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"Boo."
The hand on his shoulder makes Wille whip around and he tries so hard not to scream that he almost swallows his tongue. It's a few seconds before he realises that it's—
"Simon," he breathes. Then, in a scolding whisper, adds: "What the fuck are you doing?"
Simon giggles—the audacity! But Wille can't stay mad at him for long. Or, who is he kidding, at all.
"You jumped so hard." Simon covers his mouth with his hand to stifle the laughter. "You're such a scaredy cat."
Wille glares at him, but reaches down a hand, grabs his wrist and tugs him along. "You were supposed to come in the front door," he murmurs, striding down the corridor. "I left it unlocked for you."
"I know," Simon whispers back. "But I tried the side door on my way past and it opened. I figured I was less likely to get caught that way."
Begrudgingly, Wille has to admit that Simon is probably right.
"Besides, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to scare you. Seriously, Wille, you're so tightly wound!"
Wille doesn't asnwer immediately, just drags Simon along the last few steps to his room, tugs open the door, and bundles them both inside before shutting the door.
"I'm tightly wound because I'm trying to sneak my boyfriend in when we've been explicitly forbidden from having overnight guests."
"Hmm," Simon says, stepping close to Wille and looping his hands round his neck. "'Boyfriend'. I'm still not sure I'm used to that."
Heat rises to Wille's cheeks. Because he isn't either, but it feels so good calling Simon his boyfriend—a title they only agreed on the previous week when Sara had made some comment and they both just blinked at each other and then, through lots of blushing and smiling, agreed that she was probably right.
"Boyfriend," Wille murmurs again, this time against Simon's lips.
Simon hums and presses their lips fully together, sending a familiar thrill down Wille's spine as he starts walking them determinedly towards the bed, pushing Simon's jacket off in the process.
With a small squeak, Simon falls onto the mattress, dragging Wille down with him in a tangle of limbs and elbows and giggles. "Shh!" Wille says, without much heat. "You'll wake everyone up!"
"I don't care," Simon says, peppering kisses on the underside of Wille's jaw.
"Yes you do," Wille replies, running his palm down Simon's side to find the edge of his hoodie.
"I'm already not allowed to be here," Simon says, kissing back up to Wille's lips and placing several quick kisses there. "What difference does it make?"
"They'll… tighten… the rules," Wille says between kisses, sneaking his hand under Simon's hoodie and splaying a palm over his stomach. "We'll… have no chance… sneaking you in."
"Hmm…" Simon mumbles, gasping a little as Wille's hand moves further up. "Then we'll have to start using the window."
"Someone will catch you." Wille detaches his mouth just long enough to get Simon's hoodie over his head and then leans back as Simon tugs off his own t-shirt before reaching up to help Wille.
"No they won't. I'm sneaky."
When they resettle, skin on skin, it takes a moment for Wille to remember what Simon is talking about.
"You're not sneaky," he mumbles, nudging their noses together.
"Yes I am." Simon leans up and kisses Wille more deeply. "I crept up on you didn't I?"
Wille groans into Simon's mouth—partly mortification, partly arousal. "I was tense."
"You're always tense." Simon's hands skim down Wille's back and make it to his waistband where he barely hesitates before slipping his hands inside.
A noise makes it out of Wille's mouth and Simon smiles against his lips.
"Let's see if we can do something about that, shall we?"
And, sure, maybe Wille is tense and tightly wound. But luckily he has a boyfriend who knows exactly how to unravel him.