potatoes and flavored with herbs, but it can also be other types of alcohol. There is a tradition of singing songs called snapsvisor before drinking snaps.
"Photograph" is a 2005 song by Canadian rock band Nickelback. It was one of their biggest hits, reaching the top ten in several countries. Memes based on the music video still make the rounds today. The band itself became a bit of a joke in the late 2000s and the 2010s due to certain groups of music fans considering their music derivative and "selling out," but perhaps the joke's on them because they've been an undisputed commercial success throughout their career. They tend to be good sports about their meme status. (I unironically love Nickelback. Fight me.)
The merengue song Simon and Wille dance to is "La Cosquillita" by Juan Luis Guerra. The lyrics Simon sings are difficult to translate directly, but the gist of it is the singer is telling a girl that they like when she kisses them on the mouth. It is a very fast-paced song, and some skill and practice are required if you want to do anything more than basic merengue dancing. You can see some basic twirls to that song here and here— but Simon meant just the twirls, not the spins and the lifts and the theatrics. I actually had a classmate in high school who used to practice salsa/merengue twirls with his younger sister and I always thought that was really cool. (I can do twirls, technically. I'm just really bad at not leading. xD) The song they slow-dance to after is "Beautiful" by Duncan Laurence.
The story of Pyramus and Thisbe is depicted in Ovid's Metamorphosis (some fifteen centuries before Shakespeare) but is itself the written-down form of a story from Babylonian folklore. The story goes, Pyramus and Thisbe were in love, but their families were enemies and forbid them to marry, so they had to talk to each other through a hole in the wall. They agree to meet under a mulberry tree but when Thisbe gets there, she sees a lion with its maw bloody from a recent kill. She flees, but leaves her cloak. When Pyramus gets there, he thinks Thisbe was killed by the lion, and he kills himself, his blood staining the mulberries. When Thisbe finds out what happened, she kills herself as well. Afterward, the gods colored mulberries red in honor of their love. Sound familiar? ;)
Spanish translations:
* "Gracias, amor." = "Thank you, love."
* "Ese es Marcus?" = "Is that Marcus?"
* "Es casi como que Wilhelm fuera parte de la familia, no?" = "It's almost like Wilhelm was part of the family, isn't it?"
Next up: Uh... maybe try not to get too excited for Monday... *flinch* (Also, note that the chapter count has changed.)
You can find me on Tumblr (girls-are-weird), Mastodon (cpinillad at creativewriting social), Post (cpinillad), Spoutible (cpinillad), or even on Discord. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so let me know if you enjoyed it as much as I did! See you guys soon.