Chapter Text
Two years together.
It didn’t feel real sometimes, how fast it had all gone by, how much they’d changed, and how much they’d grown into each other.
When Simon looked at Wilhelm now, it wasn’t just the same shy, tightly wound boy from Hillerska anymore.
He still was that boy, deep down- still thoughtful, still prone to overthinking, still with that instinct to retreat when things felt too loud, but now there was something steadier in his eyes. Something that came from years of fighting to be himself, even when it hurt.
And Simon knew, he’d been there for every piece of it.
They had made a promise early on, when they first tried to figure out what “being together” even meant after everything. A quiet night, two whispered confessions, and one small pinky promise:
They would never let fear decide who they got to be.
It started small. Simon had no idea that asking Wilhelm to sing with him one night would mean anything more than that, a song, a shared laugh. But that moment cracked something open.
For Wilhelm, being seen had always been a risk. His parents had made him feel like he had to earn love, and the palace had made him believe it came with a script he wasn’t allowed to change.
Simon had been the first person to rip that script apart.
He still remembered the first time he painted Wilhelm’s nails, a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight spilling through the curtains, and Wilhelm sprawled across Simon’s bed with his fingers spread clumsily.
Simon had joked that he’d never sat so still in his life, and Wilhelm had smiled, eyes soft and full of something Simon hadn’t seen before, peace.
And then came the eyeliner, just a thin line, shaky, and smudged halfway through because Wilhelm kept blinking. But when he saw himself in the mirror, he’d gone quiet. Not embarrassed, not unsure, just quiet, the kind of quiet that comes from finally recognizing the person looking back.
That was Simon’s magic. He didn’t just love Wilhelm, he gave him permission to exist without apology.
And in return, Wilhelm did the same for him, just in quieter ways.
Wilhelm never mocked Simon’s fears, never made him feel small for them. When Simon confessed that he couldn’t sleep without the light on, Wilhelm didn’t laugh.
He just started leaving the lamp on too. Then one night, he turned it off, whispered, “I’m right here,” and held Simon until morning.
It became their new ritual, Simon’s heartbeat pressed against Wilhelm’s chest, the dark no longer a threat but a soft space that belonged to them both.
And when Simon got self-conscious about his body, how he wasn’t as tall, how his shoulders weren’t broad like other guys, Wilhelm shut him up with the kind of touch that said, you’re exactly enough. Every kiss, every soft murmur against his skin rebuilt him, piece by piece, until Simon started believing it.
They’d built their relationship out of little acts of bravery.
Wilhelm speaking out against his family.
Simon daring to dream bigger than fear.
Two boys learning, over and over, that love didn’t mean perfection, it meant trying, together.
And now, on their two year anniversary, Wilhelm had planned something special. Something memorable.
Which would have been perfect, except for one thing: Simon absolutely hated heights.
Ferris wheels, rollercoasters, drop towers—anything that left the ground might as well have been designed by the universe to personally torment him. And Wilhelm knew that, which was exactly why he’d chosen it.
Because two years ago, they made a promise, and Wilhelm was determined to keep it.
So that’s exactly how Wilhelm found himself saying “okay, no peeking” to Simon, who was probably, for the fourth time, trying to peek through the blindfold. Who could blame him, he’s always been the impatient one in their relationship.
“Wille, I swear to god—”
“Simon.” Wilhelm’s voice held that faux-serious tone he used when he was trying not to laugh. “It’s called a surprise. That means you don’t get to ruin it five minutes in.”
Simon huffed, shifting in his seat as he fiddled with the edge of the blindfold.
“This is kidnapping, technically. You know that, right?”
Wilhelm chuckled. “If it was kidnapping, I wouldn’t be playing your playlist.”
The car filled with the soft hum of one of Simon’s favorite songs, the one he always swore he was tired of, even though he never skipped it. Simon’s pout softened instantly.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” Simon muttered.
Wilhelm reached over, brushing his thumb along Simon’s knuckles.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It definitely was.”
Simon turned his face toward the sound of Wilhelm’s voice, still blindfolded but already grinning.
“How long do I have to wear this thing?”
“Until we get there.”
“And where is there exactly?”
Wilhelm smirked, eyes flicking to the road.
“You’ll see.”
“That’s literally the point, Wille. I can’t see.”
That earned him another laugh, the kind that always made Simon’s chest feel like it was expanding. Wilhelm’s laugh had changed over the years, it used to sound restrained, like he was afraid of being too loud. Now, it was open. Effortless.
Simon smiled despite himself. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Maybe.” Wilhelm admitted. “You’re adorable when you’re annoyed.”
Simon kicked lightly at his shin. “You’re gonna regret that when I find out where we’re going.”
“I doubt it.” Wilhelm’s voice softened. “You trust me, right?”
Simon tilted his head, pretending to think.
“Hmm… statistically speaking, every time you say that, something terrifying happens.”
Wilhelm reached over again, this time letting his hand rest on Simon’s thigh.
“Statistically speaking,” he said quietly, “you always end up smiling anyway.”
Simon stilled. There it was, that shift in tone, the soft gravity that always pulled them back to the center of things. The teasing faded, replaced by something slower, deeper.
He covered Wilhelm’s hand with his own.
“You really went all out for this, huh?”
“It’s our anniversary,” Wilhelm said simply. “I wanted to do something we’d both remember.”
Simon smiled under the blindfold. “You didn’t have to—”
“I know.” Wilhelm’s thumb rubbed small circles against Simon’s leg. “But I wanted to. You’ve helped me do so many things I was scared of, Simon. I thought maybe it was my turn to help you do the same.”
Simon’s throat tightened a little. He tried to sound casual.
“You mean you’re taking me skydiving or something, aren’t you?”
Wilhelm snorted. “Not quite.”
“Bungee jumping?”
“Nope.”
“Rock climbing? Hang gliding? Oh my God, it’s hang gliding, isn’t it—”
“Simon.” Wilhelm was laughing now, head shaking. “Relax.”
“Relax? You blindfolded me! I don’t even know which direction we’re going. For all I know, we’re in another country—”
“Trust me, you’d notice if we crossed a border.”
Simon groaned. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I really do.”
Wilhelm grinned, leaning over at a red light to press a kiss to Simon’s cheek.
“You love me.”
Simon tried not to smile. Failed spectacularly.
“You’re lucky you’re right.”
“Always am.”
They fell into a comfortable silence after that, Simon humming softly to the music, Wilhelm sneaking glances at him between turns. The blindfold had slipped a little, a few curls of hair sticking out in the most endearing way possible.
Wilhelm’s chest ached in the best way. Two years, and Simon still made everything feel brand new.
As they pulled into the parking lot, Wilhelm bit back a grin. The distant sound of laughter, music, and the metallic rattle of rides filled the air. Simon’s brows furrowed under the blindfold.
“Okay, I hear people. And… something that sounds like screaming?”
Wilhelm parked the car, heart thudding.
“Screaming’s a strong word.”
Simon’s head whipped toward him. “Wilhelm.”
“Just stay still, okay?” Wilhelm jumped out of the car and ran around to Simon’s side, opening the door with a flourish. “We’re here.”
Simon groaned dramatically. “You’re insane. I’m breaking up with you.”
“No, you’re not.” Wilhelm’s grin widened. “Now come on, time to face your fears.”
“Face my—wait. Wille, where are we—”
But it was too late. Wilhelm slipped an arm around his waist, laughing as Simon stumbled out of the car, still half-blindfolded, still protesting.
And above the noise of the amusement park, Simon could hear the faint creak of something tall, too tall, in the distance.
“Oh no.”
Wilhelm’s laughter echoed beside him. “Oh yes.”
“Oh no,” Simon muttered again, tightening his grip on Wilhelm’s hand as the smell of popcorn and the sound of laughter filled the air.
“Absolutely not. Nope. No chance.”
Wilhelm was practically glowing beside him, grin stretching ear to ear.
“Come on, we just got here.”
“That’s exactly why we should leave while we still can.” Simon shot back, crossing his arms. The blindfold now hung around his neck like a badge of betrayal. “You said this would be a nice surprise. You didn’t say it would be a death trap.”
Wilhelm chuckled, tugging gently at his hand.
“It’s not a death trap, it’s an amusement park.”
“There’s nothing amusing about falling from a hundred meters in the air, Wille.”
“Then we won’t do that.” Wilhelm’s voice softened, as it always did when Simon’s nerves started showing. “I promise. No big rides, okay? Just us, walking around, eating too much candy. Being disgustingly cute in public.”
Simon narrowed his eyes. “You promise?”
Wilhelm lifted his hand, pretending to swear an oath.
“I solemnly swear to avoid all rollercoasters unless otherwise bribed.”
“Bribed?” Simon’s brow arched. “That’s not comforting.”
“It shouldn’t be.” Wilhelm said before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Simon’s mouth.
“Hey—no, you can’t just—”
Another kiss.
“Wille—”
And another.
“Okay, stop—”
Wilhelm ignored him, laughing as Simon tried to squirm away but didn’t actually go anywhere.
“Are you convinced yet?” He murmured against Simon’s cheek.
Simon sighed dramatically. “You’re the worst.”
“But you love me.”
“I really need to stop saying that.”
“Too late.”
“I refuse to die like this.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” Simon’s eyes widened as a rollercoaster thundered past overhead, rattling metal echoing in his bones. “That’s not drama, Wille, that’s survival instinct.”
Wilhelm laughed and laced their fingers together.
“Relax. We’re not going on anything you don’t want to. I swear. Just… trust me.”
Simon narrowed his eyes. “That’s the same thing you said before I tried sushi for the first time.”
“And you liked it.”
“I liked one bite.”
“That still counts.” Wilhelm squeezed his hand and leaned closer. “Come on, we’ll take it slow. I just want us to walk around for a bit.”
Simon sighed in defeat, mumbling, “You and your stupid dimples.”
Wilhelm chuckled, brushing his thumb over the back of Simon’s hand.
“They work every time.”
They started walking, weaving through the crowd. The sun was low enough to cast everything in a honey-colored glow, lights flickering to life around the park.
The air smelled of cotton candy and fried dough, of something sweet and fleeting. Simon’s initial tension started to melt away, not because the rides seemed any less terrifying, but because Wilhelm was next to him, and everything with Wilhelm always felt a little bit safer.
They stopped at a small stand selling oversized lollipops. Simon reached for one, grinning like a kid.
“This is more my speed. Stationary sugar.”
Wilhelm raised a brow. “You’re seriously going to eat that entire thing?”
“Watch me.”
A group of teenagers nearby recognized Wilhelm, Simon saw it in the way they whispered, glancing over, but Wilhelm didn’t even look their way.
He just turned to Simon, smiling like there was no one else in the world. It still hit Simon sometimes, how unapologetically Wilhelm loved him now, how unashamedly free he looked.
“You’re staring.” Simon teased.
“Can you blame me?” Wilhelm said easily.
Simon tried to look unimpressed, but the blush gave him away instantly.
“You’re lucky it’s our anniversary.”
“I’m lucky every day.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon’s heart did that annoying flutter it always did when Wilhelm got sincere without warning.
They passed a shooting gallery where kids were playing with water guns, then a booth with people winning giant teddy bears. Simon laughed as one of the balloons popped nearby, startling Wilhelm so badly that he flinched.
“Okay, that one’s your fear, not mine.” Simon said, smug.
Wilhelm pouted. “It was loud.”
“Mmhm.” Simon bumped his shoulder. “Maybe you need me to hold your hand for comfort.”
“Already am.” Wilhelm pointed out, tightening his grip just to prove it.
Simon chuckled. “Touché.”
After a few more minutes of wandering, sharing a stick of cotton candy, arguing about whether candy apples were evil, they found themselves in front of the Balloon Pop booth.
Simon stopped, eyes glinting. “This one. I can feel it. This is where I redeem myself.”
“From what?” Wilhelm laughed.
“From… life, obviously.” Simon stepped forward, taking a dart in hand. “Oh, you’re going down.” He said, rolling up his sleeves with mock seriousness.
Wilhelm raised a brow. “You sure about that?”
“I’ve got precision. You’ve got… privilege.”
“Wow.” Wilhelm laughed. “You’re starting with class warfare?”
“Whatever it takes to win.”
Simon squinted one eye and sticking out his tongue in concentration. His first dart missed completely, the second grazed the edge of a balloon, and the third… hit the wooden frame with a sad little thunk.
He groaned. “Okay, the wind cheated.”
“There’s no wind, Simon.”
“Then the universe cheated.”
Wilhelm was trying so hard not to laugh that his shoulders shook.
“You’re… you’re really talented at this.”
“Shut up.” Simon said, glaring at him, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “These darts are rigged.”
“Sure they are.” Wilhelm paid for his own round, stepping up like he’d been training for this moment.
“Okay, Prince Charming,” Simon said. “Let’s see you embarrass yourself.”
Pop.
“Beginner’s luck.” Simon muttered.
Pop.
Simon folded his arms. “That one doesn’t count.”
Pop.
Simon groaned. “You’re not even aiming properly!”
Wilhelm turned, smug grin in place. “I don’t need to. I’m just naturally good at everything.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Never.”
The booth attendant handed Wilhelm a small plush cat, its fur soft and gray with a little pink ribbon. Wilhelm turned it over in his hands and then looked at Simon, his grin turning mischievous.
“Here,” he said, holding it out. “for you.”
Simon blinked. “You won. You keep it.”
Wilhelm shook his head. “No, it’s yours. I see no difference between this cat and you, honestly.”
Simon groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“It looks just like you.”
Simon blinked. “It’s a cat.”
“Exactly.” Wilhelm’s tone was mock-serious. “Small, cute, dramatic, and occasionally mean for no reason.”
Simon stared at him, then groaned, burying his face in Wilhelm’s shoulder.
“You’re the worst person alive.”
Wilhelm laughed, the sound vibrating against Simon’s cheek.
“And yet, you’re still hugging me.”
“I’m hiding from the embarrassment.” Simon mumbled into his neck, but the way his lips brushed against Wilhelm’s skin betrayed him. He placed a soft, fleeting kiss there before pulling back, cheeks flushed.
Wilhelm’s smile softened. “You can admit you like it, you know.”
“I’m admitting nothing.” Simon took the plushie, glaring half-heartedly. “But… thank you.”
Wilhelm brushed a curl out of his face. “You’re welcome, älskling.”
Simon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin.
“If you start calling me ‘kitty’ I’m leaving you here.”
Wilhelm pretended to think about it. “Tempting.”
“Wilhelm!”
He laughed again, that bright, unrestrained sound that made Simon’s stomach flip.
“Fine, fine. No cat jokes, for now.”
They started walking again, the plushie tucked safely under Simon’s arm. The park lights glowed brighter as dusk deepened, colors reflecting off their faces. Somewhere in the distance, the Ferris wheel turned slowly against the purple sky. Simon caught sight of it and swallowed hard.
Wilhelm noticed. He always did.
He leaned in, voice low and gentle.
“You’re doing great, you know. You didn’t run away once.”
Simon smirked. “Yet.”
They drifted deeper into the park, their hands brushing, sometimes linking, sometimes falling apart only to find each other again. Around them, lights blinked in pinks and blues, laughter tangled with the scent of popcorn and warm air.
Simon kept his eyes moving, scanning every towering structure like a soldier surveying enemy territory.
“So,” Wilhelm said, nodding toward the spinning ride that looked like a glowing blur of color. “that one?”
Simon’s response was immediate. “Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
“Because I enjoy having internal organs in their correct places.”
Wilhelm laughed, squeezing Simon’s hand.
“Okay, fine. Not that one.”
They moved on. The next was a drop tower that launched riders up into the air with a hiss of compressed air and a chorus of screams.
“How about—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence.”
“You didn’t even let me ask!” Wilhelm teased.
“I know you too well,” Simon said, crossing his arms but still smiling. “You’ve got that evil look again.”
“This one’s supposed to have a great view.” Wilhelm said, feigning innocence.
“Yeah, of the afterlife, maybe.”
Wilhelm threw his head back laughing, the sound warm and unrestrained. He looked over at Simon, and his laughter softened into something gentler.
“You’re cute when you’re scared, you know that?”
Simon shot him a look. “You realize that’s not helping, right?”
“It’s true, though.” Wilhelm leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper just for him. “Your nose scrunches up and everything.”
Simon tried not to smile. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me.”
“I should really stop encouraging that line.”
Wilhelm grinned, eyes glinting. “Too late. It’s my catchphrase now.”
Simon groaned but let himself lean into Wilhelm’s side anyway, their shoulders pressed together as they walked. He could feel the heat of Wilhelm’s body even through his jacket, and for a moment, it made the world around them blur into something quieter. Just the two of them, hand in hand, hearts matching pace.
After a while, Simon slowed down near a cluster of food stalls.
“Okay,” he said. “I have to pee. Don’t lose the cat.”
He pressed the plushie into Wilhelm’s hands like it was something sacred.
“I’ll guard it with my life.” Wilhelm said solemnly.
Simon rolled his eyes, smiling as he disappeared into the crowd.
Wilhelm watched him go, thumb absently brushing the soft fabric of the plushie. He looked around the park, the lights, the laughter, the giant rides turning lazily against the evening sky.
He wanted this night to be something Simon remembered not as something terrifying, but as something the two of them did together.
So when his eyes landed on a moderately tall ride, a rotating swing that lifted people high enough to see the whole park but not so high it would send Simon running, he couldn’t resist.
By the time Simon came back, Wilhelm was waiting near a bench, arms crossed, expression far too pleased with himself.
Simon slowed down immediately. “Oh no. What did you do?”
Wilhelm’s smirk grew. “Nothing illegal.”
“That’s not comforting.”
Wilhelm held up two paper tickets between his fingers, the edges catching the light.
“I got us seats on the SkySwing.”
Simon froze. “The what.”
“It’s not that high,” Wilhelm said quickly.
“‘Not that high’?!” Simon’s voice pitched upward. “You measure ‘high’ differently than normal humans.”
Wilhelm stepped closer, eyes bright with mischief but voice soft with reassurance.
“It’s not even close to the Ferris wheel’s height. You can see everything from up there-lights, the park, the city. It’s beautiful.”
“It’s deadly.” Simon countered. “Do you want me to die on our anniversary?”
Wilhelm bit back a laugh. “Come on, you said no big rides, and this isn’t big. It’s… medium.”
“I don’t do medium heights either.”
“Simon.” Wilhelm’s tone gentled again. “You trust me, right?”
Simon looked at him, already knowing he was losing this battle. That was the problem with Wilhelm, he never forced, never pressured. He just looked at Simon like that, with that open face and the kind of patience that made it impossible to say no.
Simon sighed, rubbing his face with one hand.
“You’re evil.”
“I’m romantic.”
“Those are synonyms in your dictionary.”
Wilhelm grinned. “You’ll thank me later.”
“Doubt it.”
He reached out and took Simon’s hand again, fingers fitting together automatically.
“I’ll be right next to you the whole time. Promise.”
Simon exhaled slowly, still glaring at the tickets like they’d personally betrayed him.
“If I die, I’m haunting you.”
Wilhelm squeezed his hand, eyes shining.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The line for the SkySwing snaked around the corner, bright lights reflecting off the polished metal seats as the ride whirred above them. Each time it lifted another group into the air, Simon’s stomach seemed to lift too, only his didn’t come back down as easily.
He was holding Wilhelm’s hand so tightly that Wilhelm’s knuckles had gone white.
“You sure you’re okay?” Wilhelm asked, trying not to laugh.
“No.” Simon said immediately. “In fact, I’m the exact opposite of okay. I’m regretting every life choice that led me here.”
Wilhelm smiled, thumb brushing over Simon’s hand.
“You’re being dramatic again.”
“This is not drama, Wille, this is impending doom.” Simon said, gesturing wildly toward the ride as another group soared into the air, their laughter echoing through the park. “Look at them! They’re screaming because their bodies are rebelling against gravity!”
“They’re screaming because they’re having fun.” Wilhelm corrected gently.
“Fun. Right. That’s what people call it when they make peace with death.”
Wilhelm tried to hide his grin but failed spectacularly. He leaned closer until his shoulder bumped Simon’s.
“You’re adorable when you’re panicking, you know that?”
“Don’t patronize me.” Simon muttered, trying to sound offended but mostly sounding breathless.
“I’m serious. Your eyebrows do this little thing when you’re nervous.” Wilhelm reached up to trace the air just above them, grinning.
“Keep talking and I’ll add you to my list of things I’m terrified of.”
Wilhelm chuckled and squeezed his hand again.
“Deal.”
The line moved forward. Simon swallowed hard.
“Okay.” He said under his breath. “Okay, I can do this. I can totally do this. I’ll just close my eyes, and if I die, I’ll haunt you forever.”
“That’s the spirit.” Wilhelm teased.
“That’s the ghost you mean.” Simon snapped, glaring at him but leaning closer anyway.
When the group ahead of them was finally unbuckled and stepped off, the attendant waved them forward.
Simon froze. “Wait, wait—this feels really final.”
“Because it’s your turn.” Wilhelm said softly. “You got this.”
“No, I—wait—Wille!”
But Wilhelm was already tugging him gently toward their seats, laughing quietly the whole way. Simon clutched the little cat plushie to his chest like it was a talisman.
The attendant, a friendly-looking man with a cap, helped secure the belts over them. He noticed Simon’s white-knuckled grip and trembling knee and smiled kindly.
“First time?”
“Last time.” Simon muttered darkly.
Wilhelm tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh.
The man grinned at Wilhelm. “Your boyfriend’s endearing.”
Simon’s head whipped around, glare sharp enough to cut steel.
“Probably ex after this.”
Wilhelm laughed outright this time, leaning over to kiss Simon’s cheek.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Simon said, though his voice was already softening.
The belts clicked into place, snug and final. The platform beneath them began to hum, and Simon’s stomach dropped before they even started moving.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes wide. “we’re moving. We’re actually—oh no. No, no, no, I changed my mind. Tell them to stop!”
Wilhelm took his hand, interlacing their fingers.
“Simon, look at me.”
“No, I’m busy having a crisis.”
“Just look at me.”
Simon turned, eyes full of panic and something else, trust, buried somewhere under all the fear. Wilhelm’s voice softened, low and steady.
“Hey. Breathe with me, okay? In and out.”
Simon tried. It came out more like a gasp, but it was something.
The seats began to lift slowly, rising a few meters off the ground as the next group climbed in below. The view opened up around them, glittering lights, the scent of sugar and warm air, laughter rising like music. Simon, however, looked unconvinced.
“Oh my god, we’re leaving the ground, I can feel it.” He rambled. “I’m gonna die here. I didn’t even visit Italy yet. I forgot to say goodbye to Mom. Sara’s gonna sell my guitar—”
Wilhelm bit back a laugh, eyes shining. “You’re not dying.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re immortal or something.”
Wilhelm reached up and cupped Simon’s cheek, thumb brushing the edge of his jaw.
“Hey, you’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Simon blinked at him, chest rising and falling fast. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Only a little.” Wilhelm said, smiling. “You’re very cute when you’re terrified.”
“I hate you so much.”
“You love me.”
Simon groaned. “Why do you always have to be right?”
“Because you keep proving me right.”
That earned him a weak laugh, the kind that came between fear and surrender. Simon’s grip on Wilhelm’s hand loosened slightly. Not much, but enough for Wilhelm to know he was starting to breathe again.
The ride paused in midair, swaying gently as the last few people were secured below. Simon muttered something under his breath about ghosts and bad life decisions, and Wilhelm just laughed quietly, pressing a quick kiss to the back of his hand.
“See?” He whispered. “You’re already doing it.”
Simon didn’t trust his voice, so he just glared, but there was a small, helpless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The seats stopped moving once everyone was buckled in. The park below looked like a map of lights, small, harmless, beautiful. To anyone else, maybe. To Simon, it looked like altitude.
He gripped Wilhelm’s arm with both hands.
“Okay. Okay, we’re too high. This is too high. I changed my mind. I want to go home.”
Wilhelm tried not to laugh. “We haven’t even started yet.”
“That’s the problem!” Simon’s voice cracked somewhere between panic and disbelief. “If this is how high we are before it starts, imagine—oh my god, no, no, no—”
And then, for good measure, he started praying.
Not the quiet kind, either. Out loud.
“Dear God, I swear I’ll be a better person if I survive this. I’ll stop mocking August, I’ll stop stealing Wille’s hoodies, I’ll—oh my god, this is how I die—”
Wilhelm bit his lip to keep from laughing, shoulders shaking. “Simon…”
“Don’t talk to me right now, I’m in a conversation with the divine.”
“You’re so dramatic.” Wilhelm teased, voice soft, fond.
“I’m being realistic.” Simon snapped, eyes shut tight.
The mechanical hum grew louder. They were lifted just a bit higher, the seats swaying gently.
The world felt far, far away. Simon gripped Wilhelm’s arm so tightly that his nails dug in.
Wilhelm didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted closer until their knees bumped, until Simon could feel his warmth through the cool air.
“Hey,” Wilhelm whispered, his voice a soft tether in the noise. “I’m right here. I’m not letting go, okay?”
Simon didn’t respond, just nodded weakly, still clutching at him.
“You’ve got this.” Wilhelm murmured, brushing his thumb over Simon’s knuckles. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
Simon let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.
“You have a weird definition of brave.”
“I have an accurate one,” Wilhelm said. “and it’s you.”
Before Simon could answer, the ride jolted. There was that awful click, the pause before the plunge.
“Oh, hell no—”
And then they were falling.
Simon’s scream tore through the air immediately, pure, unfiltered chaos. He was convinced every organ in his body had shifted at least three centimeters. His stomach was in his throat, his heart somewhere near his shoes. The world became wind, lights, and motion, too fast, too much.
He screamed Wilhelm’s name at least three times, maybe more, he wasn’t keeping track.
But somewhere between the panic and the next drop, something strange happened.
He didn’t die.
The ride swung out over the park, the city twinkling beneath them, and amid all the chaos, Simon dared to crack his eyes open. Just for a second. The air rushed cold against his face, the lights below looked like spilled glitter, and beside him Wilhelm was laughing, loud, unguarded, beautiful.
For a heartbeat, Simon forgot to be scared.
He turned his head and saw Wilhelm’s grin, the corners of his eyes crinkled, hair whipping in the wind. He looked so happy that it almost hurt.
“Simon!” Wilhelm shouted over the roar. “You’re doing it!”
Simon half-laughed, half-screamed. “I hate this!”
“You love it!”
“I hate you!”
Wilhelm’s laughter echoed through the wind.
“Still worth it!”
Another drop. Simon clutched the cat plushie to his chest with one hand and Wilhelm’s sleeve with the other, yelling every profanity he could remember, and maybe inventing a few new ones along the way.
They weren’t slowing down yet. The swings tilted higher, the night air rushing cold and sharp against their skin. Simon’s voice was half-scream, half-running commentary.
“Oh my god, we’re going to die, Wille, I swear if I live through this I’m never forgiving you—!”
Wilhelm was laughing so hard he could barely catch his breath.
“You’re doing amazing!”
“Don’t patronize me!” Simon yelled back. “This is not—oh my—why are we sideways?! Why are we sideways?”
“It’s supposed to do that!” Wilhelm called.
“Supposed to? Who designs this kind of torture?”
Wilhelm’s laughter only grew louder, the sound cutting through the wind like sunlight through clouds. Simon was still gripping his arm for dear life, but every few seconds he found himself glancing sideways, seeing Wilhelm’s smile, the way his hair whipped across his face, the pure joy radiating off him.
And, just maybe, it made something inside Simon unclench.
The lights blurred below them, the park stretched wide and glittering, the faint smell of sugar and smoke rising in the wind. He still screamed at every turn, but somewhere between the drops and the spins, he laughed too. It burst out of him, nervous, disbelieving, real.
“I hate this!” He shouted.
Wilhelm shouted back, “You’re smiling!”
“I’m smiling out of terror!”
“Whatever works!”
The swings finally began to slow, climbing higher one last time before the final descent. Simon exhaled a shaky laugh, his whole body trembling with adrenaline.
“I swear,” he muttered, “if you ever do this again—”
“You’ll go with me?” Wilhelm teased.
“No!”
Wilhelm grinned. “We’ll see.”
Simon glared, but Wilhelm could see the smile tugging at his lips, the way his shoulders had finally relaxed. The air was cool and quiet up here, the city stretching endlessly below. For a heartbeat, Simon just breathed.
The swings cut through the air again, dipping and climbing in wide arcs. Wind rushed past them in cool bursts, and every time they tilted, Simon let out another string of curses that blended with laughter from below.
“Oh my god, why does it keep going?” He shouted, voice ragged.
“Because you’re doing great!” Wilhelm yelled back, half-laughing, half-beaming.
“I hate you! I hate this! I hate physics!”
Wilhelm was laughing so hard he could barely catch his breath.
“You’re doing amazing, älskling!”
“Don’t you älskling me right now!” Simon shouted, squeezing his eyes shut again.
But when the ride climbed high one last time, the motion slowed just enough for him to open them again. Below them, the entire amusement park glowed, ferris wheel lights, neon signs, clusters of moving color. For a second, his stomach didn’t twist. For a second, it was just beautiful.
He turned his head, breath catching. Wilhelm was still watching him, face lit by the carnival lights, hair mussed by the wind. Their hands were still locked tight between them.
Simon huffed out a laugh that was half disbelief, half awe.
“You’re so lucky I love you.”
Wilhelm grinned. “I know.”
“I mean it,” Simon said. “I could’ve dated someone who takes me bowling.”
“But then you wouldn’t have this view,” Wilhelm said, eyes flicking from the skyline back to Simon. “or me.”
Simon rolled his eyes, but his mouth betrayed him with a smile.
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re adorable.”
The swings began to descend slowly, tilting back toward the ground. Simon let out a long, shaky breath.
“Okay,” he muttered, voice still trembling. “okay, I’m alive. I think I actually survived this. Oh my god, I survived.”
Wilhelm squeezed his hand gently. “Told you.”
Simon glared at him, but the warmth in his eyes gave him away.
“You’re never choosing our dates again.”
“Sure,” Wilhelm said, smirking. “until the next one.”
“Don’t push your luck, sweetheart.”
When the ride finally eased to a stop, Simon’s knees felt like they’d been replaced with pudding. The safety belts popped open with a soft click, and the attendant leaned over with a grin.
“Congrats, man,” he said. “you survived.”
Simon blinked at him, hair sticking to his forehead. “Barely. Tell your boss I want emotional compensation.”
Wilhelm laughed so hard he almost doubled over.
The man chuckled, patting Simon’s shoulder.
“You did good, though. Not everyone keeps their eyes open.”
“I didn’t,” Simon muttered. “not voluntarily.”
When he stood, gravity felt like an unfamiliar concept. His legs wobbled, the world tilted slightly. Before he could stumble, Wilhelm was there, hands steady at his waist, pulling him close.
Simon collapsed against him instinctively, forehead finding Wilhelm’s shoulder, breath coming in shallow bursts.
“I hate you.” Simon mumbled again, but the words were muffled against Wilhelm’s jacket.
“No, you don’t.” Wilhelm whispered, arms tightening around him. He rubbed slow circles against Simon’s back, voice quiet and full of pride. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.”
Simon exhaled, long and shaky. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only exhaustion and the deep, dizzying comfort of Wilhelm’s touch. He could feel Wilhelm’s heartbeat against his own, steady and grounding.
After a moment, he lifted his head just enough to meet Wilhelm’s eyes.
“Maybe I… overreacted. A little.”
Wilhelm smiled softly. “Maybe. Just a little.”
Simon’s lips twitched. “You’re never gonna let me forget this, are you?”
“Not a chance.” Wilhelm’s thumb brushed against Simon’s cheek. “But hey, one fear down.”
Simon tilted his head. “And about two hundred to go.”
Wilhelm chuckled. “We’ll handle them. Together.”
The words sank in, simple and certain. Simon felt his chest loosen, warmth blooming where the fear had been.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “together.”
Wilhelm leaned in, their foreheads touching for a heartbeat before Simon lifted his chin. The kiss that followed wasn’t dramatic or hurried, it was the kind that built slowly, full of relief and affection and the kind of love that made the world fade out for a moment.
When they finally broke apart, Simon rested his head against Wilhelm’s collarbone, still smiling.
“Next year,” he said, voice low, “we’re doing something normal. Dinner. A movie. No near-death experiences.”
Wilhelm’s laugh vibrated against him. “We’ll see.”
Simon groaned, but his fingers slipped easily back into Wilhelm’s.
“You’re impossible.”
Wilhelm kissed his temple. “And you love me for it.”
Simon sighed, pretending to roll his eyes, but his smile said everything.