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Simon struggles to finish buttoning his shirt and tying his shoelaces, as the door slams behind him. In hindsight, he thinks that there’s probably some sort of etiquette to these things that he has disregarded, but to be totally fair, he’s not actually done this before, and he didn’t exactly have time to Google it on the way here.
He checks his pockets to make sure he’s got his phone and his keys, then zips up his jacket. It’s October and the weather is already pretty cold, so for that complete dick to chuck them out of his apartment without even waiting for them to finish dressing is just- Fuck, he’s so pissed that he barely has the words.
‘What just happened?’ he asks his companion, a tall skinny guy with the sweetest, freckliest face and floppy brown hair. He told Simon his name when they met earlier this evening, but the bar was noisy and he didn’t quite catch it. He thinks it was William, possibly Wille, but he couldn’t swear to it. He may be a bit unsure on that detail, but he could describe at great length the way he reacted when Simon kissed him, the curve of his arse, the silkiness of his armpit hair, the exact dimensions of his cock - God, his cock - and the enthusiasm, not to mention skill, with which he gave head. He’s never met anyone that loved it as much as Wille appeared to. The other guy? Elias? The guy whose apartment they’ve just been kicked out of? Couldn’t tell you a thing, other than that he was kind of an arsehole.
‘Fucking rude, right?’ says Wille.
‘I just- What the actual fuck?’ Simon says indignantly.
‘I mean, to be fair, we were kind of ignoring him a bit.’
‘I suppose,’ admits Simon grudgingly.
‘But not even a shower? I’m so crusty, I can’t even-’
‘Right?’ laughs Simon.
‘Are you going to the tunnelbana?’ Wille asks. ‘Wanna walk together?’
This should feel awkward. Every other time he’s hooked up with a complete stranger, he has, quite frankly, never wanted to see them again. But this? This is actually OK. This just feels like making your way home with a mate. A mate you’ve just fucked, a mate to whom you may or may not feel a large degree of attraction, but a mate nonetheless. It’s nice. Wille seems like a good guy, but this is definitely not what Simon expected when he went out this evening.
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Simon is dressed in his pulling outfit, which is pretty much the same as his normal clothes, except everything’s a lot tighter. He doesn’t really do fashion, but he knows he looks good. Most of the guys in this bar seem to know it too. He’s already turned down a couple of offers. Men who were nice enough, but he didn’t really vibe with. He’s been here a couple of hours now, and he’s standing sipping a cocktail, some sort of fruity concoction with a cherry and an umbrella, and talking to a couple of guys, both of whom are definitely more on his wavelength.
They’re talking about nothing in particular, but that doesn’t matter. It’s what they’re not saying that matters more. It’s all the surreptitious - and not so surreptitious - glances, the subtle movements, the way the shorter one is licking his lips, the taller one mirroring Simon’s body language. Whatever it is that’s going on, the air is thick with it.
‘I live in Liljeholmen,’ says Elias, the shorter, older one; Simon would put him at about thirty. He’s looking at Simon as he says it. To be honest, Liljeholmen is in the opposite direction to where Simon lives, and if he were going to pick between the two, it’s the other guy - Wille, or William, he thinks - that he would definitely prefer. He’s just about to turn the offer down when Elias adds, ‘So, you know, it’s not far. If you’d both like to come back.’
Oh. So that’s what he has in mind. Well. That puts a new light on things. Simon has not done anything like this before, and the idea is making adrenaline course through his bloodstream, every part of his body coming alive at the prospect. It’s something new and exciting, a dynamic he’s never experienced before. He’s also delighted that he won’t have to say goodnight to Wille right away. That he’ll get to spend some more time with him. Oh, who is he trying to kid? He's been thinking about fucking him ever since he said hello, and now it looks like he might have the opportunity.
‘That sounds like fun,’ says Wille, staring directly at Simon as he speaks, and Simon’s mind is made up for sure.
Elias’s apartment is only three tunnelbana stops away. It’s late on a Tuesday evening; the train is virtually empty. Empty enough, anyway, that they can get away with more than maybe they would think of doing if it were busier. Elias pulls Simon closer to him and leans in for a kiss. Simon is not complaining; the man is a good kisser, albeit a little on the stubbly side. They’re mid-kiss when Simon feels a hand on his back, the ghost of Wille’s lips against the back of his neck. Simon turns towards him and tilts his head a little so that he can kiss him properly, and is it rude to compare? It’s kind of difficult not to, if he’s honest. Kissing two guys at the same time… well, anyone would. Right? Because while Elias is great, kissing Wille is on a whole other level entirely. Maybe three or four. He just does it so right, with such care, really puts his heart and soul into it. And he tastes good. And he smells amazing, and how is that possible when they’ve spent the last two hours in a sweaty bar? And his body, underneath Simon’s wandering hands, has just the right amount of muscle for Simon’s taste. And. And. And.
When Wille pulls away from him and starts to kiss Elias, it feels almost like a personal insult. But then when the train stops and they all bundle out into Liljeholmen station, it’s Simon’s hand that Wille’s holding, not Elias’s. Maybe Wille was just making some comparisons of his own.
It’s only a two-minute walk to Elias’s flat. A kaleidoscope of butterflies is threatening to escape from Simon’s stomach; he feels giddy with it. It must be anticipation; he wouldn’t say that a threesome is something he’s ever obsessed about trying out in real life, but he’s watched his fair share of them on his phone when he’s been having a wank - who hasn’t? - so he can’t say that he’s never even considered it.
His excitement is tempered with a little apprehension, the same slight nervousness he always feels before hooking up with a stranger, only multiplied by two. But it’s a good kind of nerves, the kind you need when you’re about to embark upon an adventure, and that’s exactly how he sees this: an adventure that he’s about to undertake with these two charming young men.
He likes Elias because he’s not backwards about coming forwards; he knew what he wanted back there in the bar, and he just came straight out and asked for it. That takes a certain amount of chutzpah. And Wille, he seems very earnest, in quite the best way, and fuck, he’s pretty. There’s just something about him that is drawing Simon in a way he can’t explain. This is going to be fun, which is exactly what Simon set out for this evening.
He and Wille wait in the hallway while Elias is unlocking his front door; Wille is gently cupping Simon’s left arse cheek as they wait, and it's turning his insides liquid with further anticipation. He presses back against Wille’s hand so that he will know that he likes it.
They go into the hallway and are all taking off their shoes when Wille says, ‘I just want to do hand and mouth stuff, if that’s OK.’ Simon likes him even more for that, that he has the self-confidence to just come right out and say what he’s comfortable with; it’s something that Simon himself is still working on. Not to mention that hand and mouth stuff with these two sounds like a really fun night; he’s hardly going to turn round and tell the guy to fuck off.
‘Sure,’ says Elias.
‘Yeah, I’m good with that,’ Simon chimes in, and everybody is being so fucking polite it’s almost comical.
‘The bedroom’s through here,’ says Elias, leading the way through a minuscule lounge kitchen diner to a room that’s just about big enough for a bed and a wardrobe. Simon is not here to check out the architecture though. He’d far rather check out Elias and Wille.
When Elias closes the bedroom door, the click of the latch is like a starting pistol; as soon as he turns back towards Wille and Simon, everybody falls on each other and it’s a frantic mêlée of hands and mouths and heavy breathing as they try to undress each other.
Simon loves this part of being with someone new, the anticipation, the knowing that he's about to find out for sure what, up until now, has only been supposition. The wondering about what his partner might look like naked, imagining how hairy he might be, what he might smell like, if he's really as muscular as his clothes might suggest. And, of course, his cock. How long? How thick? Does it curve? Is he a shower or a grower? All of these questions, tonight posed double fold, are about to be answered. The prospect is mouthwatering.
He feels Wille's cock before he sees it. Elias and Wille are making out, which has left Simon free, so he moves behind Wille and starts to caress his body, admiring the way he feels under his fingers. His torso is smooth, hairless, but that just means that Simon is better able to feel the musculature, to admire the way Wille is moving beneath his hands. As he does so, he places kisses on Wille’s shoulders, paying homage, and presses himself against his back. The friction, or lack of it, is maddening, but Wille pushes back against him and it’s a momentary relief. Simon’s hands move lower, to Wille’s belly, soft and pliant beneath his fingers, and lower still, palming him over his boxers, feeling his hardness, starting to get some idea of exactly what Wille is packing under there. He’s not disappointed.
Wille momentarily stops what he's doing so that he can pull his boxers down, a shorthand way of giving Simon permission to touch him properly. They’re wedged under his arse and that is a view in itself, but Simon moves round so that he can get a proper look at what Wille has just revealed. He’s gorgeous. Simon absolutely cannot wait to get his mouth on him; he’s practically salivating at the prospect.
Simon’s gripping Wille, his other hand stroking his balls, and he’s just about to drop to his knees when Elias says, ‘Hang on,’ and pulls away from Wille, unzipping his jeans and stripping off the rest of his clothing so that he’s totally naked, and he looks good, although he clearly knows it. Simon can understand where the swagger that Elias has been demonstrating all evening comes from, even if swagger is not really his thing.
Simon and Wille exchange glances, both of them wide eyed, grin at each other, and without even discussing it, they drop to the floor. Wille takes Elias in his mouth first, and the way he’s stretching his lips round him looks so hot it’s making Simon’s breath catch in his throat. Through some sort of telepathy, he and Wille have worked out that they’re tag-teaming this thing, taking turns to blow Elias. It’s a good thing, too, because Simon is able to go for much longer than usual without it making his jaw ache.
Wille has his mouth around Elias, his tongue working overtime, but it’s like he’s paying no attention to Elias at all. He’s staring at Simon, his focus concentrated entirely on him. Simon’s probably imagining it, but he feels that telepathy again. Wille is talking to him without words, saying, I want to do this to you; look how good I am at it. Simon is enchanted, diving in to join him so that their tongues are brushing against each other as well as the head of Elias’s cock. It’s awkward, like they’re kissing with a cock in the way, but it’s stupid hot.
Elias pulls away, muttering something about not wanting to come too soon, and Simon and Wille carry on kissing, both still on their knees. Simon feels like Wille’s hands are touching every centimetre of his skin; he’s electric with it. He does his best to reciprocate, his fingers ghosting across belly, pubic hair, eventually cock. Elias’s cock is nice and all, but Wille's, to him, is perfection. Ugh, he's comparing again. He can't help it. The more he sees of Wille, learns about him, the more he's taken with him, and the more Elias is starting to pale. There’s nothing wrong with the guy at all - probably - but it’s just that… Wille. Yeah.
Somehow, Wille manoeuvres the two of them onto the bed, and he’s looming over Simon in a way that’s taking Simon’s breath away, leaning down to kiss his neck and his shoulders and his chest. It’s just kissing; Simon shouldn’t be this turned on, but he is. His cock is pressing unconsciously upwards, seeking attention; Wille places a hand on one of his hips to still him as he moves down his body, and there’s something assertive about the way that he does it that is making Simon absolutely weak.
As Wille finally reaches his destination and takes Simon in his mouth, the soft slide and gentle suction of his tongue is causing him to melt into the floor. Simon is vaguely aware of the bed dipping beside him, of Elias’s hands stroking his chest, his fingers playing with Simon’s nipples. He has four hands caressing him all over, and suddenly he can totally see the point of this threesome thing. Earlier on, when the other two were making out, he felt a bit like a third wheel, not entirely sure if he was missing something, but now he gets it.
He can’t last much longer; his entire body is overwhelmed by sensation. He tugs Wille’s hair, warns him that he’s about to come. Wille pulls off, using both hands on him for only seconds before white hot pleasure floods Simon’s body as he shoots into Wille’s fist. As he comes down from his high, his ecstatic groans are replaced by shocked laughter, because that might just have been the best blowjob he’s ever had. He can still feel it in his hands and feet; his entire body is syrup. He would never have imagined that Wille would be so skilled; and it is definitely the Wille part of it that was so good and not the threesome part, of that he’s almost sure. The additional hands on him certainly added an extra something to the experience, but nothing that would explain… that. Jesus.
Wille wipes his hand on the sheets and then scoots up the bed so that he can kiss Simon some more. What is really talking to Simon is just how enthusiastic he is; it’s infectious. Simon tries to kiss him back with equal fervour, almost as though he’s using it as a way to communicate to Wille just how much he appreciates it.
Even though he’s done, he’s not done. There’s the small matter - well, not that small, actually - of Wille’s pleasure. Just when he was about to go down on Wille earlier, he got distracted by Elias’s dick - to be fair, they both did - and he’s determined that that won’t happen again. He rolls Wille over so that he’s lying on the bed and moves so that he’s level with his cock. This is the other part that he loves: that moment of anticipation right before you get to taste, to smell, to feel. He buries his nose in Wille’s pubic hair and inhales deeply. Fuck, he smells good. The weight of Wille in his hand is perfection; he pulls the foreskin back and licks across the head, and the sound that Wille makes reverberates deep in Simon’s core.
He wants to make this good; somehow that’s become important to him. He’s never usually like this when hooking up with a stranger. It’s not like he doesn’t care if the other guy gets off - of course he does, he’s a gentleman - but this is different. He doesn’t even know why, but he’s pulling out all his best tricks: an extra flick of the tongue here, a gentle whisper of a shiver touch across the balls there, all designed to drive Wille wild. And it seems to be working.
Wille’s breath is speeding up, the amount of moaning increasing, his fingers tightening on Simon’s shoulders. Simon pulls off just enough so that it won’t go in his mouth and jerks him through his climax, milky spurts landing on Simon’s fingers, cheek and chin. He feels triumphant.
He’s too in the moment to notice much else, so it’s a bit of a shock when he feels wet warmth on his right side. Elias has finished on him. Oh. OK. Did he not want to wait? Because Simon’s sure that both he and Wille would have been happy to oblige, to continue what they were doing earlier, but it seems that Elias has sorted himself out. And he’s not looking that happy about it.
Elias jumps off the bed, throwing a roll of toilet paper and their clothes towards Wille and Simon. ‘I think you should both leave now,’ he says. What? The guy’s kicking them out without even offering them a shower and a drink? That’s just fucking rude. Simon does his best to wipe himself up and put on as many of his clothes as possible, but Elias is intent on herding the both of them out as soon as he can. Simon is getting more and more pissed. What a weird ending to this thing.
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‘What stop are you going to?’ asks Wille. They’re waiting for the train back into the city; the platform is deserted. The tension between them that was dissipated by their mutual orgasms has started to build again. The walk to the station has been punctuated with laughter, chat, a few fingertip brushes, but most of all, a feeling of utter comfort in the company of this man. Simon doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, but the churning in his stomach is telling him that it’s not nothing.
‘Solna Centrum,’ he replies.
‘Oh wow, same. Are you a student too?’
‘Yeah. First year music. You?’
‘First year literature. I can’t believe we haven’t met before now.’
‘I know, right? Listen, I really had fun tonight,’ says Simon. The butterflies are doing their thing again, because he’s trying to put into words how he’s feeling, and he’s terrified that it’s all a totally one-sided thing that his brain has confected. Because Wille clearly set out tonight to hook up, not for anything else, and here Simon is, about to put his cards on the table and admit that he doesn’t want this just to be a one-off. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that he’s caught feelings, which would be slightly ridiculous since they’ve known each other for all of four hours, but there’s definitely something there, a tiny piece of grit around which maybe a pearl could grow. Maybe. ‘And I was wondering if, uh, maybe I could have your number?’
‘So that we can study together? Or for something else?’ asks Wille, a faint note of teasing in his voice.
‘Something else.’ Simon is not beyond a bit of teasing himself.
‘Such as?’
‘I’d like to see you again,’ states Simon.
‘You’ve seen quite a lot of me tonight. All of me, in fact.’
Ugh, Wille is not making this easy for him, but this is the sort of flirtatious bantering that Simon lives for. He loves finding someone whom he can spar with like this. ‘Not like that. Well, yes like that, but not just that.’
‘OK,’ says Wille, and sometimes it really is just as simple as that. He takes hold of the phone that Simon’s holding out to him and carefully types in his name: Wilhelm 💜 Wait, what? Simon starts laughing.
‘What?’ Wille chuckles nervously.
‘I thought your name was William,’ Simon admits, not quite looking him in the eye. ‘It was kind of noisy back in that bar.’
‘Actually, most people call me Wille.’
Simon smiles at that; he pretty much had it right after all. ‘OK,’ he says. ‘Wille.’ The train pulls up in front of them and the doors slide open. ‘After you,’ Simon continues, gesturing in front of him. They both step on together.
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Simon has folded his arms in front of him on the table and is using them to cradle his burning face so that nobody can look at him. He can’t decide whether to laugh or cry, although eventually a kind of shocked giggling overtakes him. He looks across at Wille, who’s also gone puce in embarrassment, but is laughing in spite of himself.
His abuela is here, for fuck’s sake. Thank God she doesn’t speak Swedish; his mamá is sitting next to her and translating what’s being said, and he can trust her to be diplomatic in what she translates and what she conveniently forgets to mention. But that still means… yeah, his mamá is listening to this, even if she is doing so with a smirk on her face. The only thing that’s making him feel even a little better is that Wille’s mamma is also listening, and she has a face like thunder. He’s still going to kill Erik though. And probably Wille, for thinking in the first place that his brother would make a suitable best man.
‘...threw them out because they were paying more attention to each other than to him,’ continues Erik, who’s looking very pleased with himself. He takes another sip of his champagne. ‘But I guess it must have been a bonding moment, because the rest is history, and here we all are today. So I ask you to be upstanding and raise your glasses in a toast to the grooms!’
There’s a loud scraping of chairs as everyone gets to their feet. Simon and Wille’s eyes meet; they smile, embarrassment forgotten - for now - and lean across to kiss each other. The people gathered around them - friends, family, colleagues - all speak in unison. ‘The grooms!’