How beautiful

But Simon’s muttered cursing brings him back to earth when he steps inside.

Wille is intercepting him in 3 strides.  His hands find Simon’s shoulders, gentling him to a stop. His mouth presses a kiss to the hinge of Simon’s jaw. 

“Hang up,” he whispers.

“Wille,” Simon complains, but Wille can feel the bend in him already.  

The hold music pauses for a second, like a human might be about to answer, but then it loops back to the start. Simon groans, and Wille catches it on his tongue, pulling him into a deep kiss. 

When they break apart, Simon blinks, and Wille lists the reasons for him.  It’s late spring, the sun will be out late, it will be like camping, they can get takeout, they can use each other for warmth, it’s good for the environment Simon… 

The hold music finally ends and is replaced by the magical melody of Simon’s laughter.

“Ok fine,” Simon tells him, “but you have to go get supplies.”

Wille does. 

He gets tealight candles and lines them up neatly along every window sill, all the counters.  It turns the apartment into a warm, glittering cave. 

It’s the first time he’s lit a candle anywhere he’s lived.  The fire risk to ancient paintings and school rules glimmer away into his past as he lights the candles diligently one by one while the sun sets red through the window. 

They eat burgers and fries by candlelight, and Wille puts a glow stick halo on Simon’s head, for old times sake.  He lines a crooked glowing pathway on the floor so they can find the toilet, and spells out his and Simon’s name with them in the empty bedroom.  

They don’t have much stuff yet - a sofa Linda said she didn’t need now both kids were out of home, a few stacks of Wille’s books, Simon’s desk and computer, the electric piano Wille got for his 18th birthday. They both agreed they would decorate once they were officially moved in.  Wille knows, at least for himself, that there is still a sore part of him that doesn’t like to plan too far ahead, too afraid of what might go wrong. 

They had ordered a mattress and flat pack bed frame, and it arrived in the late afternoon. Both of them were too tired to deal with instructions, so they just rip the plastic cover off the mattress and cover it with blankets and pillows. 

Simon crashes out on it, while Wille goes and blows out all the candles.  

He climbs in next to Simon.  They look through the French doors out at the lights in the neighbourhood. 

Wille finds Simon’s fingers, linking them with his own under the blankets. 

“It’s not so bad,” Simon says.  “I mean, we don’t have much yet, but it’s… nice. Just being here.”

It’s wonderful, Wille thinks.  

“Our home,” he murmurs back.