Helloooo! For the prompts, if you're still doing them. #32, “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified."
So excited to see where you take this!
Thanks @knopityknope! Belatedly making good on these prompts... I may be slow but I've enjoyed writing these and my asks are clear so feel free to send more.
“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified" + Wilmon. Post-canon, aged-up. Teen, 1.1k. Continued below the cut or read on A03.
With his eyes closed and headphones on, Simon isn’t aware of his presence until Wille is already rolling onto the bed beside him, angled sideways so his feet hang off the edge. He presses his face against Simon’s ribs and Simon feels him inhale deeply.
Simon slips the headphones off one ear. “Hey,” he murmurs. “What’s up?”
“Taking a break. I need to finish this before I can let myself go to bed, but just wanted to be near you for a minute.”
“Okay.” Simon dances his fingers down Wille’s bare arm, tracing the cluster of freckles above his elbow. “I’m just chilling.”
“What are you listening to?”
“My phone is nearly full so I was trying to delete stuff and found some old stuff I forgot I had on there.”
“What kind of old stuff?” Wille lifts his head to rest his chin on Simon’s stomach.
Simon squirms. “Like voice memos, songs I was working on.”
“How old are we talking?”
“Mostly high school. A few from uni.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Simon says casually. He knows that glint in Wille’s eye. “Never did anything with them.”
“Can I hear them?”
“No.”
“Simon,” Wille wheedles.
“Of course they’re about you, if that’s what you’re after,” Simon scoffs, but his lips twitch.
Wille slings an arm across Simon’s waist and squeezes. “Please?”
“Absolutely not.”
Wille skates cool fingers up under the hem of Simon’s shirt. “Why not?”
“Because they’re not good.”
“I’ll be judge of that.”
“No, you won’t. Because I’ve already deleted them.”
“Simon!” Wille jolts. “No!”
The flicker of genuine feeling that passes across Wille’s face is enough to make Simon soften. “I didn’t delete them. Yet.”
“You can’t! I want to hear them. Please?”
“No. You’ll be insufferable.”
Wille wiggles an eyebrow, grinning that toothy grin that still makes Simon’s stomach jump even after all this time. “Please?”
“Wille,” Simon groans.
“At least keep them for yourself.” Wille’s voice is suddenly serious, as he absently traces a pattern with his finger on the sensitive skin above Simon’s hip. “For… To remember the you you were back then.”
Simon shivers. “You’re a sap.”
Wille shrugs good-naturedly and Simon feels the movement over his entire body.
“How about a trade?”
Simon gives him a questioning look, and Wille rolls himself off Simon, off the bed, and only pauses when he’s in the doorway to toss back, “just give me a sec.”
“I thought you had something to finish up before we go to bed?” Simon calls after him.
When Wille returns two minutes later with one of his old notebooks, which Simon knows are usually stashed behind a row of books in the living room, he slides cross-legged onto the bed, facing Simon.
He flips through the pages, eyes scanning, that focused furrow in his brow that Simon adores, and he suddenly wonders if he’s ever told Wille how much.
“Aha,” Wille murmurs with satisfaction. “Here’s one.” He sets the notebook down and unfolds a piece of paper that was tucked in between the pages.
His eyes scan across the sheet. When he glances up to meet Simon’s questioning gaze, his eyes are a bit shinier than a moment ago.
“Simon,” Wille begins. He clears his throat.
“I know everything has gotten so fucked up. I never know what to do.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not Alexander’s fault. It’s not my fault. I wish it were August’s fault but it kind of isn’t. It’s just a shitty situation.
“Did this kind of stuff ever happen to Erik? What did he do? I wish I could ask him.”
It feels strange to be the only one laying down so Simon awkwardly curls up to sit so he’s facing Wille fully, legs splayed. His eyes never leave Wille’s face.
Wille pauses as he adjusts, then goes on:
“I don't know what to do. I wish he were here. I wish you were here.
“I know you're mad at me. Would you still hold me? Or let me hold you? Maybe this wouldn't feel so impossible if you were here.
“I just wanted to feel okay for a little bit... At the party. Or not even okay. Just… blank. Not horrible. Not Erik gone. You gone. Not my future… what the fuck even is my future? How is that even me?
“I’m afraid I’m about to lose you again. And it feels even worse this time, now that I’ve gotten to have you to be with you to know what it’s like to be with you, even a little bit. I think I'm in love I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”
Wille clears his throat again. “Uh, that’s it.”
Simon rests his hands on Wille’s thighs, bracing himself so he can lean in to press a light kiss to the corner of Wille’s mouth, his cheek, just below his eye, where unshed tears glint. “When did you write that?” he says, voice low.
“Uh…” Wille flips the page over. “It must have been before Lucia. Remember how everything–“
“I remember,” Simon cuts him off gently. He presses a kiss to Wille’s mouth. “I think I'm in love with you, too.”
He feels Wille smile against his lips. “Love you.”
They're quiet for a moment, faces close.
“Guess I have to let you listen to one of my songs now, huh?” Simon finally says, but he knows the wet gravel of his voice gives him away.
Simon sits back to scoop up his phone. He toggles through, forehead creased in concentration. “Okay. So remember Rousseau?”
“What–? Felice’s–?”
Simon is helpless to hold a straight face when confronted with Wille’s comically surprised expression, and neither can contain the laughter that bubbles up.
“No more fucking with me,” Wille grumbles. “I was all vulnerable.”
Finally Simon pulls back. “So. Remember those weeks we stayed at Felice’s lake house that first summer? And you found me messing around on the piano a few times?”
Wille nods happily.
“While you were perfecting your overhand serve, I was busy being embarrassing.”
Simon passes Wille the headphones.
“I never gave it a proper title because I never really finished it, but it’s the one called Wrong-v2....”
Not this song but recommended watching for vibes. 😍
Two small dots for eyes, slightly uneven, and a downturned mouth so dramatic it almost looks theatrical. A sad face. A deeply, unmistakably miserable little face floating in the center of his latte.
Wilhelm blinks at it.
Then he looks up.
Simon is watching him with his mouth pressed together in what is very clearly an attempt not to smile. It fails almost immediately. One corner of his mouth lifts, then the other, and before Wilhelm can decide whether or not he has imagined the whole thing, Simon tips his head slightly to one side and makes the exact same expression as the latte, eyebrows raised in sympathy, lips pulling into an exaggerated pout.
The laugh escapes Wilhelm before he can stop it.
TLDR: Wilhelm is a lawyer having a terrible day, until a barista with an adorable pout turns more than just his day around.
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