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“You’re staring again.”
Wilhelm needs to blink multiple times before he’s able to tear his eyes away from the ever angelic creature only a few meters away from him. He immediately feels his cheeks heat up as he meets the unimpressed gaze of his friend Felice, who, after years of knowing him, is pretty used to and not at all surprised by his antics.
“I wasn’t staring,” he defends himself, knowing full well how useless it is for him to do so.
He had, as a matter of fact, been staring again, just like he had been the first time Felice had pointed it out not even ten minutes ago. He knows it, Felice knows it – to be fair, at this point he’s convinced that everyone on campus just knows it.
It’s not like he’s been doing a great job hiding the hopeless crush he’s developed for Simon, the nice and cute barista of his favorite café on campus. Also, he may or may not have arbitrarily decided that this is his favorite café solely based on the fact that it’s the one Simon works at, but to keep a shred of dignity he’s going to pretend it’s because of the very average pastries and the cozy – read: cramped – space.
The thing is, Wilhelm can’t say he’s had many proper crushes in his twenty-one years of life: he normally sees someone, thinks they’re cute, and then goes on with his day never to think about that person again if not in passing. This is probably the reason why, the rare times he develops real crushes, he suddenly loses all sense of normalcy and decency and starts acting like a complete fool.
Which, of course, includes gawking at the pretty boy currently smiling that lovely smile of his as he serves a freshly made cup of coffee to the customer who just ordered one.
“This is getting ridiculous.” His friend’s voice is what makes Wilhelm realize that he’d gone back to staring – again. “Just go and talk to him.”
“What? No,” Wilhelm shrieks, scoffing as he grabs his cup to take a sip of his by now cold cappuccino, “absolutely not.”
“Why not?” Felice insists, exasperation lacing the simple question. “Maddie has a few classes with him, and she said that he’s very nice.”
“Oh, I know he is,” Wilhelm concurs far too quickly, “the first time I came in here he–”
“–gave you a towel so that you could dry yourself up because you had just been caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella,” his friend finishes the sentence for him, “I know. You told me this same story about a hundred and fifty-seven times.”
It’s true, he has recounted the events of that fateful day of about six months ago to her – and to anyone who would listen, really – many times before. It’s just that, in a way, telling that story allows him to relive it, too: he gets to think again about the way Simon had smiled so invitingly as he welcomed him in the almost empty café, and about his kind eyes as he offered him a clean towel when he’d noticed that Wilhelm was soaked from head to toe; he gets to remember how Simon had made sure to have a steaming cup of tea ready for him on the counter when he got back from the toilet after drying himself up as best as he could, and also how he’d told him, “It’s on me,” when Wilhelm had wanted to pay for it.
They hadn’t even talked that much, that day, but to Wilhelm it still felt like a life-altering experience. Like one of those moments you look back on years later and think: That was the moment everything changed.
Which is kind of ironic, considering that nothing really changed nor happened since.
“Have you even talked to him again after that day?” Felice asks. Before Wilhelm can reply, his friend specifies, “I’m not talking about ordering your cappuccino or whatever. Like, have you ever had an actual conversation with him?”
Given the borderline obsession Wilhelm has developed for the guy, he feels his ears become a little too hot as he admits, “Not really.”
Felice doesn’t even seem surprised by his answer as she sighs. “Why?”
“Because, I mean–” Wilhelm glances in Simon’s direction and lets out a groan that seems to come directly from his soul. “Have you seen him? What would even be the point?”
Simon is, objectively, extremely gorgeous. Wilhelm’s pretty sure his facial bone structure has been sculpted by God himself, and the curls on his head have been cut directly from cherubs and then dipped into pools of dark chocolate. He has long lashes that fan over his cheeks every time he blinks, a little scar next to his mouth that Wilhelm always wishes he could brush with his thumb and ask him how it got there, and don’t even get him started on those naturally rosy, plump lips that just beg to be kissed every second of every day.
Apart from all that, though, Simon also has the most mesmerizing, kind brown eyes Wilhelm has ever seen. He’s found himself getting lost in them multiple times over the past few months while simply placing his order, and he’s pretty sure they’re the main reason why, every time he’s standing right in front of him, he just seems to be unable to act like a functioning human being and hold a normal conversation.
“First of all, you’re very handsome too. Don’t sell yourself short,” Felice scolds him good-naturedly. “Second of all, there doesn’t need to be a point to befriend him. Quite frankly, Wille – how do you even know you truly like him if you don’t talk to him?”
Wilhelm huffs, but doesn’t reply right away. How can he explain to her that he just knows without sounding like he’s completely lost his marbles? How does he tell her that he spends way too much time checking his socials and watching him interact with customers and coworkers in this exact café that, by now, he feels like he knows him at least a little bit, without her thinking he’s a stalker with parasocial tendencies?
“I don’t want to be one of those people who bother other people while they’re working,” is the only thing Wilhelm says eventually, “I’m sure he’s hit on all the time, it must be annoying for him.”
“Wille, Simon is indeed very pretty, but I doubt people come here specifically to flirt with him,” Felice retorts. “Most students that visit these cafés on campus do it to study, or for a quick meal before going back to class. No one does it to get laid or find a partner.”
Wilhelm must admit that she does have a point.
However, her words also make him realize that Simon probably considers him a weirdo, since he not only visits the café nearly every day and stays here for hours on end, but sometimes he doesn’t even bother carrying his books or laptop with him to pretend he’s here to study and not to gawk at the pretty barista every chance he gets.
“Great, that means that he one hundred percent knows I’m obsessed with him since I’m always here,” Wilhelm says with a joking intonation, but with serious concern making his insides twist, “all the more reason never to speak to him again.”
Felice’s eyes go wide at the fact that what should’ve been a reassuring speech had had the complete opposite effect. “That’s not what I–”
“It’s okay, Fel,” he cuts her off mid-explanation, “he makes me nervous anyway, and you know how I get when I’m nervous around people. I’d end up doing or saying something embarrassing and then proceed to hate myself for it for the rest of my life.”
“You’re being dramatic, now,” she deadpans. “I will admit that you can be a little awkward sometimes, but you’re more than capable of holding a simple conversation with anyone – even someone you have an awfully big crush on.”
She adds that last part after Wilhelm opens his mouth to retort, shutting down his objection before it can even make it past his lips.
Deep down, Wilhelm knows that Felice is once again right. He doesn’t consider himself to be shy, per se, and he can actually be very chatty and – dare he say – funny around people he’s comfortable with. Still, there’s something about Simon that automatically activates his fight or flight response, making him hyper-aware of every single movement and physiological change of his body and rendering him unable to think clearly every time he’s around him. It’s an absolutely ridiculous and disproportionate reaction when all Simon normally says to him is, “Hi, what can I get you today?”, but he has no idea how to change or manage that.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out if I ever meet him when he’s not working,” he says eventually, more to please Felice than because he actually believes it.
Because that’s the other thing: Simon basically doesn’t seem to exist outside of this café. Wilhelm knows he studies in this university and they actually have a couple of friends in common, but he almost never manages to see him out and about on campus or anywhere else, really – which is one of the reasons why he comes here as often as he does.
Felice sighs and shakes her head disapprovingly, but decides to stop pressing him at least for today.
As she starts complaining about how boring one of the classes she’s taking this semester is, Wilhelm’s gaze fleetingly moves one more time in the direction of the counter and his heart instantly skips a beat as he’s immediately met with Simon’s brown eyes looking directly at him: he’s waiting for the person he just served a pastry to to swipe their card, but he still takes a moment to warmly smile at Wilhelm before focusing back on them.
That simple gesture makes Wilhelm’s entire day.
⊷⋆⊶
Wilhelm following Simon on Instagram had happened totally on accident.
He had been lying in his bed one night, going through Simon’s profile like he so often did since he first found it by going through Maddie’s followings, and he had accidentally clicked on the “follow” button while going from the reels back to the photo grid. As soon as he’d realized what he’d done, he’d literally jumped out of bed and started pacing around his room while letting out a litany of, “No, no, no, fuck, no, please, no,” that had obviously done absolutely nothing to resolve the problem.
He’d learned through a quick Google search that unfollowing him would be useless, since he would’ve already received the notification anyway unless he had them turned off for the app – which was pretty unlikely – and he’d also briefly considered sending him a message to apologize and tell him that he’d mistaken him for someone else.
Just when he’d started considering jumping off the window to avoid the humiliation that would inevitably come with both – terrible – ideas, a notification telling him that Simon had followed him back had appeared on his screen making him stop dead in his tracks. He’d stared at it for way longer than necessary, then, once it had clicked in his head that Simon had followed him back, he’d immediately gone on his own profile to see what he would find there – as if he hadn’t been the one to post on it in the first place.
After the initial shock had died down a little bit and his body had started to cool down, he’d realized that he and Simon following each other meant that he could now finally, finally watch his stories, too. Simon posted them quite frequently, at least one every couple of days, but during his nightly stalking sessions Wilhelm had always stopped himself from clicking on them because he knew he couldn’t do that without Simon finding out – or without using a fake account, which he had considered doing for all of three seconds before deciding that that would be going a little too far.
Now, Wilhelm religiously watches all of Simon’s Instagram stories soon after he posts them. Not once, of course, but multiple times each.
He usually shares random stuff, like a pretty sunset, some new coffee design he’s taught himself how to make, messy notes scattered on his desk or a friend’s football game, and even though Wilhelm wishes he would post himself a little more, every single one of those stories makes him so incredibly happy even just because they give him a glimpse into Simon’s everyday life. Also, in the past couple of weeks Simon has, for some reason, started posting a little more frequently, so Wilhelm can’t really complain at all.
Since his favorite pastime is keeping up with Simon’s social media updates, Wilhelm feels like he should have known a little bit earlier that he would be here today.
It’s Saturday, Maddie is playing an amateur volleyball match in the sports facility on campus with some classmates and, since someone who was supposed to play came down with a fever, she asked Wilhelm to replace them last minute. Felice is joining them too, but only to watch the match from the sidelines.
It’s a totally fateful coincidence the fact that, right as the three of them are entering the sports center, Wilhelm casually clicks on Simon’s latest Instagram story only to stop dead in his tracks as he sees a picture of a freshly set up volleyball net – the exact same one Wilhelm’s eyes land on as soon as he looks up from his phone.
“He’s here,” he blurts out on instinct, more to himself than to anybody else.
Felice is however close enough to hear him, so she turns to look at him confusedly. “Who’s here?”
“Simon,” he says, his breathing already starting to quicken, “he posted a story. He’s here.”
“Simon Eriksson? Oh, yeah,” Maddie says far too casually, a huge contrast with Wilhelm’s currently distressed state, “he’s playing too. He’s very good, actually.”
“Maddie,” Wilhelm says in the calmest tone he can muster in that moment, “dear, sweet, adorably innocent Maddie. Don’t you think you should’ve mentioned that?”
Maddie is one of his closest friends, so of course she knows all about his godforsaken crush. She may or may not have spent an entire evening comforting him after telling him all about Simon’s star sign and why it isn’t really compatible with Wilhelm’s, since he’s a Gemini while Simon is a Cancer, and she’d also asked him to walk her to class a couple of times so that he could casually run into Simon there and say hi – an offer Wilhelm had always turned down simply because he’s a fucking coward at heart.
And, yes – maybe Wilhelm should’ve considered the possibility of Simon being here since he is, as a matter of fact, a classmate of Maddie’s, but he had also thought that, if that were the case, Maddie would’ve just given him a heads up.
Because there is literally no reason why she would think blindsiding him like this would be a good idea. In fact, she should’ve known it would be a terrible idea instead, and that it would only cause Wilhelm to start sweating and his thoughts to run a million miles per hour.
Which is exactly what is happening right now.
“Breathe, Wille,” Felice says softly, making him realize that he is, in fact, holding his breath. As he inhales slowly and exhales the same way, she links her arm with his. “You’re evil for this, Maddie.”
The jaw of the girl in front of them drops in offense. “I didn’t think it was this bad!” she justifies herself, pointing at Wilhelm and receiving an immediate glare from Felice. Huffing, Maddie then lowers her arm and says, “I’m sorry, okay? I promise I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You can leave, if you want, I’ll just come up with an excuse.”
Wilhelm’s first instinct is to say, “Yes, I’ll get the hell out of here right now,” but he takes another deep breath and tries to calm his racing thoughts instead.
This could be a good opportunity to exchange a few words with Simon, right? After all they’re here to play volleyball, which means that Wilhelm won’t have many opportunities to embarrass himself – not with words, at least. He considers himself to be pretty decent at volleyball, but with Simon in the same room – God forbid, possibly on the same team – he doesn’t feel as confident about his abilities as he would in any other situation.
Still, maybe Wilhelm could finally officially introduce himself to him, which is something that, as crazy as it sounds, he hasn’t done yet. It would really seem like nothing much, but Wilhelm knows that it would actually make his entire week, if not his entire month because he’s just pathetic like that.
“No, I want to play,” he declares then before he can think better of it.
“Are you sure?” Felice asks.
“It’s fine,” he reassures her, putting on a smile as if to boost his own confidence a little bit, “maybe we won’t even run into him before the game starts, right?”
They, of course, run into Simon as soon as they take a couple of steps farther into the venue.
Wilhelm feels like he’s living the moment his eyes first land on him in slow motion, with everything around him suddenly losing focus and the boy remaining the only thing he can see clearly. He’s wearing a red t-shirt and black shorts, which is a type of outfit Wilhelm has never seen him in and that immediately makes his blood pressure spike; it takes a lot more effort than it should for Wilhelm to realize that he’s not alone, but he’s surrounded by people he distantly recognizes as Maddie’s uni friends.
“Your favorite classmate has arrived!” his friend announces herself loudly, skipping towards the group that immediately welcomes her enthusiastically. “I brought in reinforcements! This is Felice, she’s not going to play, but she came anyway because she had nothing better to do.”
“This is not true, I’m here to cheer all of you on,” Felice says with a fake glare directed at Maddie, then smiles brightly at the rest of the group. “Hello guys, nice to meet you!”
A chorus of greetings comes her way, but it is soon interrupted by Maddie pointing her arm in Wilhelm’s direction. “He’s the one who is going to take Lukas’ place. This is–”
“Wille!” Simon exclaims before Maddie can finish her introduction, making Wilhelm whip his head in his direction and his heart stop for a second in his chest. When he doesn’t say anything, momentarily too stunned to voice a single word, the large, friendly smile the other is currently showing doesn’t falter. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. How are you?”
Wilhelm suddenly feels like he’s going to pass out.
Because, did Simon just say that it’s nice to see him? Like, it’s nice to see Wille?
Does Simon really know his nickname?
If Wilhelm’s brain had been working somewhat normally, he would’ve realized that this is not such shocking piece of information. After all, Wilhelm’s display name on Instagram is “Wille”, so it makes sense for Simon to know his damn nickname, at the very least.
But Wilhelm’s brain isn’t working normally at all, right now, so this simple discovery makes it short-circuit.
“I– uhm–” He stops and clears his throat, doing his best not to think about how his cheeks currently feel like they’re on fire. “Hi– yeah. It’s me, I’m– me. Wille. Hi.”
Wilhelm wants to disappear. He wishes the ground would just swallow him whole and save him the embarrassment of this moment, in which a deafening silence has fallen in their corner of the sports center as a result of his awkward response to a very simple and polite greeting.
“Alright, let’s do some stretching!” Maddie luckily intervenes, rapidly diffusing the weird atmosphere as she claps her hands and starts barking out orders.
The chatting in the group resumes, but Wilhelm is momentarily distracted by Felice touching his arm and looking at him with pure sympathy in her eyes before she walks away to sit on a bench near the court. Trying his best to shake off the feeling of having just made a very bad first impression on everyone – Simon included – Wilhelm takes a deep breath and then sidles up to Maddie, who immediately claps him on the shoulder and forces him to follow her in running a few laps around the court.
The physical exercise helps clear Wilhelm’s head a little bit, and Maddie including him in conversations with her friends gives him a chance to prove to them that, in normal situations, he can do a good enough job socializing, thank you very much.
His momentary state of relaxation abruptly comes to an end when, while he’s sitting on the PVC flooring peacefully finishing his stretching, Simon suddenly plops down right next to him like it’s absolutely normal for him to do so.
“Hey,” he says, looking at Wilhelm with gentle eyes and an amiable smile, “I haven’t seen you at the café this past week. Did you find another place you like more or something?”
At this point, Wilhelm is pretty sure that he’s either dreaming or that he somehow ended up in some sort of simulation, because – did Simon really notice him not going to the café the entire week?
It had been extremely difficult for Wilhelm to stay away from it, but after the conversation he’d had with Felice, he had decided that he couldn’t keep showing up there every single day or Simon would sooner or later call the cops on him to file a restraining order.
He definitely hadn’t expected Simon to notice, even less to directly question him about it.
“Oh, ehm–” He lets out a short laugh, clearing his throat to buy himself a few more seconds. “No, I just– I’ve been busy. Studying and… doing stuff,” he says awkwardly. Then, he unnecessarily feels the need to add, “but I still love the café, it’s my favorite. The sandwiches you guys make are very good.”
Simon’s lips pucker as if he’s trying to stop his smile from becoming larger than it already is, but he eventually succumbs to a chuckle. “I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says, leaning towards Wilhelm as he conspiratorially lowers his voice, “those are pre-packaged, we simply take them out when someone orders them and put them on a plate to make them look more appetizing.”
Wilhelm blinks, feeling his cheeks heat up for having, once again, made a fool of himself. “So that’s why they taste exactly like the ones from the Pressbyrån.”
The boy next to him bites down on his lower lip, and Wilhelm has to stop his eyes from dropping to the lower half of his face. “Well, yeah. Did you think I was the one making them?”
“I mean, now that I think about it, they don’t really look handmade,” he admits, “unless you were hiding in the back stacking ingredients one on top of the other and cutting the edges off to make them look perfect.”
“Mmm,” Simon hums, failing to hide a grin, “sounds like something very convenient to do during rush hour.”
“To be fair, opening all the sandwiches and putting them into plates instead of handing them out in their packages doesn’t sound convenient, either.”
At that, Simon suddenly throws his head back and lets out a glorious laugh.
It’s glorious because Wilhelm has never heard nor seen Simon laugh before, and it’s one of the best things that has ever happened to him. As if the fact that that sound is, without a doubt, the most melodious one he's ever heard is not enough already, Simon is also a sight to behold with his eyes shut, crinkles marking their corners and mouth open to show white, straight teeth that Wilhelm finds attractive just like he does any other part of him.
And the thing is, what Wilhelm had said to cause that laugh hadn’t even been funny at all, but even the possibility that Simon is actually laughing at him for being an idiot doesn’t tamp down the enthusiasm caused by the knowledge of being the one who’s making him laugh like that. On the contrary, he decides in that moment that he would gladly continue being an idiot in the hope to see him laugh again – and again, and again.
“I mean, you’re not wrong,” Simon concedes eventually, “I need to have a chat with my manager.”
He’s still smiling so nicely, so sweetly, that Wilhelm convinces himself that there’s no way he’s making fun of him unless he secretly is a very good actor. It’s probably that realization that makes him finally relax enough to show the first, proper and real, smile he’s put on since he learned that Simon would be here today.
“Yeah, you should do that,” he teases him then, “and while you’re at it, please also tell them to invest in a better coffee machine that doesn’t make the coffee taste burnt.”
Simon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Wilhelm’s playful dig. “Why do you keep ordering it if it is so bad, then?”
Because you’re the one making it, would be the most honest answer, but Wilhelm is not brave enough to say the words out loud. Coming up with something else to say turns out to be way more difficult than anticipated, though, so he just ends up opening his mouth multiple times without a single word coming out of it, his cheeks feeling warmer and warmer with every second that goes by.
Luckily, that’s the moment Maddie claps her hands to catch everyone’s attention once more. “Alright, let’s split into two teams so we can start playing!” she commands loudly, urging everyone to stand up.
“Let’s not make her wait or I’m sure she will make us run a few more laps as a punishment,” Simon jokes, relieving Wilhelm’s nervousness enough to make him snort. He then stands up and, a second later, offers a hand to Wilhelm to help him do the same. “Come on.”
Wilhelm doesn’t immediately reach for his hand, not because he doesn’t want to get up or because he doesn’t believe that Maddie would really make them run laps, but because the thought of touching Simon for the first time momentarily disrupts the neuronal circuits in his brain responsible for carrying out that simple movement.
He forces himself to regain focus and stop acting like a dumbass soon enough, though, reaching up and grabbing Simon’s hand as he stands up – all the while trying his best not to think about how smooth and soft and so much smaller than his Simon’s hand is. “Thanks,” he says with voice barely higher than a murmur, a nice, warm feeling filling his chest as he realizes that Simon is suddenly standing closer than he’s ever been.
“No problem,” Simon says, smiling sweetly up at him before he turns to join the rest of the group as if he didn’t just make Wilhelm’s heart work twice as hard as normal.
They end up on the same team – which, if the sneaky little smirk Maddie sends his way is anything to go by, Wilhelm is pretty sure is not a simple coincidence. Still, from the moment they start playing, he puts his dumb feelings on hold for a while and lets his competitive side take over.
Just like Maddie anticipated, Simon is very good: he plays as a setter in the back zone, but he’s also not afraid of diving for the ball and he’s quick enough on his feet to be able to easily cover for someone else that is momentarily not in position; Wilhelm is one of the tallest of their team and therefore plays in the front zone as a hitter and blocker, which means that he’s also very often on the receiving end of Simon setting the ball for him and the other attackers.
During the first half of the first set, both sides of the net mainly try to find their place and role in the respective teams, so the game is still cautious and a little messy; soon, though, everyone starts becoming more comfortable on court and the intensity increases, which is something that definitely helps Wilhelm remain focused even when Simon calls his name to warn him about an incoming ball or, in a couple of occasions, when he high-fives him after a point.
Their team ends up winning the first set but losing the second one, bringing the game to a deciding third set. By that time, Wilhelm is sweaty and his muscles are starting to protest against all the physical exercise they’re not really used to; still, his competitive side is in full swing and he has no intention of giving up anytime soon – especially not when the score of the two teams is as close as it is right now.
That is, until he accidentally bumps into Simon as he’s walking backwards with his eyes on the ball currently in the air and makes the rookie mistake of turning around to check on him for just a second – which is, however, enough to make him completely lose sight of the ball that ends up hitting him square in the face.
Wilhelm falls to the floor before he can even understand what’s going on, the sharp pain immediately causing him to groan in agony and cover his face with his hands. Distantly, his mind registers someone dropping to the floor next to him and carefully touching his shoulder.
“Oh my God, are you okay?!” asks Simon, his voice sounding much more agitated than Wilhelm has ever heard it. “I’m so sorry, I had my eyes on the ball and I didn’t see you were going for it too–”
Wilhelm shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
“–and I just kept walking, but I should’ve called it instead of– Oh God, Wille, you’re bleeding–”
Simon keeps going, his voice more frantic with each word he pronounces, until someone else interrupts him.
“Simon, move,” Felice says in an assertive tone, the nursing student in her immediately taking over as she crouches down next to Wilhelm. “Let me see.”
She gently pulls his hands away from his face, and Wilhelm winces as he opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is blood covering his palms. What makes him internally curse, though, is seeing Simon’s worried and guilty face right next to Felice’s.
“I’m really sorry,” Simon repeats, a frown etched on his forehead, “I really didn’t mean to–”
“It’s okay, Simon,” Wilhelm mumbles, forcing himself to keep a neutral face even though his nose is hurting like hell, “it’s not your fault, I should’ve–”
“We’re going to discuss whose fault it was another time,” Felice intervenes, grabbing his arm, “now let’s go get you cleaned up and get you some ice.”
“No, wait,” Wilhelm stops her as she tries to pull him up, “the game is not over–”
“It is for you,” Maddie intervenes from where she’s watching the scene from the other side of the net, “go with Felice.”
Wilhelm wants to protest some more, but Felice shushes him and, together with Simon, helps him stand up. It’s only then that he notices all the eyes trained on him, and he can’t help but feel extremely embarrassed thinking about how everyone just saw him getting hit in the face by a ball.
Simon just saw him getting hit in the face by a ball. Simon saw him covered in blood.
Just when Wilhelm had started to loosen up a little bit, he had to go and humiliate himself like that.
He fights against the exasperated groan building and building in his throat as long as he physically can, but once he’s alone with Felice in a small room in which the first aid supplies are stored, sitting on a table while she cleans him up and then gives him a ice pack to put on his swollen nose, he eventually tilts his head back and lets it out towards the ceiling.
“Why do I have to be like this?” he explodes, frustration reaching its peak. “Why can’t I be cool and nonchalant and mysterious like everybody else can? The one time I truly like someone, all I can do in front of them is act like an idiot and embarrass myself.”
Felice sighs. “It was an accident–”
“If he thought I was a weirdo and a stalker before, after today he will think I’m a weirdo, a stalker and a fucking loser,” Wilhelm presses on, letting out an unamused laugh. “Oh, and that I can’t see a ball coming straight towards my face.”
“You’re being ridiculous–”
“Not to mention the fact that he greeted me so nicely, like we’ve been friends for ages, and all I’ve been able to do is stare back a him unable to form a single coherent sentence.” He runs a hand through his sweaty hair with a nervous huff, distantly noticing how Felice has given up comforting him and is now simply letting him rant. “Today is one of the very few occasions I get to see him out of that damn café, and instead of taking that opportunity to spend some time with him and convince him that we’d be so good together, I just go and make a complete fool out of myself.”
As he pauses his breakdown to catch a breath, Felice says, “Are you really that sure that you would be good together?”
Wilhelm lowers the ice pack as he looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in defeat. “You don’t understand, Fel. I can see it so clearly in my head.” He meets her eyes again, not even caring about the sympathy painted all over her face. “I can see us going on cute coffee dates, or having a picnic by the lake over the weekend. I can see me walking him to class or waiting for him to finish his shift at the café so that we can go to the movies, or us studying together in my room or eating take out in his. And maybe I’m wrong and the stars are right and we’re not actually made for each other, but there’s something in me that is one hundred percent sure that we are and I just wish I was brave enough to prove it.”
He knows he’s being dramatic, but Felice is more than used to him losing his mind over things not going the way he wished they would, so she’s by now also an expert at handling him in these situations. Still, instead of immediately deescalating his meltdown, she frowns and asks, “What do you mean, ‘the stars are right’?”
Wilhelm feels his cheeks heat up a little bit, looking down at the ice pack in his hands as he explains, “I’m a Gemini, and he’s a Cancer. Our star signs are not very compatible.”
Felice snorts. “How do you even know he’s a Cancer?”
“There’s a picture of his birthday cake from last year on his Instagram. I just assumed he posted it on his actual birthday.”
His friend opens his mouth to say something, but it’s another voice that fills the room making both Wilhelm and Felice’s heads whip in the direction of the door.
“Actually, last year I celebrated my birthday a couple of days early because my mom and sister came to visit. I’m a Leo, not a Cancer.” Wilhelm feels his blood turn colder than the ice pack in his hands as he spots Simon leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a small smile on his lips, which however quickly disappears as he takes in Wilhelm’s stunned expression. “Wait, you were talking about me and those were not just an awful lot of coincidences, right?”
All of a sudden, sounds and voices become muffled for Wilhelm and the only thing he can clearly hear is the erratic beating of his heart echoing around his head. Some parts of him are aware of Felice’s hand touching his arm and of the ice pack falling to the floor with a thud, but he doesn’t really register any of that: the only thing he’s truly aware of, is how the softness and relaxation that had marked Simon’s face when he’d first looked at him have now been replaced by confusion and concern.
And, of course, the fact that he’s just completely, terrifyingly, humiliated himself in front of Simon in the worst possible way.
Before he even knows what he’s doing, he slides off the table he had been sitting on and runs past him and out of the small room, not turning around when he hears both Felice and Simon call after him.
⊷⋆⊶
Wilhelm regrets leaving the sports center the way he did the exact moment his brain starts to function somewhat normally again.
Felice gives up trying to reach him when he doesn’t answer a few of her calls, instead she simply texts him that his team won the game and that she told the others that he left early because of a headache. She didn’t mention what happened with Simon, nor what he said or did after Wilhelm abruptly left, at all, which is something that he’s grateful for: he feels embarrassed enough for what he said and the way he left, so the last thing he needs is having the confirmation that Simon is now fully convinced that he’s not only a weirdo, a stalker and a fucking loser, but also a coward unable to face him after saying all those things about him.
Still, he only allows himself to wallow in self-pity for a couple of days before he decides that he needs to talk to him. He is, in fact, starting to accept that whatever small chance he thought he had before has been completely disintegrated by the way he behaved on Saturday, so at this point he doesn’t really have anything to lose. He might as well lay all his cards on the table and walk away with a little bit of dignity still intact.
For this reason, once his Tuesday classes are over, he trudges to the same café he’s spent countless hours in in the past six months with his heart thundering against his ribcage. He never comes here on Tuesdays because his afternoon classes overlap with Simon’s shift, so by the time he’s done with them the café is either closed or about to.
Today, though, he wants to catch Simon at the end of his shift so as not to disturb him while he’s working. When he gets there, the café is, in fact, empty and Simon is wiping down the tables; Wilhelm considers waiting outside until he’s done, but eventually takes a deep breath and just pushes the door open.
“I’m sorry, we’re closed,” Simon says immediately, not turning around as he finishes cleaning one of the tables.
Wilhelm lets the door fall shut behind him, taking another deep breath. “I know.”
Simon whips his head around as he recognizes his voice, blinking rapidly before fully turning to face him. “Hi,” he greets him, a smile instantly curving his full lips, “I didn’t expect to see you today. You never come here on Tuesdays.”
The fact that he knows that it’s unusual for him to be here today catches Wilhelm off guard. Still, he tries his best to remain focused and not let his thoughts derail after less than one minute spent in his presence.
“Yeah, uhm, I–” He clears his throat, then forces himself to blurt out, in one single breath, “I was actually hoping we could talk.”
Any other person would probably be weirded out or at the very least confused by that sudden request, but Simon being Simon, he keeps smiling at him with much more grace than he deserves. He doesn’t seem put off at all by the fact that Wilhelm showed up to his workplace to ask him to talk – not even when the last time they’d seen each other he’d acted like a total dumbass.
“Yeah, sure,” he simply agrees with a nod of his head, “just let me finish closing up and we can go.”
Ten minutes later, Wilhelm is following Simon out of the café and waiting for him to lock the door before the two of them start walking side by side. It’s the beginning of May and the cherries are in full bloom, coloring the campus of a mix of green and pink that Wilhelm would almost describe as romantic, if he wasn’t so nervous about being alone with Simon – upon his own request – for the first time.
“How’s your nose?” Simon starts, breaking the momentary silence accompanying them.
Wilhelm feels his eyes on him but keeps his gaze pointed ahead of them, still embarrassed about the events of a few days prior. “Good,” he replies quietly, “it’s not broken, just… a little bit swollen still.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Simon nod. “That’s good. That it’s not broken, I mean, not that it’s still swollen.”
Wilhelm snorts at the clarification. “Yeah.”
A short silence falls between them again. Before Wilhelm can put his thoughts in order enough to start speaking, Simon precedes him.
“Before you say whatever it is that you want to say, I want to apologize,” he blurts out, making Wilhelm finally turn to look him.
He has his hands shoved inside the pockets of his olive green jacket, and his curls are slightly frizzy after hours spent making mostly hot beverages. Walking beside him and with the cherry trees as a backdrop to his handsome features, Wilhelm can’t help but think that he looks even more angelic than he normally does.
“Apologize for what?” he asks when his mind processes what the other just said.
“For eavesdropping your conversation with Felice,” Simon replies, for the first time that day looking more solemn and seriously apologetic, “I promise it wasn’t my intention. I came looking for you after the game to check how you were doing and just ended up… hearing you.”
Wilhelm feels his cheeks heat up at the reminder that yes, Simon had been an unexpected onlooker to his meltdown.
Looking down at the gravel path to hide his most likely colored cheeks to the best of his ability, he says, “It’s okay, Simon. I…” He licks his lips in a nervous gesture, then lets out a trembling breath. “I’m the one who should apologize. For leaving the way I did.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Simon stop and sit on a bench on the side of the path they’re currently walking on. Wilhelm’s body contains too much energy to allow him to sit too, so he remains standing right in front of him.
“Did you leave because me hearing you made you uncomfortable?” Simon asks, his voice quiet and understanding.
“It’s not that,” Wilhelm reassures him right away, “it’s just… you make me nervous.”
There it is – he finally admitted it.
When he chances a look at him, he finds Simon frowning. “Why?”
Wilhelm takes a deep, calming breath as he thinks: now or never.
“Because I really like you,” he says, his heart beating so fast and hard in his chest that it feels like it could actually break his ribcage. “I don’t often have crushes, so that’s probably why when I do I suddenly don’t really know how to behave like a normal human being anymore. Whenever I see you, all I want is to talk to you and get to know you a little better, but for some reason my mind just… freezes. And the worst thing is that you’re always so nice to me, and you probably think I’m stupid or just plain rude–”
“I don’t think you’re rude,” Simon interrupts him, “nor stupid, for that matter.”
Wilhelm appreciates him clarifying that, since it was not that obvious to him.
“Still, I haven’t really been the friendliest person to you, and I’m really sorry about that,” he says anyway. “And I’m also sorry about the other day. I was just very embarrassed about you finding out I like you in the most humiliating way possible.”
Out of all the responses Wilhelm expected to get from him in that moment, a stare followed by a short, genuine laugh is the absolute last one on the list.
“Wille,” Simon says, a grin now curving his lips, “I already knew.”
That admission has Wilhelm’s racing thoughts halt instantly. “What?”
Noticing the surprise that must be painted all over his face, Simon does his best to conceal another laugh as he explains, “I mean, I didn’t know for sure, but with you coming to the café so often and watching my Instagram stories repeatedly… I definitely had an inkling.”
Wilhelm blinks stupidly as he keeps staring at him. “Watching your… what?”
Oh, this is so much worse than Wilhelm originally thought.
“You do know that you can see when people watch your stories multiple times, right?” Simon asks, trying and failing to keep his amusement at bay. “They show up to the top of the viewers list every time they rewatch it.”
And, no – Wilhelm definitely hadn’t know that.
“Oh my God,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as he lets himself fall on the bench next to him with no grace whatsoever, “I want to die.”
Simon laughs again, but even if he cannot currently see him, Wilhelm can tell that he’s not mocking him. He’s even more sure of it when the other touches his arm in gentle, reassuring way.
“It’s fine,” he says, amusement still clear in his voice, “who do you think I was posting so often for?”
That gets Wilhelm’s head to snap up. “What do you mean?”
Now that he can focus on Simon’s pretty face again, he immediately notices the way his cheeks look uncharacteristically rosy – like he’s the one who feels a little shy about what he’s about to confess, now.
“I like you too, Wille,” he admits after a short pause, making Wilhelm’s heart do all kinds of summersaults in his chest. “I never said anything only because… I don’t know, I guess I didn’t want to get to know you while serving an espresso and a stale cinnamon bun. When you followed me on Instagram I thought you would finally message me, but you didn’t and I– I started thinking I had just misunderstood everything.”
“You hadn’t,” Wilhelm says right away, knowing, even in his totally dumbfounded mental state, that he has to make this clear. “I kind of panicked when I followed you because it was a sort of accident, but also I had no idea you wanted me to–”
“I wanted you to,” Simon interrupts him, his eyes warm and honest like they always are. “I still want you to.”
Wilhelm can’t believe this totally unexpected turn of events. He came here today with no expectations at all – truth be told, he would’ve been completely happy with Simon simply accepting his apologies and telling him that despite his weird behavior he’s not banned from setting foot into the café he works at.
Simon admitting that he, too, wants the same things Wilhelm wants had never, ever, even really crossed his mind.
“Okay, yes,” is the only thing he’s able to get out, his heart pounding in his ears and his thoughts a complete mess, “good. Nice, very nice.”
Even in the state of shock he’s in at the moment, he notices the grin that slowly curves Simon’s lips again. With tone completely devoid of judgment or disdain, he playfully asks, “Is your mind freezing again?”
“Yep,” Wilhelm admits easily, making the other burst into yet another laugh that sounds so angelic that he can’t help but chuckle, too.
Letting his palm travel down Wilhelm’s arm until he reaches his hand to gently hold it in his, Simon then asks, “Can I do something to try and unfreeze it?”
He drops his gaze to Wilhelm’s lips to give him a clear hint of what’s on his mind, which causes Wilhelm’s body temperature to immediately reach unprecedented high levels.
Unable to get a single word out, the only response Wilhelm is able to give him in that moment in an urgent nod of his head, which has Simon smile even more than he’s already doing. Then, a second later, the boy next to him is already leaning towards him and closing his gorgeous brown eyes right before he presses his soft lips to his.
And Wilhelm has imagined this moment one, two, three, four hundred million times before today. He’s imagined all kind of situations that could possibly lead up to it, some arguably more realistic than others, but all of them seemingly so out of reach that he’d always felt a bit of an idiot after every daydream he’d indulged in.
Still, nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the real thing – for actually kissing Simon and having Simon kiss him back like he, too, has been waiting for this moment for longer than Wilhelm will ever be able to comprehend.
When they eventually part with a light kissing sound, Wilhelm’s eyes remain closed for a few seconds longer as he tries his best to calm the erratic beating of his heart. It’s only once he forces himself to open them again that he notices the apprehensive look painted on Simon’s handsome face.
“Wait, was it too soon to kiss you?” he asks, suddenly alarmed, bringing a hand to his mouth. “Should I have–”
Wilhelm interrupts his rant before it properly starts by fervently shaking his head.
“I genuinely feel like I might drop dead right now,” he blurts out instead – hoping it will be enough to give Simon an explanation of why he currently looks as out of it as he does.
His – not so exaggerated – words seem to do the trick, because Simon’s concern visibly lessens as he lets his hand fall back to his lap. “Is that a positive thing?” he asks cautiously.
“Very. Very positive,” he confirms, seeing Simon relax completely at the reassurance. “I fear you just made my brain freeze worse, though.”
At that, Simon finally lets out another melodious laugh that immediately has Wilhelm mirror him.
“Do you reckon you could handle me kissing you again, then?” the other asks, a flirtatious lilt to his voice that is completely new to Wilhelm but that already has him absolutely obsessed.
With a shrug, he simply replies, “Even if i can’t, I can’t honestly think of a better way to go.”
Simon laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners and the late afternoon sun catching on his black curls, making them shine as bright as his elated face. Then, he slides closer to Wilhelm on the bench and places a hand on his cheek, starting to lean in once more; he however stops a couple of centimeters before their lips can make contact to murmur, “By the way, our star signs are very compatible.”
Wilhelm, who had already closed his eyes in preparation for the kiss, opens them again. “Are they?”
“Yes,” Simon confirms, his gentle brown eyes roaming around Wilhelm’s entire face in a way that makes butterflies furiously flap their wings in his stomach, “I looked it up.”
Wilhelm can’t help but let out an exhilarated giggle, which only causes Simon to do the same before he tilts his chin up enough to shut him up with another kiss.
If all of it turns out to be just a wonderful dream, Wilhelm doesn’t want to be woken up ever again.