Chapter Text
September 2023
Wilhelm never liked new beginnings; he always felt uncomfortable and anxious, more self-conscious than ever—if that was even possible.
He was starting university in two days, moving in a few hours, and he was panicking in front of an unfinished suitcase while talking to his boyfriend on speakers. He kept thinking about all the mistakes he could make, all the people who wouldn’t like him or the people who would like him only because of who he was. He kept thinking that eventually everyone would understand that he was just a boring kid and leave him behind, including Simon.
"Wille, you just need some clothes and a toothbrush, if you forget something I’m sure they can send it over," Simon said, snapping him out of his trance: he was overthinking; it was maybe the fourth time Simon was repeating the list of things he needed out loud, but Wille wasn’t good at listening when he was so much in his head.
"Can you repeat why you can’t come here now?" he asked, sounding as stupidly clingy as he was.
Simon sighed, probably rolling his eyes. "Because the airport is on my way from home. Coming to the palace will add an extra hour of traffic. We can meet at the airport, which you can easily reach in your car." He was repeating everything with the tone you would use with a child asking why teleporting wasn’t a thing.
Wille nodded, even if he knew Simon couldn’t see him. "Okay, I’ll close this shit and get the car.”
He didn’t know why he was so nervous, he didn’t know why his throat felt as dry as the desert, he didn’t know why packing his stuff felt so overwhelming. He should have been happy, and excited to say the least, but his stomach and chest were not agreeing with his brain. What if he would suck at university? What if everything he was good at was being a prince? Not a decent one, even.
"Tonight we will be sleeping in our new bed, in our new apartment in a city we both love. That’s all that matters, Wille," as always, Simon was reading his mind.
"I love you," he said, unable to formulate any other sentence.
"I love you too, mi Wille," Simon said back, he used that little epithet he knew Wilhelm loved. "See you in an hour,” he added, before saying goodbye.
Wille gave a last glance at his room, now mostly empty. It was crazy how he made that fancy-ass room look remotely cozy, how he managed to make it scream his name and not the centuries of royalty it witnessed. He looked at the red neon lights, the same he had put up in his dorm room at Hillerska, hating himself for leaving them behind. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t simply bring them in his suitcase, but Simon reassured him that they could buy new lights in London.
He looked at the wall filled with pictures he collected over the past two years with his friends. He couldn’t believe how much things had changed from the first year at Hillerska, how much that anxious little kid turned into the slightly less anxious and surely happier Wille.
On the very top of his wall, there was a picture of him and Felice painting their nails taken by Sara; it became a tradition during their second year of school: every Friday night they would all hang out at Felice’s place to paint their nails. Wille would bring the most ridiculous colors he could find at the store, and the girls would scream at him for the amount of polish he had bitten off during the week. “It should last you two weeks, Wille!” Felice would always say, but she didn’t mind having this weekly appointment with his best friend, she just wished he stopped being so anxious to the point of biting his nails.
Then, there was a picture of him and Simon eating a hot dog at one of Rosh’s games. It had been taken by Ayub, who didn’t fail to mock Simon bringing back the first time that scene occurred, when he wasn’t able to tell Wille if he preferred his hot dog boiled or grilled. Wille smiled fondly at the memory, he remembered how embarrassed and clumsy he felt, being out in Bjarstad with Simon for the first time, trying with all his heart to be the most regular kid he could ever be - even if he failed at buying a bus ticket, to begin with. So he didn’t care at all if Simon stuttered when he couldn’t decide. It was cute, nonetheless.
Right under that picture, there was a selfie portraying him and Ayub at a vintage market, a passion they discovered having in common: they would spend hours trying to find the best deal and the greatest fit, making Rosh and Simon ditch them after the first ten minutes, saying that they couldn’t understand why they liked buying smelly clothes. “You can wash them, you know” Ayub would say every time, making everyone laugh.
On the side, there was a picture of the first time he cooked with Simon and Linda; they decided to make things difficult by making empanadas: after putting too much stuffing in the first ones and breaking all the dough while closing them, he gave up, helping to wash the dishes instead.
On the other side, there was the picture of the first Christmas he spent at the Eriksson’s, the first Christmas he honestly enjoyed after Erik’s death. He felt bad for his parents at first, ditching them to be with his boyfriend’s family. He was everything they had left after all, but of course, they had duties to attend - with August. Later on, to his surprise, they managed to show up, that’s when they took the picture that was hung just under the previous one: it was the first unposed picture he had with his parents, with casual clothes he swore he never saw his mum wear, his super short pinkish hair Simon hated (“I just miss putting my hands in your long hair” he would always say, “you can wear them longer and pink, you know”), and his father laughing at something Simon was saying behind the camera.
He couldn’t believe how his life changed for the better in just two years. Sure, he still missed Erik, he still hated him for the gay-porn thing, he still had anxiety and still occasionally argued with his mother, but he would have never believed that he was finally out of his royal prison.
He glanced at the wall, and took off one of the pictures, ready to bring it with him. It was the car ride towards his freedom. That car ride after his first year at Hillerska, where the summer in which he truly became himself started.
June 2021
The first stop of that ride was Simon’s house. While Felice already had a suitcase with her, Wille left everything in his parents’ car, and Simon and Sara of course needed to grab a few things. "We can share everything," Simon told him as if it was the most logical and reasonable thing to do. Wille nodded, maybe too eagerly, loving the idea of wearing Simon’s clothes.
"Oh, I also have your jumper," the shorter boy said, looking a bit embarrassed, his cheeks red. He could swear Simon tried his best to look cool while talking, but he knew him too well not to notice he was flustered. Wille shot him a questioning look: he knew he never gave him a jumper of his, and he knew his boyfriend didn’t steal one recently, he would have noticed.
Simon took a step towards his bed, making Wille’s mind generate even more questions until he grabbed the orange sweater from under his pillow.
Oh, Wille thought, I remember that day.
"I didn’t mean to steal it," he said shyly, looking down. "It just… It smelled like you, and I missed you back then. I also missed you this week, and it comforted me when I couldn’t sleep.”
"You don’t have to say anything, Simme,” Wilhelm reassured him, trying so hard not to smile. "You can keep it if you want.”
Simon shook his head, finally locking his eyes with the former prince’s ones. "I have you now, forever," he said. "And it doesn’t have your scent anymore.”
Wille laughed, immediately throwing his arms around his boyfriend. "You can have my Hillerska shirt if you want. You know, I took a jog in it today, it should have just the right amount of scent on it.”
Now it was Simon’s turn to laugh, making the sound Wille loved the most - well, after his singing, of course. "No, this shirt stinks, you should get a shower.”
Wille put on his most brilliant acting face to look hurt, and just like he did when Simon told him his morning breath sucked, he threw his left armpit right under his boyfriend’s nose. "You are disgusting, Wille,” Simon moaned. "What do they teach princes nowadays? Shouldn’t you know how to behave?"
He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed that much, the last time he felt so carefree. "Actually, I’m not a prince. Not anymore.”
He was bursting up with joy. He was finally able to breathe, and he was finally ready to be himself and be with Simon, not caring if something he did wasn’t pre-approved by the court, not caring if he was allowed to say something or if it was out of the guidelines the PR team laid out for him when he was ten: back then they had a huge meeting to outline who the spare prince was, what he liked and how he talked.
He was finally able to be Wille, the silly queer kid who was experiencing love for the first time in his life and who didn’t have to care about a country relying on his shoulders. He was finally able to be a kid, he clearly couldn’t stand still. "Where are we going?" he asked, once the Eriksson siblings were ready.
Felice laughed, and he couldn’t understand what was so funny about his question. "Wille, you need to calm down, you look like a five-year-old on his first school trip.”
Wille looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Well, this completely sums up the whole situation," Simon joked, adding a bit of truth to Felice’s comment. "It’s the first trip without Malin for sure.”
Wille laughed, feeling lighter than ever. He wrapped Simon in a tight hug, before grabbing the backpack from his boyfriend and leaving a quick kiss on his shoulders.
“Enough," Sara hissed, not pissed for real. "We should get going.”
They all laughed when Wille asked “Where?” for the millionth time, but he didn’t mind at all. He was happy sitting on that backseat with Simon’s arms wrapped around him, no seatbelt on for the first time in his life, and the windows down letting the wind mess his hair: no one would tell him to fix them or add a bit of hairspray to make them look tidy.
The first stop was Jönköping, a bigger city on the lake Vättern. They parked near the center, aiming to take a stroll along the river banks, get some food, and lay on the beach. No strict timings, no deadlines, and no expectations to compel.
Wille had been there with his family before, to some stupid state event he didn’t even bother remembering. On the other hand, he remembered the picnic he had with Erik on the long beach by the lakeshore: he was twelve, maybe, they managed to escape, and only a guard was appointed to them, making everything feel almost normal. They made chicken sandwiches, buying everything from a small store near the beach, making everyone in the store freak out because the princes were shopping for groceries. Royals eat, what great news.
"What are you thinking about?" Simon asked eventually. He was already aware of how much his boyfriend could understand him with just a simple glance, especially when he was deeply lost in his thoughts, but it never failed to make his heart skip a beat.
Simon took Wilhelm’s hand and the boy loved how spontaneous and right that touch felt. He loved how he was able to casually walk in a random city with his friends and the love of his life. Without anyone following.
"I’ve been here before," he said, quietly, but not sadly. "With Erik.”
Simon immediately looked at him with worried eyes, the same look he had multiple times in the music room, the same look he had when he noticed Wilhelm was acting anxious. "I’m sorry, it must be awful to remember how it was here with him," he mumbled.
Wille shook his head, smiling. "It is a happy memory.”
Simon shot a smile back at him as well, strongly squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. "Would you like to share it with me?"
Wilhelm didn’t know if it was the question itself, the gentle tone Simon used, or the calming look he had in his eyes, but he felt like he could talk about Erik without panicking for the first time.
"It was nothing fancy. Our parents had a meeting here, and Mum was forcing us to dress up, ties and everything.” Wilhelm smiled at the memory, or mainly at the thought that he would never be forced to wear a suit anymore if he didn’t want to. "I was having a hard time, as usual.”
Simon looked at him with a subtle angry glance, as if he wanted to say that having feelings definitely wasn’t his fault, but Wille just kept going on with his monologue. "Erik noticed I was close to having a panic attack, so he managed to get us out of that meeting. I don’t know how he did that. Every time. He would say a few words to our mother and she would simply agree.” Now his smile was no longer the same happy one he had a few moments ago, it was slightly filled with resignation: even if he managed to have his parents’ approval on his abdication, he knew he wasn’t going to be an easy journey, he knew they would never give him their full support - not the same they gave Erik anyway.
"Well, we spent the day on that beach over there," he pointed to the white string of land not too far from where they were standing. "We had a picnic, we played stupid card games, we ran a little. We even got in the water, fully clothed, making our guard completely furious. But we laughed, we laughed a lot that day.”
Simon was smiling, looking at him fondly. "It’s beautiful, Wille. I wish I had the chance to meet Erik.”
Wilhlem shook his head. "I… I don’t know what he would have thought about us," he admitted. "I don’t even know if I can forgive him, for what he did at Hillerska.” He knew what Simon thought about that, and he should agree with him, he knew Erik wasn’t the only one putting those first-year students in that situation, but he kept thinking about what would have happened if he had been there with those first-year students. What if he and Simon were there and what if they got a boner and what if his brother would have been the one to beat them up?
"He apologized," this time Sara spoke, Felice silently killing her with her eyes: they weren’t supposed to hear that conversation. But still, they were all sitting on the same towel on the beach, and Sara wasn’t used to staying silent. "When the news got out, August told me everything," she said, a bit of resentment in her voice: Simon wasn’t sure if it was towards her ex-boyfriend's traumas or herself, for being with him in the first place. "He told me they beat up Nils pretty bad and that when he tried to stick up for him they assumed they were a couple and beat him up as well.”
Wille flinched at the image he was seeing in his mind. Why everyone was so messed up in that fucking school?
"Erik did beat them up, I’m not denying that," she said. "But the day after he apologized to the both of them, August said he was wrecked, as if he cried the whole night.”
Wilhelm could never picture his brother crying himself to sleep, it wasn’t something Erik was used to. Or was he? His brother was the one cuddling him when those things happened to him. Who was the one in charge of supporting Erik? Did he even deserve support in that situation?
"He promised he would support them from that day on, that every trouble they had he would fix it, that they could rely on him," she eventually added. "And August said he did that, he was a great friend to him.”
"But why didn’t he tell Wille everything as it was then? Why did he tell only the bad stuff?" Simon asked, he wasn’t sure if he could believe his sister, not when August was involved.
"Because he wanted Wille to suffer," Felice said, as simple as it was. "He is not a good person.”
"I don’t agree with that.”
To everyone’s surprise, that sentence didn’t come from Sara. To everyone's surprise, Wille had eventually forgiven his cousin. “He made some very poor choices, but he is only a messed up kid, just like me.”
Simon, on the other hand, rolled his eyes: if he was sure about something, it was that he would never be able to forgive August. He ruined their lives just because he was pissed at Wille, he stole the most precious moment of his life, something as sacred and intimate as their first time, and simply got to get away with it, even protected by the crown. Throughout all of that, Wille was left alone, without his boyfriend, without Erik, and mostly, without his parents who preferred to back up the one who caused the problem to begin with.
Every time Simon thought back about that Christmas break he could only picture Wille being miserable on his own - he also went on a guilt trip himself several times in his mind, even though he knew he couldn’t be there for Wille when he felt so betrayed. And on top of everything, one day, August would get to be king, and no one would care that he ruined two kids who didn’t do anything wrong, two kids who just happened to fall in love with each other.
"Anyway," Sara said, changing the subject, almost as if she was reading his brother’s mind. "Erik would have loved Simon, Wille, he would have loved how you two made each other happy. It took me a while to realize that, but I see how good you two are together now.”
"He kind of knew about you, anyway,” Wille whispered, hoping to share that intimate confession with his boyfriend and no one else. He was openly admitting he talked about Simon to his brother before almost anything happened. He felt vulnerable, to say the least.
"What? Why didn’t you tell me before?" Simon snapped: he wasn’t angry, of course, just very surprised.
Wilhelm’s cheeks were now increasingly red. "I told him about someone I was seeing before Parent’s Weekend. And he didn’t use any pronouns, he didn’t assume it was a girl. He genuinely wanted to know who stole his little brother’s heart.”
Simon's eyes widened, understanding not only that Wille actually felt so ready to talk to his brother about his same-sex crush, but it also made him wonder how everything could have gone differently if Wille had Erik to rely on.
“I love you,” he whispered, hoping that those three words could sum up all the feelings and thoughts he dealt with in his mind.
“I love you too,” Wille responded, without missing a bit. He was making sure to never leave words unspoken. Not the meaningful ones at least. “Thank you, Simon.”
As an answer, the curly shorter boy looked at him with a questioning smile.
“Thank you for not giving up on me.”
“I never gave up on you, not a single minute,” Simon immediately added.
Wille smiled. He took a quick peek at their entwined fingers, feeling incredibly at peace. He was slowly healing, he was slowly emptying his mind, and Simon was filling it with love and affection.
He would have been okay. They would have been alright.