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Wilhelm lets out a sigh.
All around him, people are chatting quietly, savoring their caviar and sipping on their glasses of champagne. The light coming from the chandeliers dances across the gold of the jewelry worn by the guests and the silverware arranged on the tables. Wilhelm loathes those types of parties. He's already not the biggest fan of gatherings but there's nothing he hates more than having to pretend to be someone else for a whole night. At least this time, he's literally wearing a mask.
His mom dragged him and Agata to a fundraiser held in Geneva to facilitate access to culture for people coming from underprivileged neighborhoods. Now Wilhelm wholeheartedly supports the cause, but they had to dress up super chic for the occasion and for a reason he doesn’t quite understand, the organizers of the evening decided to make it a masquerade.
The irony of it all still makes Wilhelm laugh internally.
He looks to his side where Agata is talking animatedly with a man in his fifties. He's at the head of one of the most valuable libraries in Europe, at least that's how he introduced himself to them before. Wilhelm has already forgotten his name.
The bracelet around Agata’s wrist emits a soft tinkling noise like wind chimes when she raises her hand to push her mask further back onto her nose. It’s made out of pink and taffy flowers, complimenting the red of her hair just right and making her green eyes pop. She is wearing an elegant dress that almost reaches the floor. The fabric flickers slightly when she moves and the color is the same as the blush she put on her cheeks and the pocket square covering Wilhelm’s heart.
They coordinated despite Wilhelm insisting on wearing his navy suit because he knows the slim fit enhances the narrowness of his chest and waist. He took a picture earlier in the mirror and sent it to Simon who replied with five heart eyes emojis and the gif of the dog sitting while his home catches on fire. Wilhelm takes a sip of champagne to hide the smile forming on his lips at the memory.
Just like Agata, the mask he’s wearing only covers his eyes and the top of his cheekbones. It’s less heavily decorated though, a sober domino mask made out of paper mache, color of twilight. Wilhelm felt a bit self-conscious and dumb when he looked at his reflection in the beginning, but Agata assured him that the deep blue made the hazel of his eyes glow like two topazes.
His mom is nowhere to be seen and his dad is still standing in front of the buffet. Wilhelm wonders if that’s what a loveless marriage looks like. If his dad has to eat his feelings to do something about the void in his chest. Wilhelm knows there is respect in his parents’ union but when he compares it to his relationship with Agata, it’s quite clear that there’s not even that deep of a bond between them. It makes him sad sometimes.
Wilhelm is getting mentally ready to go back out there and get into meaningless conversations with some of the rich guests when there is a tap on his shoulder. He turns around, half expecting to find his mother scowling at him but it’s not the Queen standing there. It’s a man, who looks more like someone belonging to a fashion show than a boring fundraiser.
“Hey,” the man says, his voice so familiar.
Wilhelm doesn’t recognize Simon at first, thrown off by how tall the man looks, but then he smiles and at the same time, Wilhelm notices the varnished Calvin Klein boots, understanding the reason why Simon appears taller is because he’s wearing heels.
Wilhelm has to make a conscious effort not to let his emotions show on his face, just in case someone manages to read him under his mask. But it’s hard when Simon looks like he’s out of a fucking fairy tale. He pulled his hair into a messy bun but left some loose curls by the sides of his face to create a sophisticated look. The double-breasted suit he’s wearing has too many buttons for Wilhelm to count and the focal point drifts from the seam toward the sides to create the illusion of a wider frame. Wilhelm is only able to tell because he knows what Simon looks like without any clothes on. Fuck. Wrong train of thoughts.
Wilhelm returns his attention to the suit, making note of how the pastel blue makes Simon stand out in the room even more when all the other men are dressed in either black, grey or navy. There are shimmering rings on his fingers, sapphires dangling from his ears and the mask he chose to wear is made out of reflective silver lace that is almost too bright to look at, and only covers half of his face. His eyes look slightly more hooded than usual, and Wilhelm realizes with a sharp intake of breath that Simon must have applied mascara and kohl.
Wilhelm’s gaze flickers down to his lips and he feels the familiar warmth coiling in his stomach when Simon darts his tongue to lick them. They’re the same lips whose shape Wilhelm traced many times with his fingertips, but tonight, there is a slight peach hue to them and – shit, Simon is definitely wearing some type of lipstick.
The sight of him makes Wilhelm’s mouth go dry until he’s nothing more than a bundle of emotions. He never wanted to kiss Simon as badly as he does right in this moment. He takes a deep breath, allowing himself to picture it for a second. He would grab Simon by the lapels of his suit and crush their lips together in a kiss that would drive his mother insane and fill people with jealousy.
He exhales.
Simon is still standing there, his tempting lips stretched into a playful smile.
“Fancy seeing you here, Crown Prince.”
Wilhelm chokes on air.
“Yeah. I’m quite surprised to see you here as well. What’s going on exactly?”
Simon crosses his arms behind his back, glancing at the little platform that Wilhelm hadn’t noticed until now where a dozen violinists and cellists are seated, waiting.
“I was chosen to sing as part of the entertainment for the night. You can say that I’m the highlight of the evening in a way.”
Wilhelm bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from smiling.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
Simon winks discreetly at him before holding out his hand for Wilhelm to shake.
“I hope you’ll like it. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Wilhelm strokes the back of his hand with his thumb before letting go.
“The pleasure was all mine.”
Simon leaves quietly after that, his swaying hips making Wilhelm’s head spin.
“Was that Simon?” Agatha whispers into his ear a moment after.
Wilhelm nods, uncapable of looking away from him.
All his senses are tingling and it’s like there is a flame low in his belly, spreading through his chest, constricting his throat. He’s almost on the verge of having a panic attack when his mom suddenly reappears by their side, but there is no way she’ll be able to recognize Simon. It’s been almost ten years now and despite Simon’s mask covering only half of his face, Wilhelm knows his mother won’t notice anything as long as he doesn’t show any particular reaction and stays away from Simon for the rest of the night.
The host, a small woman in her fifties with square glasses and a contagious smile, gets on the stage and grabs the microphone to announce the performance that will follow. Wilhelm tenses when she calls out Simon’s name but his mother doesn’t react in any way. Breathing becomes easier after that, until Simon starts singing and then Wilhelm finds himself breathless again.
“Io ti penso amore.”
Wilhelm will never get over the pride he feels whenever he watches Simon perform, especially when he sings in a language that isn’t Swedish or English. A language that Wilhelm can’t understand but nonetheless, a language that he’s able to appreciate by listening to the way the words roll on Simon’s tongue and the roundness in their sound.
The music is also beautiful, making the hairs on his arm stand up as the notes played by the violins and the cellos intertwine, giving even more intensity to the song. Wilhelm looks around him and finds the same stupefaction in some of the guests watching. It shows in the way they are nailed to the ground, mouths slack, hands clutching onto their champagne glasses. It is pretty rare to hear a man sings this song after all, given how high some of the notes go, but Simon is that talented and incredible.
“Io sono con te. Anche se tu sei lontano.”
Their eyes meet for a brief second and Wilhelm’s heart leaps in his chest.
The whole room erupts in applauses after the end of the first song and Simon bows down with a big smile. They perform three other songs after this, making it hard for Wilhelm to refrain himself from grinning like a maniac. He just can’t get over how giddy Simon’s voice makes him feel. Out of the corner his eye, he can see Agata rubbing her cheeks with a handkerchief after she cried a bit.
He beams at her.
“Shut up,” she says with a smile of her own. “You know it was beautiful.”
“Of course, I know,” he answers, taking the handkerchief out of her hand and wiping the rest of her tears away with his thumbs.
“Thank you, darling.”
His mother is watching them. Wilhelm knows it, so he leans down and leaves a kiss on Agata’s cheek. She smiles at him and links their arms together, giving the Queen a head nod before pulling Wilhelm towards the buffet. Wilhelm thinks she’s going to stay with him, but she suddenly freezes, her gaze fixed on something or someone that Wilhelm can’t see.
“I’ll be right back.”
And just like that she’s gone.
Wilhelm blinks. He hopes nobody is going to try and start up a conversation with him while he stands there. He gulps down the rest of his champagne and pours himself a large glass of water as he observes Simon chatting with a bunch of women a few feet away from him. It’s so strange to see him there but at the same time, it’s like he belongs.
The evening goes on.
Wilhelm manages to stay away from him, but every so often Simon will look up, catching his eye and giving him that smile Wilhelm loves so much. At some point he even makes a show of wrapping his lips around the neck of his water bottle, throwing his head back as he swallows, the movement of his Adam’s apple making Wilhelm’s entire life flash before his eyes.
He almost drops his glass on the floor and mouths “stop this” at Simon but his boyfriend only smiles before returning to his conversation with the people in front of him like nothing happened.
Wilhelm brings both of his hands to his cheeks, finding them hot under his palms and shakes his head. This is dangerous. He’s not sure he’s going to survive the rest of the night and Agata still isn’t back from wherever she left him for. Wilhelm sighs before reaching out for the cake in front of him and serving himself a slice. He needs sugar and some air.
When he arrives on the balcony, Wilhelm is happy to notice that there are only a few people outside, most of them smoking cigarettes in silence. He leans against the stone wall and takes a bite out of the cake, feeling the knot in his throat dissipate to the taste of chocolate on his tongue. Two men in their forties are standing not too far away from him. Wilhelm doesn’t do it on purpose but they’re talking in English and he can’t help but overhear parts of their conversation.
“This generation is lost,” says the man with the goatee. “Fucking dangling earrings and heels. I’m actually surprise he didn’t outright put on a dress at this point.”
The other man, who’s a bit smaller with a bald head and thick glasses snickers.
“Call me a fag but I think I’d fuck him if he was wearing a dress. Have you seen his ass? With that waist and hair you could take him from behind and you wouldn't even realize it's a dude."
The two men start laughing.
Wilhelm follows their gaze, a boiling fury swelling inside of him as he understands that it’s Simon they’re talking about. He wants to punch them. He wants to press their stupid faces against the stone wall and scrape their skin against it until it’s red with their blood. He doesn’t. Nostrils flaring, he lets go of his glass and plate, clenching his fists so hard that his nails cut into his skin.
“Shit you’re right. I’m sure he gives good head too. He’s got those cock sucking lips, you know?”
Wilhelm has heard enough.
“Sorry to bother you,” he says, plastering a fake smile on his face. “I’m afraid we haven’t been introduced. You are?”
The two men recover from the surprise of being interrupted pretty fast. It's quite common at these kinds of events to go out to people and introduce yourself. This is how most political or financial alliances begin.
The man with the goatee crushes his cigarette under his foot before holding out his hand to Wilhelm.
“My name is David Rhodes, director of the Museum of Fine Arts and this is my friend; Joel Carmichael.”
“I own a restaurant or two,” the man with the glasses says with an air filled with vanity.
Wilhelm shakes his hand as well.
“Carmichael and Rhodes. I’ll keep that in mind. You see, I don’t look too kindly on men who disrespect others, especially when they’re attacking my people.”
Carmichael stifles a laugh.
“Your people?”
Wilhelm glances at Simon.
“That guy you were making lewd comments about earlier.”
The two men exchange a look before laughing.
“Listen young man,” Rhodes says, putting his hand on Wilhelm's shoulder. “I don’t care about who you are. I don't have any lesson to take from someone who was probably still pissing the bed when I was graduating from college.”
Wilhelm purses his lips into a smile.
“You’re right, I apologize for my bad manners, I didn’t introduce myself before. My name is Wilhelm Ludvig Folke, Crown Prince of Sweden.”
Seeing their faces crumble when he gives out his full title almost makes Wilhelm want to do a little dance. He doesn’t, instead he just removes Rhodes' hand from his shoulder and makes his way back inside.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to have a conversation with my mother about the future of our relations with America.”
God. That felt so good. Wilhelm doesn’t like to abuse of his title and the power it gives him, but desperate situations call for desperate measures, and he will be damned the day he lets someone disrespect the people who are dear to him. He needs to tell Agata and he really wants to kiss Simon. He knows it’s a terrible idea, but he’s high off the two glasses of champagne he had before, and the turmoil of feelings this encounter just left him with.
His eyes find Simon in the middle of the crowd. He’s walking towards the door in the back of the room, probably going for a piss or something. Wilhelm looks around him. Agata is still nowhere to be found and his mom is talking with a bunch of people he doesn’t know while his dad stands silently besides her. This is his chance.
Wilhelm counts to ten before slipping past the guests and following Simon out of the room. As he gets closer to the exit, he finally notices the familiar red hair of his wife. She’s talking with a woman in a white suit. Wilhelm can’t tell if he knows her or not because of the mask but he’s sure he doesn’t. There is something about the way she’s standing tall with her buzz cut and her lips tinted gold that screams of confidence and power. Wilhelm tends to remember people like that. He’ll ask Agata later.
He waits in front of the bathroom for Simon to be finished, a bubbling feeling rising into his chest with each intake of breath. A couple passes in front of him to go into the garden at some point, but nobody else shows up while he waits or pays attention to him for that matter.
Simon stops in his tracks when he sees Wilhelm leaning against the opposite wall. He opens his mouth but Wilhelm is quicker. He makes sure there is no one around before hooking his fingertips behind Simon’s elbow, dragging him into the room he knows is empty thanks to the visit of the place they were given before the start of the evening.
Wilhelm shuts the door behind them, sliding one hand up the nape of Simon’s neck, cradling it gently, a striking contrast against the intensity with which he shoves Simon against the nearest wall and presses their bodies flush together.
“Wille…”
Simon’s breath hitches when Wilhelm traces the side of his face that isn’t covered by the mask with his thumb. He trails his knuckles down the line of his throat, feels how fast his heart is beating. Simon lets Wilhelm draw his lips with his thumb next, before opening his mouth, licking and biting at the skin, his eyes dark and burning.
Simon’s breath ghosts over his lips when Wilhelm leans over, their noses brushing and that’s enough to take Wilhelm over the edge and make him forget about everything that isn’t Simon. He focuses on the burst of adrenaline as he pulls both of their masks down and crushes their mouths together. Simon gives a sharp gasp as their bodies collide with even more force, his touch hungry, hands running down the hard planes of his back.
Wilhelm is getting a little mad.
In one frantic motion, he knocks the books off the table next to them and pushes Simon onto it so he’s sitting with his back against the wall, his legs falling open immediately. Wilhelm finds his place between them, wrenching Simon’s head back into another searing kiss, trying his best to keep his hands out of his hair because he doesn’t want to mess it up.
Simon catches Wilhelm’s lip between his teeth and pulls, making drops of color explode behind his closed eyelids and he feels crazy with the quiet burn deep in his guts. He drops his hand onto Simon’s thigh, feeling the magnetic pulse there and the smooth fabric of his pants over hard muscles. Simon curses into his mouth, winding his fingers into Wilhelm’s dark blonde hair, tilting his head so that he can purposely devour Wilhelm with the depth of his kiss.
And then the door opens and the world stops.
They both freeze.
Simon pulls back to look at Wilhelm, wild-eyed, mouth a vivid red that has nothing to do with his lipstick anymore, and Wilhelm is going to throw up. He’s paralyzed, legs close to start shaking but the stars must still be with him because he feels the tension suddenly leave Simon’s body, and he understands why when he hears a familiar voice behind him.
“Have you both completely lost your mind?”
Wilhelm detaches himself from Simon and turns around.
Agata is standing in front of the door, one hand on the handle to prevent anyone from getting into the room. Her eyes are unusually cold and her jaw is tensed. Wilhelm hasn't seen this look directed towards him before. She’s angry. Wilhelm never felt so small in his entire life. It’s worse than disappointing his parents.
“I’m sorry,” he says helplessly.
Agata shakes her head in disbelief, moving away from the door and closer to him.
“For Christ Sakes, what were you thinking?” she whispers as she tries to flatten his hair with her hands.
“I – I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”
“Seriously?” Agata hisses. “Wilhelm, you look like you’ve been mauled by a bear!”
Wilhelm takes out his phone to look at himself in the camera and lets out a strangled noise. His dress shirt is wrinkled, his hair messed up beyond measure and his whole face is red and covered by faint lipstick stains. Fuck. He can even see a mark blooming on his throat, he doesn’t even remember Simon kissing him there.
The full extent of what just happened and how close he was to ruin things for the three of them strikes Wilhelm like lightning. He throws a look behind him but Simon is looking at the floor. He didn’t move from where he was sitting on the table and the blank expression on his face makes Wilhelm nervous.
“I’m sorry,” he says again but Agata shushes him.
“Do you have your lipstick on you?” she asks Simon who finally decided to come down from the table.
“I do.”
Agata almost snatches the tube from his hands when he hands it to her and she quickly applies it onto her own lips. She gives it back to him and throws her handkerchief in his face.
“You need to get ride of yours. The stains on Wilhelm’s collar won’t come off and if people notice, we’re fucked.”
Simon does what is asked of him in silence. He’s still not looking at Wilhelm and it’s breaking him.
“We’re going to get out first,” Agata says. “You can follow in ten minutes, that should be enough, I think.”
As she’s about to open the door and leave, Agata links her fingers with Wilhelm's and turns to him and Simon, her eyes firm.
“This can never happen again.”
Wilhelm nods, forcing himself to ignore the tearing sound of his heart as he puts his mask back on his face and Simon still refuses to look at him. And it hurts, because within this pitch black darkness, Simon is still shining so brightly. Wilhelm feels like Icarus, who flew too close to the sun, melting away the wax holding the feathers of his wings together as he fell into the sea.
And now he’s drowning.
“A house made of cards, and us inside
Even if you say you see the end, even if you say it'll collapse soon
A house made of cards, and stupidly, us
Even if you say it's a useless dream, just stay a little more like this
Slow down the time
Please stay just for a little more
Please baby. Calm down
Just a little more”
The end…