A/N: Wow, it has been a while! Sorry about that guys! I'm still around, I haven't gone anywhere! Not sure if anyone will still read this, but I'll continue it anyway :) Let me know what you guys think. Things are going to pick up after this chapter, that is for sure! I know it seems kind of slow now, but it won't stay that way. Enjoy!

Simon vs The Future

Chapter 5

Bram's Point of View:

We got home, having argued the whole way about the Martin situation, and didn't speak once we got in the door. Simon barricaded himself in the bedroom, blasting music so he couldn't hear me asking to talk. I gave him his space, and left the apartment to go to Garrett's.

"He's refusing to let Martin plan the wedding?"

"It wasn't even determined he was the one planning it…but yeah, essentially," I sighed, popping a grape into my mouth. Garrett leaned into the counter top, and popped a few grapes before shrugging thoughtfully.

"I don't understand…Simon was there when we told him the story of what happened with him and Jenson-right?"

"Yeah, but it's almost like he doesn't want to forgive him for the shit that happened in high school. I mean… I forgave Martin for making it so hard for me to come out, and ruining Simon's life in the process…but I don't know…I guess it's his place to really decide that."

"Yeah, but still- Martin punched out Jenson! And it was fucking epic!"

"I know, but it doesn't change what happened," I explained, sympathizing with Simon about his reasons.

"I don't know…I think he should give him a chance," Garrett pushed himself upright. "I'm just saying, he could surprise ya'," he added.

"I know, that's what I'm saying."

"Did you say that to Simon?"

"I tried, but all he kept saying was that I was blind, and Martin was bound to fuck something up."

"What's a wedding if there isn't conflict?"

"Yeah, but you know Simon…if Martin's involved- it wouldn't be a casual, 'take a deep breath- this will all be okay' type situation. No- world war three would ensue."

"True," Garrett stared down, leaning back into the counter. I shoved a couple more grapes into my mouth and groaned.

"This is supposed to be an exciting time for us, Garrett and so far…so far it's been a shit show. It hasn't even been a month!"

"I mean…wedding's are stressful-"

"Not this stressful! We should just elope and go from there," I rolled my eyes.

"No, come on," Garrett smirked. "Stop that, you're going to be fine. Just…'take a deep breath- this will all be okay'," Garrett quoted with a grin. I glared at him with a slight smile creeping up, but I pushed it far away.

"I'm happy to have you as my best man, seriously," I chuckled softly to myself, tapping my fingertips together in my lap.

"B-best man? ...I'm your best man?" Garrett questioned, placing a hand to his chest.

"Of course you are, who else would be?" I asked, laughing at his reaction.

"I'm so honored! I figured you would have asked Caleb or someone else…aw Bram!" He came around my side of the island and hugged me around my shoulders.

"I'm not going to let you down! Thank you!" his voice cracked as he spoke.

I brought my right arm across my body to give Garrett's wrist a squeeze.

"No problem," I said, smiling. Garrett held me longer than what felt comfortable so I kicked him off. He apologized and went back to his side.

"So, are you going to try and get Simon to agree to let Fran do the wedding?"

"With everything in me…my mom and Simon's mom are crazy with wedding plans, and I don't think I can handle them doing it for another nine months or how ever long we have at this point." I threw my hands in the air wildly.

"Yeah, your mom can get a little obsessive about things."

"She means well," I shrug, lifting the glass of iced tea Garrett had poured for me, up to my lips.

"Of course, but if you can get away with not having them help- then you're good."

"Yeah, I know," I nodded. I stood from my seat and pushed it in. "I'm going to get going. It's been a few hours, so hopefully he's calmed down some."

"Alright, keep your best man informed, please." Garrett beamed, walking me out the door. I shook my head at his expression of pure joy and got into my car. My phone chimed, and I had a text from Caleb.

Caleb: Hey, what are you doing?

Bram: Just leaving Garrett's, what about you?

Caleb: Just catching up on some homework. I felt like talking to you instead tho, cause I literally hate algebra.

Bram: Ugh, I feel you on that one...hey, are you still coming next weekend?

Caleb: Oh…did you not talk to dad?

Bram: What?

When I didn't get an answer right away, I put my phone down and hit the call button on the steering wheel. It beeped, prompting me to speak.

"Call Caleb," I asked. 'Calling Caleb Greenfeld', the speakers announced. The phone began ringing and after three rings he answered.

"Hey, bud…what's going on?" I asked sounding concerned, turning out of Garrett's neighborhood. There was a heavy sigh on his end, and he didn't say anything at first.

"Caleb-"

"Bram…look, Dad's been having a hard time convincing mom to let me stay with you and Simon."

"What, why?"

"I don't know…she's been weird ever since you called Dad and told them you were getting married."

"…Caleb, don't let her-"

"Bram, I love you and you know that…I also couldn't careless that you're gay, and you know dad doesn't care either-"

"Lately it doesn't feel like that," I mumbled.

"I know, and that's all mom…you have to realize she's the reason dad gets the way he does. She gets into his head and…well you know..."

"Yeah, I know," I grumbled.

"So please try to go easy on him," he sounded as if he were pleading with me.

"Caleb…it's a little more complicated than being able to 'go easy' on him…this is my life and I shouldn't feel like someone else is controlling me. You should never let someone control your feelings…aaa-nd now I'm a hypocrite," I sighed, thinking back to Simon and his feelings toward Martin.

"What?"

"Simon and I had a fight and it's stupid, but I feel like a jackass for telling him he should be able to move on."

"That sucks…I hope you can make up."

"Me too. I mean- I know we will, but everything is a little stressful right now."

"Are you guys okay?" he said hesitantly.

"Yeah, we're fine," I said, reassuring him.

"Oh, good…well in the mean time I'm going to try and get dad to work something out with mom. I'll let you know what's happening."

"Okay, sounds good. I love you," I said, hovering my thumb over the 'end call' button.

"Love you too," he said, and I hit the button.

I pushed through the door and laid my keys in the bowl on the hall table. Elliott Smith was no longer blasting in the bedroom, but I could make out a faint clinking of a spoon inside a mug coming from the kitchen. I walked further into the apartment, and Simon walked out from the kitchen with a purple, textured ceramic mug in hand. We made eye contact and he stopped abruptly.

"Hi…" I spoke first. He lowered the mug from his lips and held it about chest level.

"…Hey," he answered back. He was considerably calmer since coming home the first time, and even seemed a bit melancholy. "I'm sorry that I-" he started, but I interrupted him by bringing my hand up quickly.

"No-no. I'm the one who should be sorry…I shouldn't have tried to make you see it my way, as if that was the only way to go about things… You have every right to feel the way you do about Martin."

"But Bram-"

"No, Simon. You're right to be standoffish when it comes to him. I shouldn't push you to change your mind. He was involved in probably the most awkward, nerve wracking time in our lives, and I can see why you wouldn't want him involved in what should be the best time of our lives."

"Bram, I-"

"Simon…I love you, and I don't care how we get married, but all I know is that I want to marry you. Today, tomorrow, the next day- five years from now… I want to be married to you forever."

"So do I," he smiled, but it faded. "I hate when we fight like this."

"Me too, and I don't want to fight with you ever again because I rather every word that comes out of my mouth be from love and not hate."

"Bram…we're going to fight, and that's a given. Hell, I don't know if I'd be able to stand all the love," he chuckled. "But when we do fight…everything I say to you is because I love you and I want to fix things. I don't want to go our whole lives deciding things just because we're too afraid to fight."

"I feel exactly the same way," I said, starting toward him. He placed his mug on the table and walking into my embrace. "I love you, Simon."

"I love you more," his breathing shuttered as he snuggled his face into my neck. I clung to him, holding tighter as he balled the back of my shirt into his fists.

I pulled his shoulders back gently, gaining access to his lips. I looked into his eyes, and he blinked a few tears away before passionately kissing me. I glided my right hand over his lower back, bunching the hem of his shirt in my fingers until my palm pressed firmly against his skin. The fingers of my other hand found their way through the strands of hair that smelled of the coconut shampoo I had in the shower. My lips massaged his hungrily, wanting to be closer in the only way standing here together could possibly allow.

"Mm, bedroom," Simon mumbled through kisses. His hands were holding firmly to the nape of my neck, not allowing me to move away. I instead guided his hips toward the couch.

"Mm," I moaned, pressing kisses to his jaw before planting my lips to his neck.

"B, Oh-" Simon jerked at the feeling of me slipping my hands down the back of his sweatpants. I cupped my hands, pulling up, drawing a subtle gasp from him.

"You wanted to say something?" I grinned playfully, continuing to place feather light kisses to the exposed skin just above the collar of his shirt.

"We went the wrong way," Simon chuckled, rubbing his hands over my shoulders, bringing his hands up to cup my face.

"No we didn't," I hummed over his lips before stealing another kiss.

"The couch?" Simon raised his eyebrows. I nodded, and lowered him onto the cushions gracefully.

"Let me have this," I said, rolling my fingers under his shirt, and drawing it up over his head. He played with the buckle of my belt, finally getting it undone and fanning open the flaps of my jeans. I settled above him, kissing almost every inch of his face. Simon slipped his hand down my boxer briefs, taking hold of me, stroking his hand back and forth.

Simon's Point of View:

Just as I was about to take a firm hold of Bram, the doorbell rang. I froze with my hand down his pants, and his eyes locked on mine. His brow knitted together, and he cocked his head slightly before looking over his shoulder toward the door.

"No, no. Pretend we didn't hear it!" I whispered, pulling at his neck with my free hand.

"How can we pretend, Simon?"

"By not answering it," I stated urgently, trying to capture his attention again. The bell rang through the silence again, and Bram continued to look past the couch to the foyer. "No," I pleaded. Bram turned back to me, and dipped down to place a kiss to my lips. I was hopeful for a mere second until he pushed himself upright and leapt from the couch. My hand, once warm, was now cold and limp in my lap.

"Come on!" I whined, closing my eyes. Curse his mother, and how she trained him to always be polite.

Bram jogged to the door, buttoning his jeans. I listened bitterly as he opened the door and gave a quiet, yet surprised, "Oh, uh hi-"

I sat up, and held onto the couch for support while I tried to catch a glimpse of our unexpected guest.

"I'm sorry to just show up like this- I had gotten your address from the little paperwork you filled out…but I had to come talk to you guys," the heavy, apprehensive voice spoke softly.

"Oh, okay. Uh, come on in," Bram insisted, standing back to allow the person in. Francis stepped into our foyer looking back at Bram as he shut the door. Eventually his troubled eyes found me, and softened.

"Hi," he spoke up, waving to me. I gave an uncertain wave back, and furrowed my brows. Bram led him into the living room where we were just about to get busy, and pointed to a chair across the way.

He took his seat, and looked at the both of us. My hair had to be somewhat more messy than usual; I could just sense his eyes on it. Then his gaze fell to the floor where my shirt was.

"Oh…OH- my god, I'm so sorry…I didn't mean to interrupt anything-"

"No, no! It's okay!" I raised my voice, offering my hand up at him. I slapped Bram's arm to retrieve my shirt. Once it was back on my body, I glanced at Francis to speak. I ran my hands through my hair a few times before clearing my throat.

"So…you had to talk to us?" I asked.

"Oh, yes…Simon, you specifically. Well, I guess it has to do with both of you, but Simon I-"

"If it's about how I stormed out of the store, I apologize. Your brother and I don't have the best history and-"

"Oh no, nah-no, I definitely know that now. I never had gotten the whole story about what happened to be honest. He only shared with me that, 'something' happened in high school, and that at the reunion a few years back he punched out your ex for you…that's all I got."

"So…what is it that you know?" Bram asked.

"Right- I made him explain to me in full detail, how just his presence alone caused you to leave abruptly like you did. He then proceeded to tell me the whole story, and I'm honestly surprised by my ability to keep from beating him. Simon, I'm so sorry my brother is such an idiot. If he had told me anything of what he was doing back in high school, I would have- god I don't even know what I would have done. He had no right to blackmail you, and then out you to the world. Sometimes Martin isn't the greatest person, but he is my brother and because of that I feel obligated to apologize on his behalf."

"Look, Francis…I appreciate you coming all the way here and apologizing for Martin, but he really needs to do it himself. He apologized many a times when I still had communication with him, but honestly they were never heartfelt. They always felt like he was trying to excuse his behavior, and cover his ass. I need something better than what he has already given me."

"No, I completely understand!" Francis waved his hands at me. "I just wanted to come apologize for the fact of the matter."

"And it's greatly appreciated," Bram added, placing a hand to my knee. I nodded, and took Bram's hand into mine.

"Look, boys…I completely understand if you no longer are seeking the help of Perla Planned Weddings, but just know that if you change your minds I will keep your date locked in for us and you can hit me up whenever you want."

"Thanks, Francis. We'll have to think about it," Bram spoke up. He stood from his seat beside me, drawing Francis from his own seat as he got the hint. "We'll be in touch," Bram spoke flatly, walking him to the door.

I waited for Bram to come back, but he went into the kitchen instead. I sat on the couch thinking about how much effort Francis put in to making sure we got some sort of apology and I instantly felt horrible for saying 'we'd think about it'.

Bram came back to the living room and just as he approached the couch he tore off his shirt, and threw it aside.

"What are you doing?" I asked with my eyes growing wide.

"We were getting somewhere before I answered the door," Bram started.

"Correct- before you answered the door. I'm no longer in the mood," I smirked, getting up from the couch and moving to the dining area to retrieve my mug again.

"Wait, are you mad again?" Bram called out to me.

"No, not mad…just can't stop thinking about Martin," I said, sipping my tea.

"Wait…what?" Bram squeaked from the other room. I chuckled to myself and found my way into our bedroom.

The next day I drove downtown to Perla Planned Weddings and sat just outside the storefront. I gripped the steering wheel and sighed deeply before deciding if this was something I really needed to do.

"Screw it," I shrugged, getting out of the car. I walked up to the door and smiled at the girl at the reception desk. She was different than the girl from our visit. Her deep auburn hair was twisted into a tight knot on the top of her head, and her glasses appeared two sizes too big for her face. She held her wide smile through her confusion, and looked through her guest book.

"Hi, how are you today?" she welcomed me, still checking over her pages.

"Good, yourself?" I asked back.

"Good," she nodded slowly, before peering back up at me. "Did you have an appointment today?" she questioned.

"Not really…I was looking for Martin actually. Is he here?"

"Oh, Mr. Addison is in with a client in the parlor at the moment. Did you want me to take a message for you?" she asked, getting out a piece of paper.

"No, actually could you just get him? He'll want to talk to me. Tell him Simon is here," I explained, jerking my shoulder out of annoyance. I let my eyes wonder around the foyer while she gingerly interrupted Martin as he spoke to the couple.

"Uh, Mr. Addison. You have a guest out front. He needs to see you right now," she explained.

"Can you tell them to come back in an hour? I'm with a client," he replied.

"It's Sim-"

"Simon!?" Martin came buzzing around the corner, and straight over to me.

"Hey," I jutted my chin out at him. I shoved my hands into my pockets and stared at him.

"Hey buddy, what's going on?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips. His sport jacket fanned open at the sides, revealing more of his hideous coral colored dress shirt that just about burned my eyes.

"First, not your buddy. Second, I need to talk to you. Is this a good time?" I asked.

"Well actually I'm in with a cli-" he began until he read the expression on my face. "But you know…this is a perfect time. Let me just move something around."

I pursed my lips, flashing my palms at him. "Not necessary, just tell them you'll be a minute. This shouldn't take long," I grinned, throwing my arm around his shoulders. He motioned for the receptionist to tell the couple, and followed as I guided us towards the office we originally sat in yesterday. I closed the door behind us, and smiled uncomfortably at him.

"Does this work?" I asked, looking around. Martin hesitantly nodded, and I motioned for him to take a seat. "Good," I nodded.

"Uh, Simon…what's going on?" he asked.

"I want an apology."

"What?" Martin tucked his chin, staring up at me.

"Exactly what I just said. I want an apology- but not just any apology. I want the apology I deserve. I want you to tell me how sorry you are, and on top of that I want Perla Planned Weddings to plan my wedding…but not just any kind of wedding- no." I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest. "The best wedding you've ever done. I want everything to be perfect, and I also want a discount…a good discount."

"Y-you want a discount?" he questioned, sounding rightfully confused.

"A discount and an apology."

"Uh…um, alright…Simon, I-"

"Nah, wait…something doesn't look right…get on your knees," I said, pointing to the ground.

"Excuse me?" he nearly screeches, as he stares at me in disbelief.

"You heard me. Get on your knees."

"Um…" Martin shook out his confusion and dropped from the chair to the floor on his knees. He looks up at me with quirked eyebrows and a frown. I cock my head to the side, and lean down to grab his hands. I make him place his clammy paws together in a pleading manner and he rolls his eyes.

"Proceed," I nod, crossing my arms against my body again.

"O-kay…uh, Simon, I'm very sorry for the things I did back in high school…I, uh…I shouldn't have done them…and I hope you can forgive me," he pulls his hands apart and shrugs his palms up. He tugs the corner of his mouth up in question and waits for me to react. "Better?" he asks.

"What kind of half-ass apology do you call that?"

"A pretty good apology considering what I've already done for you?" Martin says, dropping his hands. I shoot him a harsh look as a warning and he instantly straightens. "A-alright…I'm sorry for blackmailing you, and making high school difficult. I didn't mean for things to get that out of control and I should have never did it…I'm sorry."

"And?"

"Aaand…I'm sorry I exist?" Martin questioned, unsure of the last statement. I was particularly okay with it, but he seemed to be saying it sarcastically from what I could tell.

"Is that all you're sorry for?" I waited, watching his face soften.

"Simon…it's been years, and I've apologized as many times as I can remember. I'm sorry, and I will always be sorry. I tried to make up for it, but I'm not sure what else there is for me to apologize for…"

"Okay…fair enough. Thank you for finally saying it in a meaningful way…all the other times sounded like you were apologizing for getting caught. I needed to hear it this way."

"Fine," Martin nodded. "Now…can I get back to my clients?"

"Not yet," I said, plopping down on the couch across from him. I grabbed the book from the coffee table before me, and flipped to the pricing page.

"What is this gold package I was reading about yesterday?" I asked, scanning over all the different pricing options.

"Oh, that?" his face brightened as he jumped to his feet. "That's like the crème de la crème of the wedding packages we offer. It comes with just about everything you can think of."

"You don't say?" I say, hinting at a bit of sarcasm as I flip through the pages. "It's very expensive," I speak up.

"It is-very expensive…" his tone drops, which almost brings a smile to my face. He's catching on I think. "We, uh don't do it very often, but when we do- it ends up being some of the most beautiful events we plan."

"Hmm…I'd like to do the Gold Package…but I want half-off."

"Half-off?!" Martin nearly choked, having to grip the couch to keep from falling over.

"Is that going to be a problem? Because Bram and I can go elsewhere," I shrugged casually, closing the book.

"No, wait! Let me talk to Fran and see what can be done…I'm sure he'll be more than okay with working out something for you guys. We typically don't give any kind of discounts on the Gold packages, but I'm sure Fran can-"

"I don't think you need to discuss anything… I think what we're going to do is go with the gold package and you're going to give us half-off, and that be the end of it? Okay? Bram or myself will call later this week to set up another appointment to come in and discuss it. Sound good?" I asked, standing from the couch and walked over to the door. I looked back at Martin whose body was clenching tightly, and his expression unreadable. "Well?" I raised my eyebrows at him. He eventually broke away from his tense, painful expression and nodded.

"Sure…anything you want," he nods, waving me off.

"Cool…thanks, buddy, " I smiled, closing the door behind me. I leave the store, and once back in my car I can't help but feel accomplished and majorly full of myself.

A/N: Let me know what you guys thought... This chapter took way too long to get out. But I'm glad I was able to push through my writers block!