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i dont wanna feel how i did last night

Summary:

Simon finds himself at one of Stockholm's liveliest nightclubs when his friends drag him out of the house after his recent breakup. However, after some alcohol consumption, Simon stumbles into a drunken relationship with the crown prince of Sweden. Their secret love affair is then threatened to be revealed by someone in Simon's past, and the two have to manage that and the Queen of Sweden

or

Inebriated Simon scores himself a total hottie.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: drunken kisses

Chapter Text

The stuffy concoction of alcohol, cramped bodies, and strobe lights left a distinctly sharp burn in the back of Simon’s throat, much akin to that of hard liquor. Although not much of a drinker, he found himself at the bar of Stockholm’s largest nightclub far from small-town Bjärstad. Simon had recently been cheated on by his now ex-boyfriend, Marcus, and his friends decided it would be best for him to have a change of scene and perhaps, even ignite a new romance. Simon had vehemently forbidden himself from even considering the latter but ultimately, capitulated to the former as he did like the idea of dressing up, eyeliner and all. He wished to end the cycle of crying himself to sleep in crusty sweats. Though he knew he was decently attractive and thought himself to be a decent person, Marcus’s betrayal of their simplest form of trust had crushed him. Simon wasn’t enough; he was stripped of his security, and that acknowledgment made everything empty, made him empty.
As if sensing his increasingly depressive thoughts, Ayub tugged on his friend’s arm.

“Hey, that guy has been ogling at you all night!”

“Huh?”

“That guy in the suit over there.”

“Yeah right? Can’t we at least be a tad realistic?” Simon’s voice was laced with self-deprecation.

“Come on, Simon. He is staring at you right now!” Rosh cut in.

“I’m not here for this!”

“But you can be…” Ayub waggled his brows.

“I’m going to need a drink..” Simon groaned.


Except a drink turned into two which turned into four, six, eight… until the boy drank enough that he lost count.

“I am not!” Simon coughed, “I’m not…I’m not drunk!”

“Maybe it’s time to go home, dude…” Ayub could hear his friend’s obvious slurring.

“I want to dance!!”

Before his friends could stop him, Simon, now running like a toddler, stumbled onto the dance floor, falling into the arms of none other than the literal crown prince of Sweden. However, drunk Simon, who at this point could barely even remember his own name, ignored- or rather forgot- this fact.

Giggling, Simon shouted, “Aren’t you quite lavishly dressed for a nightclub, princey?”, his drunkenness clearly apparent.

Wilhelm visibly stiffened at the jab.

“Princey?”

“You look… I don’t know… posh?” He offered, “like… a prince I guess…”

He chuckled, mostly calm as he had confirmation that he had yet to be recognized.

“Are you alright?” Wilhelm flashed the boy a worried smile as even though he too indulged in alcohol, it was clear that the smaller boy was far more intoxicated.

“Never been better!”

Wilhelm cocked his head, but before he could respond, Simon continued.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been in the arms of such a hottie!”

He almost pitied the boy, recalling the familiar sting of the embarrassment of drunken words.

“Oh, really now?” His cheeks tinged pink.

“Yes, really!”

“Well, in that case, I can’t say that I’ve ever held- as you so eloquently put it- ‘such a hottie’”, he teased Simon.

“Could we dance, then?”

“I’m not really much of a dancer”

“Just follow my lead; I’ll protect you!” Simon chuckled, “Wouldn’t want princey to fall, now would we?”

If only he knew, Willie thought as he felt some unusual reassurance in the inebriated stranger’s words. They seemingly hit some chord because, at this moment, he felt he would follow this boy to the end of the world. Chalking his uncharacteristically deep thoughts to the maudlin effects of booze, Wilhelm emulated Simon’s movements.


The two danced for what felt like hours. The energetic music and unfixed lighting created a haze over the two of them. It was only them as their hands lingered, tracing each other's necks, searching chests, and gripping biceps. Simon flipped between dancing against the prince and pulling him as close as humanly possible. Currently, he favored the latter as his neck lay in the crook of Wilhelm’s neck.

“Hey?” Wilhelm’s voice beckoned Simon out of his new favorite hideaway.

“Hi,” Simon croaked.

“It kind of feels a little late for introductions, but I’d love to know your name?”

“Simon…and you?”

“Wilhelm” He puffed, a trace of a smile tickled his lips.

“Well, Wilhelm?” Simon said as if testing the way his mouth formed the name, “Would you kiss me?”

Wilhelm’s breath hitched, but slowly he nodded. Unlike their dance, the two took their time, enjoying their embrace. They pulled into one another, Simon’s hands holding Willie’s shoulders while one of Willie’s hands held his waist and the other cupped his neck. Their foreheads met, and their eyes bounced as they scanned one another’s faces. Wilhelm’s eyes clearly flickered between holding Simon’s gaze and staring at the smaller boy’s lips. Simon kissed the tip of Willie’s nose before the prince finally closed the small distance between the two of them. As their lips interlocked, Willie and Simon finally forgot the true reasons why each of them even entered the club. At the present, the only thing on either of their minds was the wave of electricity passing between the two as if a metal wire connected them-their bond serving as a conductor.

Eventually, their tongues engaged, and hands continued to roam, exploring the other boy’s bodies, but when Willie has Simon pressed against a wall, the two silently decide to leave the club.

Wilhelm called for his driver and led the two into the matte, black car as the two headed for his nearby apartment.

“I hope you’re alright with staying at mine?” Willie proposes, just now realizing he never explicitly asked Simon.

“Absolutely, you goof.”


The nightclub’s charged energy all but dissipated when the two stepped foot into Willie’s apartment.
Simon looked around in astonishment.

“I knew you were posh!!”

Willie blushed and chose to disregard that statement.

“Let’s get you into some more comfortable clothes?” Willie asks with a sweatshirt and shorts in hand.

Something about Simon wearing his clothes crushed him though. It felt domestic. It felt real. It was something he could never have, but before he could fall too deeply into his thoughts, Simon pulled him onto his couch. The two exchange a few more soft, lingering kisses prior to falling asleep in each other's arms.