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Wilhelm cherished slow, quiet mornings when he and Simon didn’t need to hurry to be anywhere or do anything. These were the mornings he longed for, wishing he could live them every day of his life.
One of his favourite parts of these mornings was watching Simon get dressed, especially when pulling on Wilhelm’s clothes. He couldn’t deny that Simon looked great in them, and letting him wear his hoodies felt like a comforting closeness between them.
From his spot on the bed, Wilhelm would observe, phone in hand, scrolling idly but distracted, feeling slightly disappointed whenever he looked up to find Simon already dressed. Although he loved seeing Simon in his clothes, there was something uniquely intimate about watching him change.
After a moment, Wilhelm got up and walked over to where Simon stood, humming softly as he fixed his hair in the mirror. Coming up behind him, Wilhelm wrapped his arms around Simon’s waist and rested his chin on Simon’s shoulder.
“Have I ever told you how good you look in my clothes?” Wilhelm asked, even though he knew Simon’s response.
Simon laughed. “Maybe every day?”
“Well, I mean it every single time,” Wilhelm replied, leaning in to press gentle kisses along Simon’s neck and pulling him closer.
He felt Simon’s muscles tense slightly against his chest, and at first, Wilhelm assumed it was out of enjoyment. But Simon turned around to face him, smiling.
“So, what do you want to do today?” Simon asked.
Wilhelm responded, “Anything, as long as it’s with you.”
Simon smiled and hummed in agreement, leaning up to kiss Wilhelm’s lips softly. “I think we can make that happen.”
Wilhelm let out a soft, affectionate sigh, leaning in to press his forehead gently against Simon’s. Moments like these made him feel overwhelmed with love, even though he often thought he’d reached the peak of what he could feel for Simon. Yet, Simon always found a way to prove him wrong, deepening Wilhelm’s feelings even more. And Wilhelm welcomed it wholeheartedly.
Wilhelm didn’t particularly enjoy the hectic mornings when both he and Simon were rushing to get ready. The chaos felt stressful, but the fact that they were both in it together made it a little easier to handle.
“Where’s my shirt?” Simon asked, sounding slightly panicked.
“Where you left it,” Wilhelm replied calmly.
Simon groaned in frustration, grabbing a stray sock and throwing it at Wilhelm from across the room.
“Not funny—well, maybe a little funny,” he muttered, scouring the room as he searched frantically for his work shirt.
Wilhelm let out a quiet laugh, trying to keep his cool since he was also running late, but he knew Simon could get a bit tense on rushed mornings like these.
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” Wilhelm teased with a smirk.
Simon paused, putting his hands on his hips. “And who’s responsible for making me flustered?”
Wilhelm placed a hand on his chest, feigning innocence. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.” He said it so smoothly that he watched with amusement as Simon’s cheeks turned bright red.
“Yes- well, uh, moving on. We don’t need this right before work,” Simon stammered, his voice taking on a slightly higher pitch.
Wilhelm smirked, knowing the effect he was having on Simon.
“Wilhelm, can you please help me find my shirt?”
“What’s the magic word?” Wilhelm teased, still in no rush to let him off the hook.
Simon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Wilhelm, my love, my life, my light, please help me find my shirt before I get fired?”
Finally satisfied, Wilhelm finished buttoning his shirt and stepped over to Simon. “That’s more like it,” he said, leaning in to kiss Simon before pulling his shirt out from under the bed covers.
Simon stared wide-eyed as he grabbed the shirt from Wilhelm’s hand. “You asshole! You had it hidden this whole time?”
Wilhelm burst out laughing as Simon muttered under his breath, hastily grabbing his tie from the table.
“You should’ve seen your face,” Wilhelm managed to say, his laughter bubbling over.
“Very funny,” Simon grumbled, heading toward the bathroom to get changed.
As the laughter settled, Wilhelm’s thoughts drifted. He realized that Simon often chose to change in the bathroom when they were in a rush or when Wilhelm was in the room. It wasn’t something he’d paid much attention to, but he’d started noticing it happened frequently. Wilhelm figured it might just be Simon’s habit or a way to save time, so he brushed the thought aside, deciding not to let it affect him as he finished getting ready for the day.
Wilhelm particularly cherished those early mornings when he and Simon would wake together, taking time to explore each other’s bodies with a gentle intimacy. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by warmth and familiarity, that Wilhelm felt most connected to Simon, savouring the closeness and the depth of their bond.
“Wille,” Simon sighed as Wilhelm continued trailing gentle kisses down his stomach, lingering for longer than needed and worshipping his boyfriend.
Wilhelm hovered near the waistband of Simon’s boxers, his movements slow and intentional as he delicately tugged at the fabric, planting soft, lingering kisses along Simon’s hipbones. Each touch was a tender exploration, a gesture of closeness and trust.
Simon’s breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping him. His head fell back, eyes shut tightly as he surrendered to the warmth and pleasure Wilhelm’s touch brought him, each caress drawing them closer in intimacy.
“Wille, please,” Simon murmured, his voice filled with need.
Wilhelm gave a soft, reassuring smile, his voice calming. “I know, baby. Just a little longer.” With gentle fingers, he slipped his thumbs under Simon’s waistband, starting to slide them down. But just as he began, Wilhelm hesitated, a thought crossing his mind.
“Can you roll over onto your stomach for me, darling?” he asked softly, gazing up through his lashes, his eyes warm yet curious.
Simon’s response was subtle yet clear; his eyes widened, and his posture stiffened slightly. Catching this, Wilhelm immediately stopped, sitting back on his knees to give Simon space, his tone instantly filled with care.
“Is everything okay?” he asked gently, his gaze searching Simon’s face for reassurance, and he didn’t feel like he was getting any from actions alone.
“Um, yeah, no, I’m—I’m fine, promise,” Simon replied, though the slight tremble in his voice betrayed him.
Wilhelm’s face softened with concern as he watched Simon, noticing the tension lingering in his boyfriend’s posture. “It doesn’t seem like it,” he said gently. “What’s going on, baby?”
Moving up alongside him, Wilhelm settled himself beside Simon, intertwining their fingers over Simon’s stomach - a small, grounding gesture. He hoped the familiar closeness might ease whatever was weighing on Simon’s mind.
Simon took a deep breath, his gaze drifting away before quietly admitting, “We’ve…we’ve never done anything with me on my stomach before. It just felt like…a lot, I guess?”
Wilhelm hummed softly in understanding, though he still didn’t fully grasp why it felt so intimidating for Simon. They’d often experimented with new things together, constantly checking in and respecting each other’s comfort levels. Their relationship was deeply rooted in trust, openness, and clearly defined boundaries, and Wilhelm took pride in always being attuned to when to push and when to hold back. But something in Simon’s voice now carried a vulnerability Wilhelm hadn’t expected.
“I get it,” he replied, choosing his words carefully. “Would you maybe want to go slow with it? See how it feels?”
Simon released a shaky sigh, tilting his head back as he processed Wilhelm’s suggestion. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly, his voice cracking on the last word.
Wilhelm’s heart sank at the raw honesty in Simon’s tone. His chest tightened as he watched Simon struggle with his emotions, a side of him that rarely surfaced. “What are you scared of, love?” he asked gently, hoping to create a space for Simon to open up without pressure.
Simon turned his head to meet Wilhelm’s gaze, and Wilhelm could see his boyfriend’s eyes glistening with tears. The sight startled Wilhelm, who instantly felt a wave of worry. He wasn’t quite sure what to do, but his instincts took over as he slid an arm around Simon and pulled him closer, bringing Simon’s head to rest against his chest. That slight, familiar touch seemed to be all Simon needed; he let go, releasing the emotions he’d been holding back.
Wilhelm held him tightly, rubbing slow, soothing circles along his back. He placed gentle kisses in Simon’s curls as his boyfriend sobbed quietly, letting himself be vulnerable in Wilhelm’s embrace. It hurt Wilhelm to see Simon like this, but he also understood that this openness was an act of deep trust.
“I’m sorry,” Simon whispered after a few moments, his voice shaky and muffled.
Wilhelm shook his head, brushing some curls from Simon’s face. “Don’t ever apologize, Simon. I just want to help you, you know that? I love you so much.”
Simon didn’t answer immediately, and Wilhelm didn’t expect him to. The fact that Simon was allowing himself to break down here, in Wilhelm’s arms, spoke volumes. His silence, the weight of his emotions, was its own powerful expression of the love and trust he felt.
They sat together quietly for several minutes, Wilhelm continuing to hold him close, waiting for Simon to feel ready. Eventually, Simon took a few steadying breaths and gently pulled back from the embrace, reaching into the bedside drawer for a tissue.
Wilhelm watched him, his expression soft and encouraging, allowing Simon the time to gather his thoughts. Finally, Wilhelm broke the silence with a gentle question. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Simon gave a slight nod, his gaze flickering away before he looked back at Wilhelm.
“Or, maybe I’ll just show you.”
Wilhelm swallowed hard, trying to prepare himself for whatever Simon was about to reveal. Simon slowly turned, shifting his body until he was fully facing away, and Wilhelm’s breath caught at the sight before him.
“Simon, I—” Wilhelm began, his voice thick with emotion.
“They don’t hurt,” Simon interrupted softly as if he’d expected the question. “They’re just scars.” He held himself steady, presenting his scarred back to his boyfriend. Wilhelm instantly understood that this was a profoundly personal pain Simon had guarded for a long time, an insecurity he’d finally gathered the courage to share. Wilhelm also sensed that each scar held layers of trauma he wasn’t going to pry into without invitation.
“Can I touch them?” Wilhelm asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper.
Simon nodded slowly, but Wilhelm held back. “Words, baby. I want words.”
“Yes,” Simon replied, his voice steady but quiet. “You can touch them.”
Wilhelm reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he ran his fingers delicately over Simon’s back, tracing each scar with reverence, feeling the grooves and indentations under his fingertips, the roughness of them with each slight touch. As his hand moved over the marks, Wilhelm’s heart ached, a deep sorrow filling him at the thought that someone could have inflicted such pain on someone as kind, wonderful, and brilliant as Simon.
Finally, Wilhelm reached the last scar and paused, pulling his hand away slowly as a shudder ran through him. He struggled to speak, his voice barely a whisper. “How-?”
“They’re from my father,” Simon said quietly, his voice tinged with a heaviness that hinted at years of silent suffering.
In that moment, Wilhelm’s sadness morphed into a deep, simmering anger. He’d known Simon’s father was brutal and unkind, but this - this was an unforgivable cruelty he hadn’t imagined.
“When Sara and I were younger, and he was… well, let’s just say he was struggling with his alcoholism, drinking all day and night, turning angry, throwing things around,” Simon began, his voice quiet and distant, as though the weight of those memories was still heavy on his chest.
He turned around to face Wilhelm fully, allowing him to see the pain in his eyes as he continued.
“I’d come home from school, and he’d already be passed out. That was almost a blessing, as morbid as it sounds. We knew he’d be out for hours, so we had time to lock ourselves in our bedrooms. My mom worked night shifts, so she always told us to go straight to our rooms and lock the doors. Sometimes, we’d even escape into each other’s rooms just so we weren’t alone.”
Wilhelm listened intently, his heart sinking with each word Simon spoke, but his own anger simmered beneath the surface. He didn’t speak but nodded, silently showing Simon he was there, understanding and listening.
“In instances where he wasn’t passed out, he’d get angry. Violent, even. It was impossible to escape. He’d throw anything he could get his hands on. TV remotes, picture frames, even empty beer bottles.”
Simon’s hand reached behind him, his fingers brushing over one particular scar near the bottom of his back. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“This one, right here, is from a broken beer bottle,” Simon said, his voice faltering. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t escape that night. He was on a rampage, tearing the house apart, and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I guess you can figure out the rest.”
Wilhelm’s throat tightened, his eyes filling with tears as he looked at the scar again. The image of Simon as a child, trapped in a home where chaos and fear were the norm, tore through him. He couldn’t fathom what it must have been like to live in constant fear, to never know when the next outburst would come, when the next object would fly through the air or when the next wound would be inflicted.
“Anyway,” Simon continued, his voice quieter now, “I suppose I was just insecure about them. I mean, I’ll have them forever. It’s not like I could’ve hidden them or covered them up. But I’m in a much better place now, and my father is long gone, so that’s all that matters. It’s probably one of the only things you didn’t know about me.”
He let out an empty laugh, the sound hollow in the quiet room, before he looked down at the bed, his shoulders heavy with unspoken emotions.
Wilhelm’s heart shattered at Simon’s words. He wanted to reach out, to take away the pain that still lingered, but all he could do was hold Simon’s gaze, his own tears threatening to spill as he processed everything Simon had shared. No child should have had to endure that; no one should have to carry such scars - both the physical and the emotional ones - and Wilhelm’s protective instincts surged.
“Simon,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “I don’t care about the scars. I care about you. I care about who you are, and I’m so fucking proud of how far you’ve come. No one should’ve had to endure that at such a young age, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Wilhelm reached over and pulled Simon into a deep embrace. “I promise you’re safe here, you’ll always be safe here, and I’ll always love you no matter what.”
Simon looked up at him then, his eyes glistening with vulnerability, and Wilhelm could see just how much it took for him to share that part of himself.
“I love you too, so much,” Simon murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he dove back into Wilhelm’s arms. Wilhelm held him tighter, feeling the weight of everything they had just shared, his chest full of warmth for the man in his arms.
For a moment, they simply held each other, the silence between them heavy with understanding. Then Simon slowly pulled back, and Wilhelm gazed at him intently, taking in the beauty of Simon’s face - the soft, familiar features - but also the shadows in his eyes, the ones that held the remnants of the trauma he carried from the past. Wilhelm couldn’t shake the weight of it, knowing Simon would carry that with him for the rest of his life. But what he could do was make sure Simon never had to face that kind of pain again, never had to suffer in silence.
With that thought, Wilhelm leaned in slowly, his lips finding Simon’s in a kiss that was soft and tender as if he were trying to pour all the care, all the love, and all the protection he felt into that simple gesture. He didn’t know if Simon would ever truly be able to leave the past behind, but he was determined to show him, every single day, how much he mattered.
When they pulled back, Wilhelm’s chest tightened at the moment's intensity, but he pushed it aside with a lighthearted smile. “Right, c’mon. Let’s have breakfast. My treat,” he said, eager to shift the mood and keep things light.
Simon laughed, a sound that lifted Wilhelm’s spirits as he stood and began to get dressed. “What do you suggest we have then?” Simon asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Wilhelm pretended to think momentarily; his expression was exaggerated in mock contemplation. “I don’t know, those hallacas you made the other morning were incredible. I think I could manage a decent attempt.”
Simon’s eyes widened. “You don’t know how to cook halla—”
“First time for everything, right?” Wilhelm interrupted, flashing a grin as he reached out and grabbed Simon’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “They’re going to be the best hallacas you’ve ever tasted,” he said with conviction, planting a quick kiss on Simon’s lips before tossing his shirt at him.
“You’re unbelievable,” Simon giggled, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Wilhelm teased, winking as he guided them toward the kitchen. The light, playful atmosphere between them was a welcome contrast to the heaviness of their conversation, and Wilhelm was determined to keep it that way. No matter what had happened in Simon’s past, Wilhelm would always be there to create new, happier memories with him.