Linda parks the car in front of the school and sees Simon approaching with a friend of his, laughing all the way and wave their hands goodbye before he gets in and immediately puts his seatbelt on, as he is instructed so many times.
"How was school today, honey?"
"It was awesome. I got a star."
"That's amazing," she chuckles. "Who was your friend?"
"That's Wille," he giggles. "I am going to marry him. That is who I am going to marry." He keeps giggling, and Linda can see from the rearview mirror that his cheeks are pink and he is all flustered. He is so cute. Linda can't believe her little baby is experiencing love for the first time and she can be a witness to it so freely.
"Are you sure? What if you change your mind in the future?"
"No, never." Simon crosses his arms; he sounds so adamant. Oh, her heart soars. He is so adorable.
"Do you love him?"
"Yes, I love him. He is so silly and funny."
"Oh, really? That is so nice. What do you love most about him?"
"I love his heart."
"You love his heart?" How can this little human being spend so little time in the world but know how to express his feelings so easily?
"Yeah, and he always makes me laugh. He thinks I am pretty and kind and so smart. He is not like other boys. They are mean, but Wille is always so nice to me. I fell, and my knee hurt a little bit today, and he kissed it to make it better. So I decided to marry him one day. But not right now."
Oh, things are getting pretty serious for two six-year-old boys. Linda chuckles, holding her chest. She might be tearing up as well.
"Why is that?"
"Because old people get married, duh. And we are not old. You are old, and you are married." Ouch. Children always know how to humble their parents.
"Can you become friends with his mom?"
"Why is that?"
"So we could have playdates and spend time outside of school, too."
"That is really good idea, carino."
"His favorite drink is hot chocolate. Can you make it when he comes to play at our house?
"Of course. I will have to meet his parents first."
"You better hurry. I miss him when we are not at school."
Her heart can't really take it. Linda doesn't know if this is just the purest form of friendship or something more, but if it is the latter, she knows they will have to endure a lifetime of teasing.
in honor of 500 (!!) kudos on one of my favorite things I've ever written, just if for a minute, aka the fake marriage-friends to lovers au, here's a short little drabble I wrote about what those two (not) fake married boys are up to now 💜 and thank u so much for 500!!! wtf!!!
“Baby?”
Simon’s voice comes back slightly muffled from across the apartment, “Yeah?”
“Have you seen that blue button up of mine?” Wille calls back, shuffling through their mess of a closet. “The nice one with the stripes?”
There’s a pause, then Wille hears a loud sigh and the quiet pat-pat-pat of Simon’s socked feet on hard wood. One moment later, the exasperated face of his darling husband — husband! — appears in the doorway.
“Wille,” Simon says softly, as if speaking to a naughty child. “Darling. Light of my life. It’s a beach vacation. Grab two pairs of swim trunks and call it a day.”
“It’s not just a beach vacation,” Wille pouts.
With another small sigh and fond shake of his head, Simon steps fully into the room and loops his arms around Wille’s neck. Though Wille is still pouting slightly, it’s mostly for show, and his hands find their place on Simon’s waist, thumbs slipping under his sweater to rub small, gentle circles into warm skin.
“You’re right,” Simon nods, tucking his face into Wille’s neck. “It’s not just a beach vacation. But seeing as it is our honeymoon, that makes clothes even less of a necessity.”
The teasing tone in Simon’s voice and small nip of teeth on the sensitive skin under his ear pulls a giggle from Wille, and he buries his face in Simon’s curls, inhaling the calming scent.
Two months. Two months since their wedding, which had started out fake and very nearly been a total disaster but was saved at the last minute by a long-overdue (and luckily mutual) love confession. Two months since their wedding, which is altogether not very long at all, in the grand scheme of things, even if they had technically been in love with each other for the past few (many) years.
As such, the fact that Wille is standing here, in the bedroom of their shared apartment—shared before but is now shared in a wholly different way—with Simon, his husband, all wrapped up in his arms still makes his head spin. And, technically, it’s their second bedroom, formerly Simon’s bedroom which is now more of an office space—also, the very handy storage place for summer clothes while they’re in the thick of Swedish winter.
The words husband and shared and honeymoon swirl around in Wille’s brain as Simon wiggles out of his arms and turns to search for the shirt Wille’d asked about. Simon is right, it’s a beach vacation, and though they have been married for two months, the holiday season has been a whirlwind, and Wille has not been able to have Simon all to himself as much as he’s wanted to. This honeymoon will finally allow them to have that, a week and a half in the sun and sand, clothing optional.
“Did you pack that new sunscreen I bought today?”
“Oh, so I’m not allowed to bring clothes, but you can bring seven tubes of sunscreen?” Wille teases, following Simon as he slips out into the hallway and across to their bedroom, with their bed, that they sleep in every night together. His husband.
“The fact that you’re not allowed to bring clothes,” Simon retorts, “is the reason for all the sunscreen, Dracula.”
“Hey!” He pinches at Simon’s hips, then gets tackled back onto the bed in retaliation.
They roll together over the winter quilts, laughing and wriggling fingers under sweaters to tickle at soft spots of skin. Simon yelps when Wille gets him on the bum and quickly manages to win the wrestling match, pinning Wille back to the bed, wrists over his head and pressed into the pillows. He hovers over Wille, cheeks flushed pink and chest heaving, a big, proud grin on his face.
Wille smirks at him. “This is not the win you think it is,” he says, glancing down at where Simon has settled into this lap.
Fondly, Simon scoffs and rolls his eyes, starting to move away, which simply won’t do. Using his newly freed wrists, Wille loops his arms around Simon’s waist and flips them, wrapping himself around his husband like a koala.
“Wille!” Simon squeals, squirming and giggling. “We’ve got to finish packing! Our flight is in the morning!”
The last few words get partially cut-off by breathless laughter, but he stops trying to get away when Wille murmurs, “Just a minute or two more,” into the skin on Simon’s neck, nuzzling his face there.
They’ll probably stay there a bit longer than a few minutes, but they don’t mind. Simon is right, anyway; it’s their honeymoon, being clothed is way further down on the list than just being in each other’s arms as much as possible.
"Sara!" Simon whisper-yelled from the dining room. "What are you doing? Mamá is sleeping upstairs! You need to be quiet!"
It was late in the morning on a Saturday, and their mother Linda had just come in a few hours ago from a night shift at the local hospital. Simon and Sara, old enough to fend on their own for the day, were left with strict instructions to reheat last night's leftovers and to not answer the door should anyone except Ayub come down to visit.
"But Simon," Sara replied, near to tears but refusing to accept it, "I want to make a sandwich! The cutlery drawer won't--it won't open."
Simon entered the kitchen with a thoughtful frown. He was only eight years old, but already he was used to solving his sister's problems for her lest she disturb their hardworking mother from her much-needed sleep.
"Something's jamming it closed," he said after inspecting the problem for a solid minute. "Here, let me…" He went on his tip toes to grab a metal fish slice from the countertop, then used it to jimmy the drawer open. "…fix it, ha!"
Her distress disappearing, Sara beamed at her brother. "Thank you, Simon."
from this list | read more yr drabbles | my 100 wtsily tag
Thank you for the YR drabble event prompts! Feel free to send me more by dropping a song lyric in my ask box, and I'll write you something including / inspired by it for the event ❣️🎹
The post Summer of Love honeymoon fic that I abandoned.
It’s annoying, aggravating to say the least, that a single person is allowed to look so damn hot while doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. But that’s just Simon. Effortless and attractive in conventional and somehow unconventional ways.
Maybe it’s the delicate slope of his nose, or the pink flower to his lips, or perhaps it’s how the sun glistens over his skin without accenting a single flaw, or how it clings onto the perfect curls he manages to roll out of bed with. Something Wilhelm has made note of since he started spending almost every night at Simon’s house. But now, even while out on open water with wind sweeping through his hair, it remains perfect in contrast to Wilhelm's, which insists on swaying across his eyes and somehow catching in his mouth. He didn’t even think it’s long enough to do that, and yet here he is, fishing a strand from his tongue looking like an absolute fool.
“You alright there?” Simon teases, chuckling at Wilhelm’s attempt to grab the damn thing only to land himself a string out spit that falls to his chin.
Squinting against the sun Wilhelm slumps back in his seat, directly across from his partner at the head of the speed boat.
“Remind me to cut my hair once we’ve hit solid ground,” Wilhelm huffs while dramatically shoving the locks from his forehead.
“Never,” Simon winks before focusing back on the water.
"Is he on the bus?" Sara asks as soon as the call connects.
"Yes," Simon answers, trying to keep calm and steady, but he doesn't know if he is succeeding. "It is more than that, actually."
"What do you mean?"
"I will tell you when I get off the bus. This is really not a good time," he says. He can almost feel the heat coming from the next seat.
"Is he sitting next to you?" Sara exclaims, and Simon curses under his breath.
"Yes," Simon mumbles, turning a subtle glance to the man next to him. His long-term crush, who happens to be on the same bus every morning. He gets on the bus after Simon, and this time he chooses to sit next to him. There were a lot of other vacant seats, but that doesn't mean the cute stranger is in love with him. Simon is halfway there, though.
"Oh my god, that is why you have been giving one-sentence replies. How come you didn't melt into a puddle right now?"
"Shut up, Sara. I am already---"
"Freaking out?" she snickers, having to much fun with her brother's predicament.
"Kind of."
"Ask him out."
"No."
"Ask. Him. Out."
"I can't." Simon sighs. "I want to, but you know I can't."
"Then don't come to me to gush about how pretty he is again. I am tired. What is the worst thing that could happen anyway?"
"He could hear me." Simon says, turning to his side to find the cute stranger scrolling aimlessly on his phone with a very pretty smile on his face. What could be the reason to make him smile like that?
"Ask for his number, invite him for a cup of coffee. Please, make a move today. You have never been this close."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"Oh my god, Simon. You are so infuriating. I am hanging up. You are a lost cause."
And she does. Simon can only notice now that the stranger didn't get off at his usual stop. Maybe he needs to be somewhere else.
"The volume of your phone is so high. It might damage your ears," the cute guy interrupts his mixed thoughts all of a sudden.
"Huh?"
"The volume," he says flatly. "Even I could hear your whole conversation." he gives him a small smile, and Simon is almost blinded by it, and then it hits him.
"The whole conversation?" Simon is appalled. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him.
"Mhm hmm."
"Oh my god!" Simon yells, "Did you hear everything?"
"Yes, every word. Was that your sister? Only a sibling can bully someone like that." he chuckles.
Simon tries to think of something, anything, to get rid of this embarrassment. The cute stranger only looks at him with a huge grin. He must be very entertained thanks to Simon being a complete idiot.
"So..." he asks.
"So?" Simon repeats the question in confusion. What is he expecting anyway?
Simon has been eyeing the cute customer for the past thirty minutes. He has been here a couple of times before, but he was always in a rush, and this is the first time he stayed that long. He knows he shouldn't, but he is so hot and sweet, so what else can he do but appreciate a man's beauty from afar?
The guy, Wille, as he wrote in his cup with a little latte art he carefully crafted, a heart obviously, but that is a very generic thing, so he probably didn't think it was a sign, ignoring the fact that Simon doesn't know if he even likes guys.
He has been on his phone for a while now, texting someone frantically, not that Simon is watching him non-stop without doing any work. Wille gets up all of a sudden and goes up to the counter where Simon is standing. Shit! Has he realized Simon is a weirdo who has been watching him? He is probably here to tell him to cut it.
"Can I ask you a favor?" he asks instead. Simon is taken aback because he wasn't expecting that at all. He is not caught, at least.
"Umm," he mumbles with a slight blush because Wille is too pretty. "Sure."
"I have a crush on someone, and I want to make a move, but I don't know what to say. Can you help me with that?"
What?
"I don't even know this person. How can I possibly help?"
"I can show you a picture." Wille says with a small smile, but he looks nervous. Whoever this person is, they must be so lucky.
"Sure," Simon says unwillingly. Wille hands him his phone, and Simon takes it, their fingertips brushing a little. He looks at it and gets confused, scrunching his brows after looking at his reflection on the phone.
"I think you accidentally opened up your camera," he laughs awkwardly.
