Archive of Our Own

Simon is so bored at this party. He’s only at it because Wilhelm was goaded, it’s not somewhere he wanted to go. Wilhelm was having dinner with Nils last week and Nils made a comment about how Wilhelm never brings Simon along to hang out with him. Which is true—Simon hates Nils’ set, a full half of whom are closeted because they’re unwilling to lose any competitive advantage in business, and all of whom are annoying, so he doesn’t go their dinners and their parties and he doesn’t really get why Wilhelm does. Wilhelm doesn’t really have a good answer either, except that Nils asks him to. Wilhelm seems incapable of closing off a connection; Nils reaches out and makes the effort and so Wilhelm says yes and shows up and doesn’t have a good time and then comes home. Is this really how Wilhelm wants to spend his one precious life? At parties he doesn’t enjoy?

It’s his life, though, so Simon kisses him and lets him go, dressed up in slacks and button-downs the likes of which he only keeps for this and formal dinners with his parents. And all of that would be fine, except Nils’ needling has made it Simon’s life too—or Simon’s life of the last two hours.

Nils said, “You always leave Simon at home, someone might think you wanted to keep him secluded,” and Wilhelm couldn’t let that rest. It doesn’t matter how much Simon reassured him that he knows that Wilhelm loves him and wants to be open with him, Wilhelm was determined to prove that he wasn’t hiding Simon.

So Simon is out there in a black suit and maroon button-down that Wilhelm picked out for him ages ago and slowly sipping his drink and trying not to act like his frontal lobe is shrivelling from deep boredom. The place is nice enough, Simon supposes. It’s a private club, which is really just a room with wood panelling and velvet couches but done in a way that screams upscale club rather than ancient grandfather. It’s something in the under table lighting and the DJ’s music choices. In full light Simon doesn’t think the place would be much. But there’s a small space for dancing that no one is using and a bar and secluded booths. The music is quiet enough that people can talk but loud enough that they can’t overhear. Simon gets why Nils likes it, it’s the exact combination of ostentatious and discreet that he goes for.

Wilhelm keeps looking over at him from across the room, watching Simon, checking in, which would be very nice but Simon can’t get to Wilhelm. Wilhelm has been surrounded by a throng, two layers deep, of finance bros and minor european nobility and Instagram fitness influencers. They all laugh too hard at everything Wilhelm says—which is fake because Simon knows that Wilhelm isn’t funny. Charming, and sweet, and lovely, and he occasionally drops these deceptively hilarious little cutting remarks, but he’s not funny, he doesn’t quip.

Simon sticks his tongue out and chases a bubble popping on the surface of his drink. Wilhelm drops his sentence mid-clause, which is gratifying. The beefy guy next to Wilhelm in the shirt with too many buttons open guffaws.

Nils appears next to Simon. He’s got his own flute and he holds it casually by the stem with one hand; the other crosses his chest and supports his glass arm from beneath. “It’s really pathetic, isn’t it,” Nils says, “there’s no art in their approach.”

Simon looks at him out of the corner of his eye. So Nils sees it. Nils must see it all the time, and he wanted Simon to see it too. “Wille isn’t going to go for any of them.” Simon has total and unshakeable trust in Wilhelm’s faithfulness. Part of it is because Wilhelm is oblivious, Simon could ask him now and he probably would say that maybe one or two of those guys is flirting, despite the way one of them currently has a hand on Wilhelm’s wrist, presumably under the pretense of admiring Wilhelm’s watch. Yep, there he goes, one finger beneath the shirt cuff on Wilhelm’s shirt. Simon’s grip tightens on his glass.

Nils hums, agreeing. “Not yet.” Simon looks at him sharply. “No one’s trying to pull Wilhelm right now, though they wouldn’t say no I’m sure. But they’re all trying to get into position, so that when Wilhelm does start to look around, they’re already in his sightline. It’s basic advertising strategy, the goal isn’t to sell a mattress at this moment but rather so that when someone is looking they know where to go.”

The beat is heavy but it’s nothing to the sluggish rage that is starting to pulse in his heart. That’s what Nils wanted him to see? Like Simon isn’t aware that a lot of people see Wilhelm as meat. There’s a cachet in them scoring with the former Crown Prince of Sweden. He’s tall, he’s handsome, he’s rich, Simon gets what they see.

Simon sees a lot more than that.

“Is that what you think you’ve done?” Simon asks, voice deceptively smooth.

Nils shrugs. “You’re a good starter boyfriend, Simon, but nothing lasts forever.”

What a small man. Four years isn’t forever, but it’s clearly longer than Nils could ever imagine being wanted. It’s Simon’s turn to show him something.

He puts his glass on the bar, then he looks directly at Wilhelm. Wilhelm looks back at him in seconds, part of his attention always centred on Simon. Simon raises a finger and crooks it.

Wilhelm stumbles out of the group and towards Simon. Simon couldn’t push his way in there, but he doesn’t have to. Wilhelm pauses in front of Simon, searching his face. Simon isn’t sure what his expression is like.

“Simon? Do you need something?” Wilhelm asks.

Beside him, Nils is standing very still.

Simon tips his head back. Wilhelm’s eyes lock on Simon’s neck. Simon braces his elbows on the bar, leaning back a little and Wilhelm takes an unbidden half-step forward. When Simon stands up to full height, their chests are almost touching. He looks up at Wilhelm with wide eyes. Wilhelm’s gaze is locked on his, even with a furrow between his brows.

“Are you okay?” Wilhelm asks, very quiet. Nils has been very still through the show that Simon is putting on but this makes him shift. Be uncomfortable, Simon thinks, vicious. Wilhelm wants him and he cares about him. How many parties like this has Wilhelm gone to and stood there like a wooden block while these useless boys dashed their hopes on him? Simon doesn’t even need to speak to have Wilhelm tuned to him. Watch us.

“Hm,” Simon says, not really an answer. Wilhelm watches him carefully. Simon walks two fingers along the buttons of Wilhelm’s black shirt. There’s a subtle embroidery on the breast. “The party is boring.”

“We can go,” Wilhelm says immediately.

“We could,” Simon agrees. “I have a question for you,” he says instead. He leans in to whisper in Wilhelm’s ear. Wilhelm tilts down obligingly. He looks at Nils when he does it, making sure he sees. “You want me, right?”

“Always,” Wilhelm breathes.

“What if I wanted you to suck me off right here. Get on your knees and do it.” He keeps his voice low, probably too low for Nils to hear, but he doesn’t care if he does. Wilhelm nods. Simon’s lips curl, satisfied.

Wilhelm whispers back, nuzzling him a little as he does it, “Baby, what are you doing?” Simon thrills at the improvisation. Love bubbles in his heart. Wilhelm checking in with him, but above all, playing along. It’s so much trust.

“Fucking with some assholes,” Simon says. “Also you look hot.”

He leans back.

Wilhelm smiles at him, an extra spark in his eyes.

“Nils was telling me this club is very discreet, weren’t you?” Wilhelm says.

They both look at Nils. Nils grip on his glass in white knuckle tight. He’s not the only one watching them now. The horde of suitors has also turned to observe. Their view isn’t that great, though, it’s Wilhelm’s back. Simon shifts, cocking his hip against the bar. He puts Wilhelm between him and Nils. Now people can see just how close they’re standing, just how much Wilhelm is curled around him.

“It is,” Nils answers through tight teeth.

Wilhelm leans in. “You want me to do it?”

Simon doesn’t need to ask what ‘it’ is. He shivers. Is Wilhelm serious about getting down on the floor here? “Really? You would?”

Wilhelm shrugs. “I don’t care who sees how much I love you.”

Simon wraps his arms around Wilhelm’s neck. He runs his nose along Wilhelm’s top lip. “They’d all be watching,” Simon says. “All these sycophants who think they’re good enough to ride your dick.” Wilhelm stiffens. He looks over at the crowd. “You didn’t know? They’re auditioning.”

“I don’t want them,” Wilhelm says immediately.

“I know,” Simon says. He can’t help but give Wilhelm a peck. He’s so earnest. “Play along?” Wilhelm nods, which is good because otherwise Wilhelm is going to turn this into him trying to ‘prove’ just how exclusive he feels about Simon, which is not what Simon wants right now. Wilhelm has nothing to excuse himself for, nothing to justify. Simon won’t toy with him like that, won’t ever make Wilhelm doubt how much Simon knows he’s committed, and definitely not how much Wilhelm is wanted. Instead, what Simon wants is to put these other guys in the ground. He’s sure they all have rich internal lives or whatever, but they came here as Simon’s enemies and he doesn’t owe them any consideration. “Because you’re mine, right?” Wilhelm nods fervently, rubbing his face along Simon’s. “You’re mine to touch,” he slides his hand into Wilhelm’s hair, “and mine to kiss,” he plants a lingering one on Wilhelms lips, “and mine to show off”

“Yes,” Wilhelm says. He kisses Simon back, deeply. “You want to show me off?” He quirks a smile, dimple on the left side.

“Mm, little bit,” Simon says. He’s proud of his boyfriend, generally in their life but right now he’s riding the thrill of having something that all of these idiots think is easy and knowing it’s out of their reach. They didn’t care about Simon, they overlooked him, wanted him to feel small, but he isn’t. And maybe he wants to rub their faces in it.

“How do you want to show me off?”

Simon looks around Wilhelm to make eye contact with Nils and says, too bright, “Does this place have private rooms?”

“It does,” Nils says, looking like he’s eating glass. It fills Simon with pep and vigour.

Nils pushes off of the bar. Simon goes to take Wilhelm’s hand, but Wilhelm has understood the assignment; he wraps his arm around Simon’s waist instead, hand coming all the way around to cup the front of Simon’s hip. As they walk by the other partygoers whisper and mutter. Wilhelm is playing it up a little, nuzzling Simon’s neck and keeping his hands on him. Simon, for his part, gets to enjoy the spoils, the envy and jealousy from everyone else there. They all want to be where Simon and none of them will ever get the chance. The closest they’ll ever get is this moment, right now.

Nils doesn’t look back. Hopefully he realises how badly he’s miscalculated. They get to the room and Nils opens the door. Simon was expecting something seedier, but it just seems like a small room to chat in. There’s a chaise and an armchair and a small table, there’s a drinks cart.

“Thanks,” Simon says. He looks at Wilhelm. This would also be a good moment to bail, if Wilhelm was done. Go home and laugh about it, or make out in the back of a car, away from all of these eyes.

In response to Simon’s silent question, Wilhelm picks Simon up. He uses the grip on Simon’s hip, and puts his other hand on Simon’ waist. Instinct and habit get Simon to wrap his legs around Wilhelm’s. “Anything else you want me to show off?” Wilhelm mutters while Simon bites his lip to stay quiet.

Simon thinks he hears a sigh from the crowd. That’s right, be disappointed. Wilhelm holds him up easily. Simon whispers in his ear. “They think they want you, but they couldn’t handle you,” Simon says. He kisses the edge of Wilhelm’s jaw. “They don’t know what you need.”

Wilhelm shakes his head. “Only you do.”

“Damn right.”

Wilhelm takes them into the room. He kicks the door shut behind them, it doesn’t close all the way, open enough to let a sliver of light enter the room. Then he puts Simon down carefully onto the chaise. “Did you get what you wanted?” Wilhelm asks. Wilhelm turns to the door to close it the rest of the way.

“Leave it,” Simon says. Simon licks his lips, considering. The thing is, having Wilhelm like this, working for him, following his play, is extremely hot. And he can’t lie, there’s something about holding that entire room spellbound that makes him shiver. It’s like performing his music but in this case Wilhelm is his instrument.

Wilhelm watches Simon think it through. He puts his hands on Simon’s knees and presses gently. Simon spreads them. Wilhelm folds down gracefully to his knees. He looks up at Simon and Simon will never get sick of this perspective, Wilhelm looking at him through his eyelashes, his cheekbones drawing angles down to his lips. “Do you think the sound would carry?” Wilhelm asks. He makes small circles with his thumbs on the inside of Simon’s knees. “Would they hear you? If I did a good enough job, would they know just how well I can fuck you?”

Simon swallows. He can’t hold it back, the wanting. And he doesn’t have to. He wants Wilhelm and he gets to have him, can have him wherever, whenever. “I hope they can,” Simon says.

Wilhelm flicks open the button on Simon’s slacks. He doesn’t pull them off, just reaches inside Simon’s underwear and pulls him out. He starts to jack him slowly, just the way Simon likes. Simon groans.

“Yeah,” Wilhelm says. “Want to make you feel good.”

“You do.”

“Want everyone to know,” Wilhelm says. “I want them to look at me and think that’s the man who is good to Simon, the one who takes care of him.”

Simon pants, feeling light-headed. “Fuck, Wille, do it.”

Wilhelm leans in, mouth hot and wet around Simon’s cock. He sucks Simon messily, taking him in deep, keeping his throat open. He swallows around the head of Simon’s cock, but it’s not enough to keep him from dripping all over Simon’s cock and down over his balls. These underwear are going to be a loss, the pants might too. Simon’s toes scrabble on the floor, curling inside his shoes and slipping on the carpet when he tries to push up into Wilhelm’s mouth.

Wilhelm grips his hips and Simon moans at the pressure, the delightful counterpoint to Wilhelm’s mouth.

“Fuck, you’re good, you’re so good,” Simon is moaning continuously. The frustration from earlier has been totally transmuted into molten heat and Wilhelm is drawing that out of him with his mouth. Wilhelm’s knees are spread wide and Simon can see that his own hard cock his pushing against his zipper. “You should touch yourself. You should show me, show them, just how desperate fucking me makes you, how much you want to make me feel good. It’s all you want, isn’t it? To be here, looking after me, giving me what I want? I wish they could see it.” Simon could get up, yank the door the rest of the way open. Anyone walking by could see Wilhelm on his knees, in ecstasy like it’s his cock being sucked.

Wilhelm groans and fucks his face forward on Simon’s cock. At the same time he blindly scrabbles for his own zipper. When he gets a hand on his cock he curls over it and that makes Simon’s eyes roll back. He loves when Wilhelm is so turned on that it’s just this side of too much.

Simon doesn’t have to do much like this at all, Wilhelm is doing all the work. Simon spreads his legs wider and arches his back and Wilhelm rewards him by fucking forward harder. Fuck, he’s so good, so open for Simon. No pretension, no ego, all focus on doing what brings Simon the most pleasure. Wilhelm swallows and Simon’s head falls backwards, eyes rolling in pleasure. Just as fast he snaps his head forward because he needs to see him, needs to see the beautiful way he focuses, eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed. His lips are stretched wide, a beautiful pink contrast to Simon’s dick and getting pinker all the time, but the tension is all on the surface, his throat is perfectly relaxed, his body is gently balanced. Wilhelm carries himself with poise and that’s just as true now, knees spread, cock out. No one’s come by, no one’s pushed on the opened door, but they could, they could and if they did they’d see exactly what Simon wants them to. Somehow, Wilhelm speeds up, his free hand coming up underneath Simon’s thigh to spread him infinitesimally more, putting him on better display, making him more available to Simon and that’s too good, it’s everything.

He’s close.

He touches Wilhelm’s cheek gently. Wilhelm knows what that means and he pulls off. He takes his free hand and starts pulling Simon’s dick, spit making it a smooth slide. “Wille, are you sure?” Wilhelm opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, laving the underside of the head of Simon’s dick. Simon gets it. “You want, fuck, you want me to mark you? Want them to see?” Wilhelm closes his lips around the head of Simon’s cock, sucking for a second before releasing. That’s… Wilhelm is incredible. Simon asks for a grain of rice and Wilhelm makes him a feast. He loves him. Fiercely. That’s his Wilhelm. He thinks about it though and he realises—he’s good. He made his point. Who cares what these guys think. He has him, all of him, right now and always, making him feel good, holding him. When he comes he grips Wilhelm’s hair, holding him in place, and he pushes back into the familiar heat of Wilhelm’s mouth. Wilhelm swallows around him. Simon strokes the side of Wilhelm’s neck, cock kicking with the aftershocks.

Somewhere in there, Wilhelm stopped touching himself. Simon pulls Wilhelm up, half into his lap. He reaches for Wilhelm’s cock. Wilhelm puts his hand on top of Simon’s. “Simon, I—” He pants against Simon’s mouth. “Do you want… if you want… I could go out like this. And everyone would know. They’d know you got yours but that I—”

Simon squeezes, a little, just enough to make Wilhelm groan. “Fuck them. I’m not making you wait on their account. They’re nothing to me.” Wilhelm is everything. He pushes Wilhelm’s dick up against his stomach. He catches as much as he can with his hand, but some of it dribbles onto Wilhelm’s shirt, sinking into the dark fabric. It’ll only be a stain when it dries, like the flecks on Wilhelm’s collar that are appearing despite Simon’s best efforts.

He holds up his hand to Wilhelm and Wilhelm licks his palm, working his tongue around the grooves of Simon’s fingers. Simon scratches Wilhelm’s head behind his ears, soothing.

“Let’s go home,” Simon says.

Wilhelm nods. He tucks them both back into their pants. He smooths his hair, but that’s a losing proposition, all of the gel has been crushed and the pieces float around freely. Doing up his suit jacket hides the worst of the stain, but not his collar. Simon, in contrast, looks fine. He feels worked over, but it would be hard to tell.

They step out of the room holding hands.

The party has returned to normal party vibes, people in small groups chatting, drinking. That is, until they walk in. Every head turns and locks onto them. Simon lifts his head proudly. He’s not the one with anything to be self-conscious about, these vultures. They head straight for the door.

Nils intercepts them. “Wilhelm—” Wilhelm puts up his hand. Simon hides a smirk. He didn’t even tell Wilhelm what Nils said, he can do that later, but Wilhelm’s smart, he can draw conclusions. A spark of vindictiveness rises in him. These other idiots are who they are, but Nils knew them. Wilhelm trusted him. It doesn’t get a firm hold though because the orgasm has mellowed him; it’s hard to work up a proper bout of resentment when Wilhelm is right there.

It gives him an impulse though. “I think I lost track of my drink,” Simon says. “I need a fresh one.”

Wilhelm turns to him slowly and Simon gives him a sweet smile, totally fake. Wilhelm smirks. “Whatever you want,” Wilhelm says. His voice is a little hoarse and there’s no doubt as to why. He goes to the bar.

The crowd at the bar parts for Wilhelm like grass in the wind. The eyes of these men flick over Wilhelm’s collar, his pink lips, his messed up hair. They say nothing. No one approaches Simon.

“You made your point,” Nils says.

“Mm,” Simon agrees, then takes his new drink from Wilhelm. This one is elderflower and has a lemon twist in it. He turns his back to Nils and functionally Nils stops existing for him.

Wilhelm holds out his glass and Simon clinks it. Simon reaches up and brushes a piece of hair off Wilhelm’s forehead, not fixing it, but placing it where it looks nice.

Wilhelm laughs. “What do you want me to do now?”

Simon steps in closer, touching elbows. “Let’s sit.”

They go to one of the small booths, curved velvet bench around a round table. If Simon ignores the half-shocked stares from everyone in the club it could be them, on a date, like normal. If it makes the circling vultures realise just what they’re missing, then that’s an incidental perk. What they have isn’t just fancy suits and expert blowjobs, there’s a foundation here and it’s comfortable. As long as they’re reaching for something ultimately hollow, they’ll never have it. This is the part they should be jealous of.

“Okay.” Wilhelm sits close to him. Sure, there’s people around, but Simon doesn’t care what they see, which is different than showing off. It’s just them. They don’t have anything to hide and they have everything to be proud of. Wilhelm puts his hand on Simon’s thigh and Simon leans into Wilhelm.

“We could have stayed in our comfy clothes,” Wilhelm says.

“Which is what I suggested,” Simon reminds him and then presses his face against Wilhelm’s to show he isn’t mad.

“Do you want me to do the traditional forfeit for when I’m wrong?” Wilhelm asks. Simon thinks about it then shakes his head. Wilhelm squeezes Simon’s thigh. “Though if we’d stayed home I wouldn’t have gotten to see you all dressed up.”

“You like it?” Simon asks. Wilhelm doesn’t usually say either way, he seems to appreciate Simon’s appearance regardless of what he’s wearing.

Wilhelm bites his lip. Huh. Well that’s valuable information. Simon finishes his drink. “If you like these clothes maybe you can help me take them off,” Simon offers.

Wilhelm slams the rest of his back and stands up. He does up the button on his suit jacket when he does, hiding the stain, it’s more visible now and Simon feels smug again. “You’re incorrigible,” Wilhelm says, seeing Simon’s reaction.

Simon shrugs. “Let’s go home.”

When they walk out the crowd parts with an audible sigh. Simon hopes they can live on the memory because they’ll never see it again.