Chapter Text
Being the Prince of Sweden did come with some perks, despite what previous research might have some believe. First of all, life could always be worse. Wilhelm could be the Crown Prince.
When he was back in his final year of high school, Erik had gotten into a serious car accident that rocked the royal family and, by extension, all of Sweden. The line of succession was suddenly unstable and uncertain, the future of the monarchy was heavily discussed in both media and amongst Swedes with anti-monarchists calling for its abolition, and the press was hounding his family like they were some sort of prey.
Worst of all, Wilhelm was faced with the very real possibility of losing his brother, who was kept in a medically induced coma for weeks. To this day, Wilhelm would maintain that the only thing that got him through it was his best friend, Simon Eriksson.
At that point, they had been friends for almost three years, best friends for two. While their first year had been rocked by Wilhelm’s cousin making a failed grab at the throne by betraying both Wilhelm and his brother by fabricating a scandal that would discredit their loyalty to their country, Simon had been one of many caught in the crossfire and getting him to forgive him had taken months. It wasn’t until their mother got tired of Wilhelm’s whining and took matters into her own hands that Simon was willing to hear him out.
These days, Wilhelm could admit that having his mother's black Mercedes drive up to the gates of Hillerska one Tuesday morning, demanding to speak to Simon and walking in on where all the boys had assembled for lunch was rather comical.
Back then, he’d been scared shitless, if he’s being honest. Simon hadn’t looked any better, staring at her in outright shock for a few seconds before hastily getting out of his chair and following her down a corridor. She hadn’t even spared Wilhelm, her own son, a second glance.
To this day he still had no idea what they talked about, but Simon had sat down next to him during their social science class after, having seemingly forgiven him for the hurt Wilhelm had inadvertently caused him, and Wilhelm had been right there with open arms. They hadn’t talked about it since.
When Erik got into his accident, Simon came with him every day to visit him in the hospital, and demanded that Wilhelm texted him if something happened while he was gone. During the rockiest period of his life, Simon was the one constant he had.
Erik had woken up in what the doctors had called a miraculous recovery, and today the only lasting damage was a slight limp in his left leg. Certainly not something that discredited him from the role he was born to play, and certainly not something the Swedish people couldn’t still love him for. When Erik finally came out of the hospital, a week after having opened his eyes, their people lined up to cheer for him.
After the dust had settled, it also really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone when Wilhelm, rather despairingly, proclaimed he was in love with a boy at a family dinner right before graduation.
It’s been years since then, and while Wilhelm had gone off to university to get one of many shiny degrees, performing his duties as a prince, Simon had gotten accepted into the Royal College of Music, and they’d been separated by distance.
And while Simon regularly texted him to ask questions like “where’s the best lunch spot near Odenplan?” or “please don’t tell me you used to actually hang out with the Östermalm-crowd”, nothing could beat the weekends he was able to drive back to Stockholm to meet up with him and answer all those questions in person.
There wasn’t a day when Wilhelm didn’t ache to go back to Stockholm, back to Simon, home.
So, unsurprisingly, when Simon texted to tell him he needed to get one of his wisdom’s teeth out and he needed someone to drive him home afterwards because he would get drugged out of his mind and none of his university friends had bothered to learn how to drive because they lived in the capital, Wilhelm jumped at the chance to skip class and go back to Stockholm for the day.
Who knows, maybe he could convince Simon to let him stay with him without his family knowing, staying in Simon’s flat for a few days and just basking in Simon’s company. Maybe they’d be able to spend hours lazing on Simon’s sofa, watching movies on Netflix or catching up on the latest season of Sex Education, or even The Crown if Wilhelm felt like indulging Simon at his own expense and ridicule, as he so often did. Maybe he’d be able to get a few days where he could live in the in-between, with his studies on hold in Uppsala and without his royal duties taking up all his time in Stockholm.
Since they graduated from Hillerska and went off to separate cities, he and Simon so rarely got those moments anymore, and Wilhelm longed to have them back.
Because yeah, Wilhelm was man enough to admit that even though being unrequitedly in love with Simon and spending every day in his company used to hurt like a constant ache in the centre of his chest that always reminded him of what he could crave desperately but never actually have, he missed that ache more and more with every week they now spent apart.
He didn’t know what that said about him, but he knew when Simon finally met someone who took his breath away and introduced him to Wilhelm with so much love and adoration, a pleading look in his eyes begging for Wilhelm to be nice to this future boyfriend, that ache in his chest would consume him, swallow him whole, and he wasn’t sure how he’d come back for that. Simon had been the centre of his universe for years now, and he didn’t know what would happen when that centre didn’t hold.
Anyway. Loving someone who doesn’t love you back feels like shit, sure, but Wilhelm would be damned if he didn’t bask in any attention Simon wanted to give him, for however long that would be.
He’s been sitting in Simon’s dentist’s waiting room for almost an hour with Malin sitting across from him on another sofa by the time the podcast he’s been listening to comes to an end. When he called his brother to give him a heads up that he’d be in the capital for the weekend but to please for the love of, I don’t know, your future wife, do NOT tell mom I’ll be in Stockholm, please please please Erik, his brother had only teased him for a few seconds before agreeing, only insisting that Wilhelm accepts Malin’s protection while he’s there just in case.
“Erik, you do know I can drive, right? Like I’m driving myself down, I live on my own up here. It’s important to me that you know that I’m not a kid anymore.” Wilhelm had laughed at his insistence, but any trace of humour was gone when Erik had responded with “Wilhelm, you’ll always be my little brother, and you’re the most important person in my life. I’d rather you not get into a car accident because you’re too distracted by a drugged-up Simon in your passenger seat”.
Maybe Wilhelm shouldn’t have brought up driving.
So there Malin was, flipping through one of those boring, clearly there-for-decoration newspapers while pretending not to watch and catalogue the nurses’ every move. Wilhelm had never liked those magazines, ever since the scandal that nearly broke him and Simon at Hillerska when Simon’s face had been splashed on every front page in the country. Luckily, he didn’t have to pick out a new podcast to start, seeing one of the nurses approach him coming out from the door that led to where Simon was.
“Prince Wilhelm,” she pauses before continuing, seeming to debate whether she should try to curtsy to him or not but thankfully opting not to. “Your friend is all done, you can come back and get him if you want.” She finishes before waiting for him to stand up. Wilhelm does so, pocketing his phone in the pocket of his coat and turning around to hold up his hands to Malin, silently telling her to wait out here and not follow him inside. She seems to want to disagree but allows him to leave the waiting room with the nurse anyway.
They walk through the different patient rooms along multiple corridors, with her leading him through it while also guiding him through Simon’s care instructions for the next 24 hours. “You might already know this, Your Highness, but it is important that Simon does not drink or smoke anything while the anaesthetics are still in his system. He should also avoid any hot foods or liquids, such as soup, coffee or tea as they may disrupt the healing process. Make sure he chews on the other side of his mouth when he starts eating solid foods, but even then make sure they’re soft so he doesn’t have to bite down too harshly.”
Simon hates hot drinks with a vengeance, can be seen with a Frappuccino in the dead of Swedish winter before he even considers a cup of bitter coffee, but the soup part might cause an uproar when they get back to Simon’s flat and the Tupperware containers filled with potato and leek soup that Linda has undoubtedly prepared for her son will have to remain cold in the fridge. Wilhelm will have to try to mentally prepare himself for having to say no to Simon.
The nurse stops in front of a closed door, only turning to him to briefly add that “Simon can take some Ibuprofen for the pain if he needs to, but only the recommended dose and only if the pain gets unbearable”, before knocking softly and leaving Wilhelm alone on the other side of it. When the door opens, the woman who Wilhelm presumes is Simon’s dental surgeon looks at him with a smile.
“Prince Wilhelm, I should warn you, your friend is a bit out of it. We had a bit of trouble when removing his molar, so the pain relief we administered will have him disoriented and a bit out of it for a few hours from now. It’s nothing to worry about, of course, but he might behave a bit unseemly or say some odd things.” The dental surgeon steps away then, and in doing so reveals Simon in the chair, hands twirling his curls around his fingers while staring up at them in bewilderment.
Wilhelm’s chest aches.
“Simon,” the dental surgeon calls his attention, to which he slowly turns his head towards them and smiles. “Simon, your friend is here to take you home now, don’t you want to go home?” She says.
Simon nodded slowly at her before turning his head slightly and looking at Wilhelm, letting a smile erupt all over his face. Simon’s eyes bore into his own, and Wilhelm takes a step forward instinctively, reaching out for one of the hands Simon had just had in his curls. There has to be some sort of transient energy lingering on Simon’s fingertips because they light up Wilhelm’s skin as they brush against the palm of his hand.
Focus, Wilhelm.
“My dooths hurts” Simon groans while dragging his other hand towards his mouth quickly, forcing Wilhelm to slap his wrist away. When Simon looks at him with sharp betrayal, Wilhelm has to force down a laugh.
“Hey, Simon, no touching your mouth right now, remember? You’ve just had surgery,” Wilhelm patiently reminds him.
“But, my dooths,” Simon says, “they hurt''.
“I know your teeth are hurting right now, but it’ll be all better soon, I promise”, he says then, and Simon seems to take that promise at face value because he goes lax against Wilhelm’s hand and nods.
From the desk at the corner of the room, the dental surgeon finishes filling out Simon’s chart and calls Wilhelm’s attention back to her. “I trust that you’ve been told Simon’s aftercare instructions, but feel free to contact us if you have any concerns for the next 48 hours”, she informs him, before smiling and adding “but I’m sure the Prince has other people he can contact if he should need to”.
He nods minutely, trying to imbue every bit of his royal upbringing in his response when he moves to shake her hand and thank her for taking care of Simon today before turning back to his best friend to help him up and out of the chair.
“Are you ready to get home Simon?” He asks him when he’s gotten Simon’s arms through the arms of his coat and his hat over most of his hair.
Simon only hums against his shoulder, and Wilhelm is forced to carry Simon’s weight as they walk back through the corridor that leads to the waiting room. Once they make it back, Malin shoots them a smile at the sight Wilhelm is sure they make, but he can’t summon the energy to complain about it when he has Simon’s head against his shoulder and his hands around his torso.
Malin helps him get Simon in the backseat of Wilhelm’s car, buckling him in with the seatbelt before closing the door softly to not injure Simon. The cold winter air seemed to have woken him up slightly because he was significantly more awake after the short walk to the car outside of the building. When Wilhelm moves towards the driver’s seat, Malin gives him a stern look before nodding her head towards the other side of the car, silently telling him to get in the backseat with Simon instead.
He sighs in reluctance but remembers that this was Erik’s one condition, and he’s not willing to refuse him this one wish. Still, he feels a bit ridiculous getting in the backseat of his own damn car.
“You know,” Malin says as Wilhelm is rounding the hood of the Audi. “If you’re trying to convince everyone you’re not in love with him, you really need to stop looking at him like you’d give up the monarchy for him”.
He flushes instantly, staring at her and how her eyes filled with laughter as she’s making fun of him. She even tilts her head toward the direction of where Simon is sitting, as if Wilhelm didn’t already know who she was talking about, but Wilhelm can’t take any more of this. Once he reaches the car door he’s been heading towards, he promptly opens it and gets in, not giving Malin the satisfaction of a response.
He assumes she’s satisfied anyway.
When he gets inside the car Simon instantly turns to look at him again, reaching for his hand. He takes Wilhelm’s glove off and before Wilhelm can ask why Simon busies himself with tracing patterns into the back of his hand.
Wilhelm buckles himself in one-handed, and his chest aches.
When Malin finally starts the car, he can see her glancing at their intertwined hands in the rearview mirror, but she doesn’t say anything out loud. She only raises one of her eyebrows and shoots a look at Wilhelm, but maybe that action is louder than anything she could have ever said.
The car ride back to Simon’s flat takes a while, and by the time they’ve hit the highway Wilhelm’s pulled out his phone and is scrolling through Instagram with one hand while the other is still held hostage by Simon’s own hands. He can feel Simon’s eyes on his phone, watching Wilhelm scroll through his feed with his head slightly uncomfortably on Wilhelm’s right shoulder, when a picture of him and Erik comes up. It’s from some newspaper account, and the caption is highlighting the work he and Erik have been doing advocating for one of Sweden’s largest mental health organisations. It’s a good picture of them and when he first saw it, Simon had said he looked very regal.
That’s not what he says now.
When he opens his mouth now, what comes out of Simon’s mouth is “I used to be in love with him.”
And the world just stops.
Wilhelm’s pretty sure his brain chemistry changes at that moment. His atoms all change, all at once, because the person left in the wake of Simon’s words cannot be the same person who got into this car with him.
Simon, his Simon, his best friend in the entire world and the one person who has become the centre of Wilhelm’s universe, used to be in love with his brother?
Wilhelm suddenly feels like throwing himself out of this car and surrendering himself to the mercy of the highway. He can even feel the car brake slightly, no doubt a consequence of Malin’s own shock making itself known in her driving.
Realising he’s left it too long, he steels himself for what he’s about to ask and focuses his eyes on the screen in front of him instead.
Staring down at the picture of him and his brother, he asks “you used to be in love with the Crown Prince?”
To both his shock and relief, Simon seems to recoil slightly from the question as well. The air against Wilhelm’s right shoulder turns cold as Simon lifts his head slightly to shake his head, and Wilhelm drags his eyes from where they’ve been glued to his phone screen to meet Simon’s eyes. In them, he finds only confusion.
“What? No! The Crown Prince is old, I meant the younger one,” he exclaims, moving one of his hands to point to Wilhelm in the picture who’s standing right next to his brother. As if Wilhelm doesn’t know who that is. “Him, see? The one with the long hair. I used to be in love with him when I was younger, Sara teased me about it all the time.” Simon continues.
Whatever Wilhelm just thought about brain chemistry and atoms reshaping? Yeah, that. Again.
For clarification, he asks “Prince Wilhelm? Simon, did you just say you used to be in love with Prince Wilhelm?”
Wilhelm is not actually sure if he wants to know the answer to the question, but he can’t stop himself from asking. Simon doesn’t hesitate to answer.
“Oh yeah, I wanted to marry him and everything. I had one of his posters on my bedroom wall for like a year when I was 15, right before I started high school. I took it down before I started Hillerska, but I’m sure it’s still in some box somewhere. His hair is so shiny, have you ever noticed?” He asks as if he’s not just upended Wilhelm’s entire existence.
He knows he shouldn’t let this continue, Simon’s drugged out of his mind and doesn’t know what he’s saying and none of it might even be true, so he responds with “Simon, you know that I’m Prince Wilhelm, right?”
Simon’s eyes meet him again after having strayed during their conversation, but there’s only happiness in them when they meet Wilhelm again. A fragile happiness, Wilhelm will later recall, as Simon’s next words completely pull the rug away from underneath them.
“No silly, you’re Wille. Prince Wilhelm is probably in one of his many castles right now, being very princely” , he laughs before continuing. “It’s good that he has so many castles, he deserves to be happy”.
Wilhelm’s chest aches.
He has no idea what to make out of any of this. Glancing over at Malin in the driver’s seat, he can see that she is very determinedly ignoring their conversation in favour of staring at the road ahead of them with intent. She’s no help to him in this.
And then, because he’s an idiot, he asks the question he knows he has no right to ask.
“Are you,” he takes a breath. “Are you still in love with Prince Wilhelm?”
While Simon takes a minute to consider the question, Wilhelm can only hear static. The wait is excruciating, and he regrets asking the second the question is out, but it’s too late now.
After a minute, Simon shrugs and says “No, I’m in love with someone else now. Prince Wilhelm was just an idea, I didn’t even know him, I don’t think that’s real love. Besides, the one I’m in love with now is real, and I just want to make him happy all the time. I want to marry him now, and give him presents all the time and watch stupid shows on Netflix with him all day long.” Simon muses, and the smile on his face is the softest one Wilhelm’s ever seen on him. Under different circumstances, he’s sure he would love it.
When Simon’s eyes meet his again, he doesn’t seem like he recognises Wilhelm at all, either as Prince Wilhelm or Wille. Before Wilhelm has time to dwell on that, Simon decides to let out one final sentence to nail the coffin of Wilhelm’s fragile psyche shut.
“His mom even said we had her blessing, I just have to ask him one day! How amazing is that?” Simon exclaims.
How amazing, indeed.
At the end of Simon’s answer, the responding pain in Wilhelm is instantaneous. Every single nerve in his system is on high alert, and if he weren’t already sitting down, he’s pretty sure his legs would give out. He knows he shouldn’t have asked the question, but jesus christ he did not expect that answer.
Simon’s in love with someone. Someone he hasn’t even told Wilhelm about. Someone he’s apparently serious enough about if he’s already asked this person’s mom for her goddamn blessing. Simon wants to marry someone else, and apparently, Wilhelm is not important enough in Simon’s life to have even been informed.
Does Simon still feel like he doesn’t know Wilhelm, is that why? Has their friendship always been built upon the such unstable ground? Was Simon just friends with him because he felt like he had to, out of some misguided sense of responsibility?
Realisation struck Wilhelm like a shot to the heart.
Is that what his mother had talked to Simon about, all those years ago when she came to visit him unprompted at Hillerska after the scandal? Had she seen how distraught her son had been, and forced Simon to become his friend again? Afterwards, he and Simon had never talked about it, but Simon had only forgiven him after talking to his mother. While Simon had been clear about his disregard for the monarchy before then, it’s not easy to resist when the Queen makes her demands personally. And Simon had never told Wilhelm about what they talked about.
Has Simon ever really forgiven him?
His mind is spinning out of control, the questions flashing before his closed eyes too fast for him to linger on any specific one. For his part, Simon seems to have become distracted by something, because he doesn’t speak for the remainder of the car ride. Wilhelm doesn’t register anything else until he can feel the car come to a stop before Malin shuts the engine off, opening his eyes to Simon’s block on Hornsgatan.
A quick glance in the rearview mirror tells Wilhelm Malin is already looking at him with concern, but he shakes his head at her before quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. Walking behind the car over to Simon’s side, he opens his car door as well and waits for Simon to unbuckle himself before holding his hand out for Simon to take, grasping his hand when he does so. The touch, which so recently made him light up inside, now makes him feel dirty instead.
He tells Malin to wait in the car, and for once she simply agrees. He’s grateful for it because he’s not sure he has the energy to try to convince her of anything right now.
Once they’re in the stairwell leading up to Simon’s flat, Simon takes Wilhelm’s arm and loops it with his own to lean some of his weight on him while walking up the stairs. The whole affair causes their walk upstairs to take way longer than it should, but Wilhelm is too numb to refuse.
When they get to Simon’s flat, Wilhelm waits patiently while Simon fumbles for the door. When they get themselves through the door, Wilhelm waits patiently while Simon struggles to get his shoes off and helps him get his coat onto the hanger before guiding Simon into his living room and onto the sofa, turning Netflix on and letting season 2 of Narcos play in the background.
As soon as he sees Simon focusing on the show, he walks into the kitchen and calls Sara.
See, not two hours ago, the idea of spending a whole weekend with Simon seemed like a dream. Two hours ago, Wilhelm was excited at having been given the opportunity to take care of Simon for a few days, nurse him back to health or some shit. The idea had felt so stupidly domestic that Wilhelm had lured himself into a situation that was now suffocating him.
Stupid stupid stupid.
And worst of all, not an ounce of his predicament is Simon’s fault, and yet Wilhelm can’t help but feel unease whenever their eyes meet or some part of their skin touches. It’s not Simon’s fault, Wilhelm only has himself to blame.
He calls Sara and asks her if she can come and take over, saying there’s an emergency at Drottningholm that he needs to get to. Something about some papers needing to be signed by all members of the family and a deadline at midnight. He’s not sure she believes the lie, but she must hear something in his voice because she doesn’t hesitate to agree, saying she’s there in twenty minutes. After they hang, he allows himself a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath and staring up at the ceiling for a few seconds before letting the breath go.
He moves to open the fridge, finding some strawberries that look like they’ll go bad if they’re left any longer. Checking the freezer, he finds about three tubs of vanilla ice cream, which doesn’t surprise him at all. Deciding that if he’s gonna leave Simon early, he should at least make him something to make good on his promise to look after him.
He makes Simon a smoothie with the ingredients he has available and pours it into a glass slowly as to not cause any of it to spill from the mixer. Carrying it back into the living room, Wilhelm has to tap Simon on the knee three times before he’s able to shift Simon’s attention away from Narcos and back to him, showing Simon the glass as he does so.
Simon’s whole face lights up at the offering, making grabby hands for the glass. When he’s taken a sip, he sets the glass down before he turns those hands to Wilhelm, reaching out to him to pull Wilhelm into laying down on his chest.
Despite himself, Wilhelm allows himself to be pulled down in a haze. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows Malin is waiting for him downstairs to come down any second, but for a few minutes, everything besides Simon’s steady heartbeat underneath his ear fades away and Wilhelm allows himself this small moment of comfort.
Their relationship can never be the same after Sara eventually walks in the door and Wilhelm walks out of it.
Because even if for some reason, Simon has forgiven him, he still didn’t trust him enough to tell him about his new boyfriend. He had had so many opportunities, but Wilhelm wasn’t important enough to tell, apparently.
He’s about to say goodbye to this type of intimacy with Simon forever because he will not play a part in forcing this beautiful man into doing things he doesn’t want to do. This type of intimacy has only been given to him out of some false sense of obligation, and he would rather not have it at all than under false pretences. Surely, Simon would rather be doing this with his boyfriend, right?
Maybe he should have asked Sara about it on the phone, but he’s too emotionally fragile at that moment that the thought of hearing anything about the person Simon apparently wants to marry makes him want to throw himself overboard.
He doesn’t register Simon’s fingers stroking up and down his back until he sits up and Simon’s hands fall away to lay awkwardly at his sides, Simon turning to stare at him in confusion.
“Look, Simon,” he starts, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “I need to head home, my mom has some stuff she needs me to sign.” He continues, trying and failing to ignore the concern that flashes in Simon’s eyes. To ease his worries, Wilhelm hurries to clarify.
“But don’t worry, I’ve already called Sara and she’s on her way over, okay? So you won't be alone, and I’ve told her what the nurse told me, so she knows what to do.” then because he can’t help his self-deprecation, he continues with “It’s probably for the best, she’s probably better at taking care of you than I am”. He tries to keep any hurt out of his voice, and he’s fairly certain he succeeds. Besides, Simon’s on heavy-duty drugs, he probably won't remember any of this when they wear off.
As for right now, Simon continues to stare at him in confusion for a few more seconds before frowning,
“But- but I thought you wanted to take care of me?” He asks, voice trembling, and Wilhelm has to force his hands to remain in his lap instead of dragging them up to his head to tear his hair out.
I do!, he thinks, with such furious emotion. All he’s ever wanted to do since he met Simon was take care of him. To hold his hand and kiss his stupid face and make sure he gets everything he’s ever wanted. He wants nothing more than to spend the rest of the weekend right here on this sofa, holding onto each other and running his fingers through Simon’s hair while Simon focuses on whatever show they watch while allowing Wilhelm to only focus on him.
To Wilhelm, that seems like a perfect life.
But all that is tainted now, because it’s not real. Simon even said so himself, Prince Wilhelm was just an idea, he wasn’t real. Did Simon still think that? Wilhelm didn’t know, but he also couldn’t ask out of fear about what the answer would do to him.
He had already asked one too many stupid questions today.
Simon was still staring at him with big brown eyes and Wilhelm forced himself to give him an answer that wasn’t a total lie.
“Something’s come up, and I can’t handle it myself, so I need to go home for a bit to figure it out. But don’t worry, you can call me tomorrow and I can maybe come over then? If you’d want, I mean.” He says, unsure of himself.
But Simon, whether it's the drugs or the incredible goodness in him, allows Wilhelm the reprieve he so desperately needs right now, just nods and smiles at him in agreement. “As long as you’re okay, that’s okay. If your mom needs help you should help her, I wouldn’t want her upset at you on my behalf” Simon says before pausing. Suddenly, his demeanour changes as he seems to contemplate something, but Wilhelm can’t fathom what has him in such deep thought after talking about his mother, of all people.
Still, silence falls between them like the snow, and Wilhelm waits patiently for either Simon to say something or for Sara to ring the doorbell, whatever comes first.
After a minute, Simon’s eyes clear and he stares into Wilhelm’s eyes for a few seconds before he says “Will you ask your mom to call me, when you see her tonight? I kinda need to talk to her.”
It’s the most ridiculous thing Simon has ever said to him. As far as Wilhelm knows, Simon doesn’t exactly keep in contact with his mother, of all people. While Wilhelm knows she has no issues with their friendship, Wilhelm himself has tried so hard to keep Simon away from the monarchy, knowing how Simon feels about it. So why does Simon want to talk to his mother so desperately that he asks Wilhelm to personally ask her to?
He doesn’t get the opportunity to let his thoughts spiral this time as he’s interrupted by Simon’s doorbell, finally.
He nods his assurance to Simon before getting up off of the sofa to let Simon’s sister into the flat, leaving Simon behind. When he opens the door, her cheeks are flushed from the cold and she still has snowflakes caught in both her hair and along her scarf. It must be snowing pretty heavily outside. Wilhelm hadn’t noticed when they came in.
He nods at her minutely and goes to grab his own coat and lace his boots up. She can probably tell he’s in a hurry, but she’s also too kind to comment on it. It’s only when he straightens up that Sara catches his arm before he has the chance to dart out the door himself.
“Just please, tell me, Wille, did he do anything? I won’t blame him, but I need to be able to answer when he inevitably gets off the drugs and asks. You don’t have to tell me what it was, I just need a yes or no.”
Wilhelm pauses to consider for a second, but the answer is obvious. This mess is all on him. He’s the one who fell in love and refused to put distance between them when it happened. He’s the one who allowed himself to believe that the moments they shared meant more than what they actually did. He’s the one who never questioned why Simon forgave him, he just took it at face value and ignored every red flag that surrounded them. Even today, he’s the one who asked the question and broke his own damned heart. Simon had done nothing but what was asked of him, and he fell in love. Wilhelm’s at no liberty to be angry or fault him for any of it.
“No, Sara, he’s good, he’s perfect. This one’s all me, I promise”. He tries to sound confident as he says it, but she still has concern in her eyes even as she nods. She lets go of his arm, and he’s out the door as quickly as he can.
He’s almost got the door closed behind him when he hears Simon’s voice call out for him from inside the flat, and even now, Wilhelm is powerless to ignore Simon when he’s looking to give Wilhelm attention. He doesn’t move toward Simon, but he also doesn’t move away when Simon comes toward him and wraps his arms around Wilhelm’s middle.
As to not raise any further suspicion, Wilhelm puts his arms around Simon’s back and lets his chin rest against Simon’s forehead. He closes his eyes when he feels Simon shift to burrow his face in Wilhelm’s neck, and tries to breathe deep when Simon opts to just stay there. Eventually, it gets too much, and Wilhelm moves his head to force Simon to move, putting a few inches of space between their faces.
“Get home safe, okay? Promise me you’ll drive safe, Wille, please?” Simon asks, and Wilhelm is powerless to do more than nod again.
Simon loosens his grip on him, and Wilhelm feels guilty about the relief that floods his system at the thought of finally being able to get out of there.
He never thought he’d be this desperate to leave Simon behind to go back to the palace, but nothing about today has been normal. Before letting go of him completely, Simon makes his final request.
“And promise me we’ll talk soon? Maybe after I’ve talked with your mom?” he says, and jesus what is with this whole mom thing?
Someone should tell Simon that maybe he should worry a bit less about Wilhelm’s mom and a bit more about his new boyfriend’s mom, with whom he’s apparently got such a good relationship with that he has her blessing in marriage to her son, whoever that man is. Maybe Simon should leave his mom alone.
Still, he doesn’t know how to deny Simon anything. It’s not how he’s genetically coded.
He nods again, always with the nodding when it comes to the Eriksson siblings, always willing to give Simon’s family anything they need. Wilhelm’s pretty sure he’s making the right decision, putting some distance between them. Maybe he can make it out of this with his friendships intact.
After Simon lets him go completely, he shoots a smile at both of them before he closes the door with Simon and Sara on the other side of it, finally alone for the first time since this whole thing started.
He allows himself only a moment to catch his breath and collect himself before he walks back down the stairs he only walked up some thirty minutes ago. When he gets outside, he sees Malin get out of his car to greet him, but he waves her concern away with a simple flick of his wrist. Instead, he walks around the car and gets in the passenger seat.
It’s not protocol, he knows, for him to sit in the front seat, but he can't bring himself to sit down in the same seat where his heart broke less than an hour ago. Call him dramatic, but even being in the same car feels heavy.
He’s going to have to sell his fucking car.
“Well,” he says as Malin starts the car and starts driving. “At least we won't have to worry about me sacrificing the monarchy for him.”
The joke falls flat, neither of them laughs, and Wilhelm can’t stop his hands from shaking in his lap.
His chest feels hollow.
Malin proves she is the kindest person in the whole world when she doesn’t respond, instead remaining silent for the whole drive over to the palace, despite the concerned glances she throws his way. Wilhelm proves his extreme maturity when he pointedly ignores these in favour of staring out the window instead.
When they finally get home, Erik is already there to greet them. Wilhelm realises that Malin must’ve texted him to let him know the plans have changed, but Wilhelm can’t blame her for it either. After all, his brother’s arms are the only place he wants to be in right now. His brother thanks Malin while still holding onto him before leading them both through the palace halls, ignoring everyone trying to get Erik’s attention on the way. Wilhelm doesn’t say a word as Erik shuts his bedroom door behind him, sits down on his sofa, and motions for Wilhelm to sit down next to him.
And then, with Erik next to him and the familiar walls of Drottningholm around him, protecting him, he allows himself to stop holding himself together. He allows himself to break.
He doesn’t leave Erik’s room for the rest of the weekend.