#ally writes

“Why are you so adamant that I shouldn’t wear heels tonight?” I didn’t mind taking opinions from him every once in a while, but he rarely tells me not to wear something. 

“You don’t need to make yourself taller, Yn,” he whispered, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You’re too fucking pretty for anyones good, and I don’t need the people at this party thinking they have a chance.”

There has been something off about him for the last few days anyway. He’s been more pent up than usual. A lot more… touchy. Specifically picking me up and putting me wherever he wants. Setting me on the counter while he’s cooking, picking me up and throwing me on the bed before we go to sleep. Nothing overly sexual, but it’s clear there’s been something else going on.

“What’s been up with you lately?” I ask straight up. 

“Nothing, I just don’t want you to wear heels.”

“Why don’t you want me to wear heels?”

“Because, I asked you not to.”

I tilted my head to the side. Let's see if this theory is correct. “Is it because you want me to be smaller than you?”

“Yn, don’t.”

Ding ding ding!

A smirk brightens onto my face. I’ve suspected for a while now that Harvey has a thing for how much smaller I am than him. It’s clear he’s been trying to tell me– or rather cryptically showing me by physically demonstrating so.

The grin only gets wider.

“I asked you nicely once. Don’t.”

I rolled my eyes, “Fine, you win. Be mysterious and oddly demanding about what I wear.”

Before I could even reach for the pair of heels I was planning to wear, Harvey had gripped my arm, spun me around, and his hand was around my throat.

“You know no matter what you wear, you look stunning. And if you must know, I think everyone’s focus is going to be on you anyway tonight. And I don’t need everyone staring at what’s mine.”

Oh. OH. Oh my. 

I genuinely didn’t have a response other than a shiver rolling through my body. I knew he felt it because his grip tightened, both on my hip and around my neck.

“You know you can wear whatever you want, but just know, I’m willing to deal with the consequences of anyone who looks for too long.”

“Harvey, that’s a little extreme,” I chuckle, trying to make light of a clearly serious topic for him. “What about this particular event has got you so stressed out about everyone looking at me?”

“It’s our first formal, corporate event together,” Harvey explains. “No one has ever seen you all dressed up. And I’m not sure I want them to because… fuck, Yn you looks so good tonight.” The compliment makes my heart mushy. “Harvey, you know I’d never-”

“It’s not about that. Of course I know you won’t let anything happen. It’s everyone else’s grubby little hands I’m worried about. It’s a dog eat dog mentality in the world of law. Everyone at the event is not afraid to take what they want, go after it with everything they’ve got.”

“So it’s going to be a room full of men like you? And Jessica, of course. I’m excited to meet more women like Jessica. Oh! Will–”

Harvey cuts off my question with a deep laugh. He spins me around and places his hands on my hips while he looks down at me. “I literally just told you that every man here will want to have a piece of you, and you’re more worried about meeting more women like Jessica?”

“Yup,” I nod, pressing up on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Because I know you will keep me safe.”

I watched his eyes change. The smile faded and I felt his grip tighten. Again. “Fuck Yn you always know just what to say.”

I let my arms fall around his shoulders, our fronts cradled close. “And I say lets get the fuck out of here and go party.”

~~~~~~

Ray stops the car at the base of the staircase that led up to this gorgeous venue. We were in Washington D.C. for this conference. Lawyers and other legal personnel from all over the country were invited to network and do whatever other corporate bullshit they desire. There were guest speakers, of which Jessica was invited to give a talk on her journey of being a first in class Harvard graduate.

Bad. Ass. 

There had been a convention with a ton of vendors, a cooking class, and a shitload of corporate jargon. Being in a room, albeit a very big room, with hundreds of lawyers was starting to eat away at my brain cells. I’m glad it’s the last event of the week. 

The gala. 

The streets were lined with luxurious cars and limos, guests exiting and ascending the staircase in their finest glam. Everyone looks exquisite and propper. Who doesn’t love to play dress-up every now and then?

Per Harvey’s request, I did not wear heels. I settled for a pair of black sandals with a pearled band around the ankle. They did have a small heel. Frankly everything I wore that wasn’t flip-flops had a bit of a heel to it. But they weren’t the stiletto pumps I was going to dawn instead. 

I had bought those shoes to specifically go with this dress too. And this dress… It had one inch straps that formed a square neckline. The bodice had corset paneling that was lined with sheer lace. The skirt hugged my hips and then the slit opened it up. Gorgeous. And I had a coupon. Win win. 

With my hand wrapped around Harvey’s arm, we walked in together, greeting people left and right. I was finally beginning to understand just how powerful Harvey actually is in the world of law. Everyone knows he is. Sean Evans, a guest speaker from Seattle, even knew who he was. We were watching his speech on how to give a thorough deposition, and he called Harvey out by name from the crowd.

Wild shit going on here. I was just content being arm candy all night. 

“Ahh, there he is,” Jessica calls out from the cocktail bar. “Harvey, Yn, this is Michael Bunting, one of my old professors from Harvard.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Specter. I’ve heard many things about you, glad to finally be able to meet in person,” Michael smiled pleasantly, shaking Harvey’s hand firmly. “And you must be Mrs. Specter.”

“Oh, no no I’m-”

“Not yet,” Harvey cuts in. I give him a raised eyebrow and he just winks at me. 

Well… guess we’re gonna talk about that later. 

“Let me buy you each a drink,” Michael offers. 

“No drinks for us tonight, but thank you anyway. It’s kind to offer.”

Okay, clearly Harvey has some sort of ulterior motive for later tonight because when has he ever turned down a free drink? I sort of pay attention to whatever Harvard/lawyer lingo their yapping about, but it doesn’t strike any of my interests. I see Rachel and Mike across the room so I pat Harvey on the shoulder and ditch him for her.

Before I can get a few steps, he tugs me right into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

My knees go a little weak. “Just to chat with Rachel.”

“I’ll walk you over.”

“That’s a little much, Harvey.” I ‘adjust’ his tie to give my hands something to do. “Besides, you’re chatting with that professor. I have no fucking clue what you all are talking about, and I need Rachel’s opinion on a new curling iron I was gonna buy.”

“Trust me, the last thing I want to be doing is chatting with Michael Bunting. That guy doesn’t know his left shoe from his right shoe.”

Curious, I look down at his feet. I’ll be damned. His left shoe is on his right foot. Seriously. 

“Huh, a bit ironic isn’t it? An established Harvard law professor doesn’t know which shoe belongs on what foot.”

“See where I’m getting with this? Wherever you go, I go.”

With a playful smile, I ask, “What happens when I need to go to the bathroom?”

He bends his head down and whispers in my ear. “Trust me, you don’t want me to come in there with you, sweetheart.” It doesn’t take long before a pulse settles between my thighs. Harvey just chuckles, kissing the space behind my ear. “I bet you’d like me to follow you, huh? Lock the door. Bend you over the sink. One hand in your hair, pulling it back so you have to watch in the mirror. The other covering your mouth because you don’t know how to be quiet.”

Suddenly, my curling iron questions seem inferior to what is happening. 

I knew he was pent up, but this is… this is different. 

“So yes, I will be escorting you anywhere you wanna go tonight. Understand?”

All I could manage was a nod. Harvey has always been dominant, but this is uncharted territory for our relationship. And I’m kind of fucking loving it.

He pulls away from my space and grabs my hand, dragging me behind him. Curse him and those long legs. I have to skip a step and then another one so I can stay behind him. With his shoulders blocking the way, I can’t see where we’re going. To the bathroom? A coat closet? Maybe to-

“Rachel, Mike,” he greets. I have to fight to keep the frown at bay. 

“Yn!” Rachel says elatedly. “God, you look stunning. Where did you get that dress? And those sandals are adorable!”

“Have fun,” Harvey spoke softly, kissing the back of my hand before leaving me with Rachel. 

I tell her all about the dress and the sandals, and about Harvey not wanting me to wear heels. And the… context to it as well. She had a knowing smirk on her face. Mike left us to our devices after he heard her say ‘I think you’re going to need to take a sick day after what Harvey is going to do to you’.

Oh how I wish she’s right. 

“I mean, is it that bad?”

“Is what that bad?” She quirks her head to the side, sipping whatever pink, goddess looking cocktail she has. It literally has glitter in it.

“The height difference.”

Her eyes scan me up and down, “Well, it’s certainly more apparent without the heels, that’s for sure. But I mean it’s cute. He’s like a head and a half taller than you.”

“It’s like standing next to a giraffe. I know Harvey isn’t that tall, I think I’m just that short, you know? It’s annoying. I have to look so far up at him. And I had the cutests shoes I was gonna wear with this dress. ‘Till mister ‘I can reach the top shelf everywhere’ told me not to.”

Rachel snorted, a drop or two or seven of her cocktail spewing out from her lips. “Yn, you look hot no matter what you wear. And if Donna was here to scold you, she’d say something along the lines of ‘there isn’t anything a bit of pouty lips and fuck me eyes can’t do’. So, since Donna isn’t here, go give Harvey some pouty lips and fuck me eyes.”

I just smile. I love Rachel so much. “I would go find him, but he might pull me into a backroom and literally beat my ass. He walked me over here just so he wouldn’t lose sight of me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Both of us laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but it is kinda true. I could easily disappear and no one would notice. Literally. I might be the smallest one here and it would be easy to stick to the wall and–

“Excuse me, ladies, but might one of you point me in the direction of the nearest balcony?”

I looked over my shoulder to a man who had a charming smile. His hair was combed back and he had on a tux. As if it would help, I stood on my toes and tried to look for one, but legit couldn’t see a thing. 

Rachel had a nasty look on her face. I looked between the two of them, waiting for… something to happen.

“Zane.”

“It’s Ross, actually. But I’m sure you already knew that, Tanner.”

“Uhh–” they clearly know each other.

“Who’s your friend?” This Tanner guy asks. He looks at me and takes a sip of his drink. 

“You don’t need to know, beat it.”

Oh, so this is obviously an ex or something. He looks a little older, but who am I to judge?

“I’m Travis Tanner,” he extends a hand. “An old friend of the frim.”

“Take your sleazy hands somewhere else, Tanner,” Rachel takes a step towards him, standing shoulder to shoulder with me.

“Relax, Ross,” he says. “I’m just trying to talk to her. I didn’t ask for her hand in holy matrimony. Go find that little associate of yours so I can buy her a drink.”

I felt a presence behind me, then an arm slip around my waist. The cologne I picked out earlier this morning wafted around me and I let myself lean into Harvey. 

“Say one more thing to her and I’ll put you on the floor, Tanner.”

I have never heard Harvey sound so threatening. 

I watched his brown eyes go from me, and then distinctly up to Harvey. “Of course.”

That grip around my hip tightened and I laid my palm over his hand to get him to relax. It did nothing. “Rachel, would you mind going to find Mike for me? I need to ask him a few questions on what the expected sentence time is for a man who is about to make another unrecognizable to his face ID.”

“Gladly,” she says, marching off to my left. 

“Darling, you’re seriously with a man who is verbally threatening to beat the shit out of another?”

“I’m about to get a whistle and referee the match because I think Harvey would like to go a few rounds with you,” I state my view on the matter. 

Travis grins at me. “I see why you like her. She’s feisty, can pack a punch in that small frame of hers.”

I can feel Harvey take a deep, steadying breath. “My love?”

“Hmm?” I look up at him.

“Get behind me.”

“Harvey–” He gently unwinds his arm around my waist and steps in front of me. The taught muscles in his shoulders pop out through his shirt. He ditched his jacket somewhere along the way.

I look over to my left just as Rachel finds Mike. She whispers something to him and I watch as his whole face changes. He whips his head around and we lock eyes. With his drink forgotten on the small bar-top table, he heads for our direction.

“Make a comment about my girl again, and I swear to God I will knock your teeth out.”

“Relax, Harvey. Why don’t you ask her what she would like to do. You seem to be awfully keen on making decisions for her,” Travis suggests. What a cocky son of a bitch. Does he actually think I’d give up Harvey for him? What a fucking joke. 

“I think you’re right,” Harvey agrees. He steps to the side just as Mike gets there. “What do you think, sweetheart? Would you like to sucker punch him or shall I?”

I can’t help the evil look that crosses my face. Instead of answering him, I simply grab a hold of his tie and yank his lips down to mine. He answers with a vicious bite, groaning into my mouth. His palm finds my neck, not being shy about the show. 

When I pull away, I’m left breathless and more than a little turned on. I know my lipstick is smudged to hell because I can see it on Harvey’s mouth. With a wicked smirk, I turn to Travis, who is red all over. “I think I’d just rather show him all he’ll never be able to touch.”

Harvey, again, plants himself behind me, but keeps his hand wrapped around my throat. “You heard her, Tanner. If I were you, I’d probably try, too. She is one of a kind. But she’s mine. She lives in my home. Eats the meals I cook for her. Wears my shirt after I’ve fucked her until she’s whimpering my name. She’ll have my ring on her finger one day. Have my last name. ‘Yn Specter’ sounds a whole lot better than ‘Yn Tanner’, don’t you think? So, while you still have your dignity–no matter how many times I have to take it from you in court–I suggest you get the fuck out of here. Now. And if I ever hear of you talking about her, I’ll break more than your teeth.”

Everyone had a look of shock across their face. Including me. 

Without a parting word, Tanner left. I felt Harvey let out a breath as he dropped his hand from my throat. 

I breathed a sigh of relief. Mostly for the fact that I didn’t have to call the police to report a homicide and then run off into the sunset to escape for being a possible accomplice. 

“Well,” Mike scratches the back of his head, clearing his throat. “That was certainly… something.”

“What the hell is going on over here?” Jessica steps into our circle. “And why the hell did I just see Travis Tanner practically sprinting towards the exit?”

“He tried to put the hots on Yn,” Rachel has the most sinister look on her face. I give her a look that screams ‘really?’. She just mouths ‘good dick tonight’ before winking at me. 

Is it bad I was already thinking the same thing?

“What the hell did you say to him?” Jessica asks Harvey.

“Trust me you do not wanna know,” Mike says before Harvey has the chance to elaborate. “I think I need to go bleach my ears.”

Rachel just laughs at him. “We’ll see you guys back at the office on Monday.”

As they leave, Jessica looks at the two of us expectantly. “Well?”

“Just be thankful that what came out of his mouth didn’t become reality. Otherwise there might be a lawsuit on your hands,” I explained. “I took care of it.”

“So what I’m hearing is I should hire you to defuse all of the fires Harvey tends to ignite?”

I giggle, stepping into his side. “I think that spark is the exact reason you hired him in the first place.”

Harvey glances down at me, a fond, proud look in his eyes. He kisses the top of my head. “Plus, if you hired her, I’m not sure my production value would go up.”

“Well, now that that image is burned into my head, I’m gonna go drink it away. Oh, and Harvey?”

“Yes?”

“The next time you get the chance to punch Travis Tanner in the face, don’t hesitate.”

I stared at Jessica in disbelief, jaw to the floor. “I knew I liked her.”

“Yn,” Harvey spins me around to face him. He takes my face in his hands, scanning my eyes back and forth. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, he was just–”

“Did he try to touch you? Did he actually touch you?” 

I remove his hands from my face, grasping them in my own. “No, Harvey. He didn’t. I’m not sure Rachel would’ve let him take another step anyway. Who is that guy? Why do we all collectively hate his guts?

“I’ll tell you on the way home.”

“We’re leaving?”

“Fuck yes,” he hooks two fingers in his tie and yanks it loose. “I can’t stand being here anymore and I can’t stand seeing men gawk at what’s mine either.”

“Harvey, I don’t think everyone is gawking at me.”

So fast the room blurs, he pins my back to his front and grips my chin. “Just look around, Yn. Notice how everyone is sneaking glances at you? Even if they're with a date, everyone has their eyes on you. They always have their eyes on you. Fuck Yn… you have no idea just how easily you could bring all of them to their knees.”

“The only man in this room I want to see on their knees is you while you're between mine.”

Hearing the tremor in his breath does more things to me than I’d care to admit. “You’re gonna regret saying that. Let's go.”

~~~~~

On the car ride back, Harvey explains everything that has to do with Travis Tanner. Safe to say I am now a certified hater. What a fucking cunt. An actual asshole. And now knowing that he’s crossed and fucked with so many people I love and care about? Next time I see him I’ll put my fist through his face. 

Bitch. 

Enough thinking about this dick-wad. I have Harvey literally dragging me down the hallway from the elevator to his door. He shoves the key in on the first try (thank god) and slams it closed. My skin is on fire with a need for his lips all over me. 

I don’t care where. 

I need him everywhere. 

He easily picks me up and bends me over the side of the couch. Harvey’s hands carefully remove my sandals, placing kisses up my calves as he goes. Those skilled fingers of his move my skirt out of the way, pushing it up over my ass. 

He pauses. And I grin. 

“You are such a little devil, aren’t you?” A single finger trails up the inside of my thigh. Then a hand cracks down on my ass. My very bare ass. Did I purposefully not wear anything underneath? Yes. I absolutely did. 

“I figured you wouldn’t want to waste time.”

“Please,” he scoffs, “getting the privilege of undressing you is no waste of time.”

My heart aches. How could I have gotten a man with the most perfect mix of worship and corruption?

Harvey stands and presses his need into me. “Feel that? God Yn, you have no fucking clue what you do to me, do you? It still amazes me every time, how you take me so well.”

“I just like being good for you,” I admit. He grinds his hips harder, pushing me deeper over the couch. 

“Yeah? Gonna be good and take it, huh?” I nod as best I can. “Yeah, I know you will. On your knees first, pretty girl.”

There isn’t anything I’m not willing to do for Harvey when he calls me his pretty girl. It’s just a fact. 

Heat courses through me as I sink to my knees, staring at him. All the way up… Fuck he is so much bigger than I am. This might be the first time I’m truly noticing it. 

One button at a time, he undoes his shirt. He throws it to the side, making a show of the belt next.

“Give me your hands.” I give my wrists to him, watching carefully as he folds the belt into a figure-eight and gives it a tug into place. “Now open up, tongue out.”

A rough hand on my chin makes me open my mouth wide, tongue rolling out. He rolls his against his cheek, then spits in my mouth. The whimper I let out is embarrassing. I can’t help the flush that burns up my neck and to my cheeks. 

“You’re fucking mine.”

I’m breathless as he shoves down his dress pants and boxers. I don’t even get a chance to admire him before Harvey shoves all the way down my throat. Tears sting my eyes when I gag, but the feeling of him against my tongue outweighs my need for air. 

“For every tear that rolls down your pretty little face, I’m gonna make you cum that many times.”

Oh dear God…

Okay, I have to focus. 

I am careful about my breath control. Between the taste and the sound of him it’s incredibly difficult to focus on anything other than the outrageous throbbing between my legs. 

“Fuck, just like that pretty girl. Keep taking it so well and I’ll give you anything you want.”

He knows how to make my brain melt. I relax, letting him all the way down. He stays there, pelvis to my nose for a few seconds. I know he likes watching the tears form in my eyes, so I look up at him. 

“Aww, I know it’s so big for you. But you’re doing such a good job, Yn. Just a little more then I’ll give you what you really want. F-Fuck that feels so good.”

I grin internally, knowing he loves it when I press my tongue up onto the underside of his dick. I do it a few more times while he thrusts in and out, more than enjoying hearing him fall apart. 

For a few minutes, he rocks in and out. An abundance of praise falling from his lips. Telling me how pretty I look, explaining how I’m his and only his to see like this. I’d have no one else ever again. He has ruined me for anyone else. 

Precisely how I want it. 

“You wanna cum, don’t you, pretty thing?” Harvey mocks, grabbing my hair at the root and nodding it for me. “Yeah I know you do, you love it when I make you cum. Show me those tears, baby. As many as you want. Wanna make you feel so fucking good.”

When the tip of his cock hits the back of my throat, I choke. And he does it again, eyes trained on mine. I feel the tears swell up. Not too many, I’d like to be able to walk tomorrow. 

On purpose, he does it again. And again. And again until twin tears are rolling down my cheeks. One from each eye. 

“Two? Come on, I think you want more than that, don’t you?” I shake my head no, but he doesn’t let up. “If you don’t want more, then don’t let any others slip, sweetheart. I’m not done fucking your mouth yet.”

It’s relentless. His pace is nothing short of brutal, and it takes everything in me not to start sobbing. I tried to close my eyes, but he ripped his dick out of me so fast I almost fell over.

“Did I fucking tell you to close your eyes?”

“N-No Harvey,” I whisper. 

“Then keep them open.”

I have no choice but to obey. Somehow, I don’t let anymore breach the boundaries of my lashes. He didn’t wanna finish down my throat, so he pulled out and brought me to my feet. He thumbs my swollen lips, and I gently suck his finger. 

“You are gonna be the death of me, woman.”

“What a way to go,” I chide, earning myself a smack on the ass.

“Bed. Now.”

“Yes sir,” I respond, relishing the way his eyes darken. He removes the belt from my wrists, kissing the red marks. He picks me up, wraps my legs around his hips, and walks us to our room. 

The air in there is cold and my skin breaks into goosebumps. Or maybe it’s just the way he’s kissing me. Like he's worried I’m not real, some dream he’s going to wake up from. Desperate. Needy. Deprived. His hands grab around my waist and he throws me off of him. I land on the bed, about to prop myself up before he grabs my ankles and yanks me to the end of the bed. 

For a few moments, he just stares at me, guiding my legs open against the bed. His eyes ravaged me. An expression I’ve never quite seen before washes over him. His palms swallow my thighs. He pushes, pushes, pushes until they’re flat against the covers. Harvey goes to say something, but retracts it. 

“What, Harvey?”

He looks up at me like it’s the first time he’s seen me naked. And it is most certainly not the first time he’s seen me naked. 

“You’re just… fuck Yn you are so small compared to me.”

“I knew you had a thing for it,” I confirmed my hunch. 

“Seeing you tonight, without the heels on… it just did something to me. Something visceral. Something carnal. Knowing I can so easily do anything I want…”

Harvey knelt to the floor. The first brush of his tongue on my core made me sigh. He knows exactly what I like, what drives me crazy. And I have two orgasms coming my way tonight. No pun intended. 

I let my eyes close gently as he explores me. He reaches up and pinches a nipple between his fingers and it’s an effort to not writhe around. But his other palm is flat on my stomach, pinning me in place. I look down, seeing just how fucking big his hand is. Fucking hell–

“H-Harvey,” I gasp, feeling pressure build in my core, at the base of my spine. The tips of my fingers and toes begin to tingle. 

“Cum whenever you want, sweetheart.”

His permission is all I need. I let myself relax back, indulging in the freedom of his pleasure. I shiver when he sucks my clit hard, and I can see the grin on his face. Harvey spreads my legs far apart and keeps the exact pressure and motion of his tongue. I shake apart, endless praises falling from my lips. 

Harvey stops before it creeps into overstimulation and rises over me. I can smell myself on his lips when he kisses me, and the taste of my own release makes my brain fog with desire. 

I fist my hands in his hair, trailing kisses down his neck and chest. His physique drives me insane. Yes, he could absolutely do anything he wanted to me so easily. It fills me with the most delicious type of fear and desire. 

“Lay back down,” he commands. I comply without further instruction. I need to feel him. 

“Please, Harvey,” I beg. 

“Please what? Use your words, sweetheart. I can’t give you what you need if you don’t tell me. Or are you too fucked out? I still have to make you cum a second time, and you’re already begging for it? Pathetic, Yn. ”

A tremble rolls through me and I whimper. It’s the strain, the grit in his voice that makes it worse. “Need you to fuck me so good.”

“Yeah? You need me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours, baby?”

“Mhmm,” I nod, spreading my legs for emphasis. “Need it so bad. I’ve been so good for you tonight.”

“Yes you have. Wanna cum on my cock?”

“F-Fuck Harvey please,” I plead. 

I watch as he lines up with my pussy, and as he pushes in. He’s slow, draw it out so I feel every inch of him. Makes me as restless as possible. 

“Keep taking it, you can handle it. Stop whining, you slut. You love it. I know how much you crave me inside you. Just like that, sweetheart, just a little more.”

Harvey hooks his hands under my knees and pushes them flat against my sides, getting as deep as he can. He also pins my hands under them so I can’t move. With slow rolls of his hips into mine, I’m forced to take him all the way. I can feel him everywhere. It’s the most amazing type of overwhelming. The muscles in his abs and thighs ripple with every thrust and it drives me fucking insane. 

He laughs at me. Mocks me. 

“You are so cute like this. So adorable split open on my cock,” he coos, dragging his right hand all over my body. It cups my neck, then he plays with my chest. I lean into the touch, wondering how much more I can take before I shake apart. 

“Please make me cum, Harvey. Need it so bad,” I ask desperately. It’s a need I’ve never had before. “Fuck please please please.”

“You really wanna cum, don’t you, baby? You’ve been my good girl all night long. Doing exactly what I say. I think you deserve it.” The brush of his finger against my clit rips a scream from my throat. I was unprepared for just how much I was going to be able to feel it. It was so much. Borderline too much. Pleasure melted in and out of pain. But my body needed it. I wanted it so much. 

“Oh fuck,” I cried out, unable to sit still. I got a reprimanding smack to my thigh. 

“Hold still.”

My thighs went back to being flat, one of his arms pinning both of them. It was relentless. He was not going to stop until I came so hard the neighbors three floors below heard me scream his name. 

I was a mess when I came. My body bowed off the bed, physically unable to be stable. I wiggled around, fought against Harvey for even an inch of room to get away from his torture. 

“You’ll be done cumming when I say so. And I’m not fucking done with you.”

“Oh god Harvey please,” I begged. “F-Fuck fuck fuuuuck.”

I took a full breath only when he stopped rubbing my clit, just for a second while he pulled out and spat on my pussy. If I wasn’t numb from pleasure, I would’ve probably come a third time. He filled me up again, not being careful this time. 

I lay limp, content to let him use me in any way he wanted. He kept my legs up, fucking me hard. He didn’t care about whether or not I was feeling good. He knew he did his job. More than enough for me. Time to make him feel good. As best I could, I clenched around him. His palms splayed over my stomach, pressing firmly. 

His hips faltered. 

“God damn, Yn. I can fucking feel how big I am inside you. I bet you can feel it too. So fucking deep in there, and you’re being such a good girl. Taking it all and not complaining. My perfect little fuck toy, huh? Yeah you were made for me. Gonna fill you up so good.”

He flipped me over on my stomach, hiking up my hips so my ass sat in the cradle of his hips. He pinned my head down and fucked me harder than he ever has. His nails dug into my skin. I knew my ass was going to be bright red from the crack of his palm against my skin. 

“God you are so perfect, Yn. Such a good little slut. Gonna take it all? Not gonna spill a drop?” He yanked me up by my hair. I cried out a no, mind going a little stupid now. As if it wasn’t before. “Oh fuck–”

His hips stilled, and I could feel him throbbing inside me. He was buried all the way, and it felt too good. I tried to crawl away, but pulled me right back, fucking me on his cock. Nails raked down my back, and he chuckled when I shivered.

“Good girl, fucking such a good girl for me, Yn. You took me so well, sweetheart. You’re stretched so tight around me too, feel that?” The tip of Harvey’s finger trailed around my entrance and I hiccuped for a breath, a few stray tears spilling over. “Aww, you’re struggling so hard to keep it in. Come here.”

Harvey dragged me backwards so I sat in his lap. I let my head lull against his shoulder and went limp. 

“God I am still so hard…” Gently, Harvey fucked me on his cock. I moaned absently, too tired and spent to care. “You are so fucking amazing, Yn. My good girl. I’m the only who gets to fuck this pussy, you hear me? Your pussy is mine to fill. I’ll never get sick of watching you fall apart at my hands.”

“All yours,” I say, voice a little raw from screaming. 

“All mine.”

Vaguely I feel him slide me off his cock. I’m pretty sure he carried me to the bathroom because the next thing I know I’m in the tub with him gently cleaning me. His hands are soft, careful to avoid my most sensitive areas. It’s all gentle kisses and tender touches. Not only can he break me down, he always puts me back together. Brings me back to a safe, caring, loving reality. 

“Are you still awake, my love?” Harvey asks, running a brush through my wet hair. 

“Not for much longer if you keep massaging my head like that,” I smile, feeling all warm and fuzzy in his hands. 

“Do you need anything before we go to sleep?” Harvey asks. “It wasn’t too much for you, right?”

I shake my head, “No, of course not. Would’ve told you if it was. I liked it. A lot.”

“Good good.” I can feel his grin as he kisses both of my cheeks. “I’m glad you enjoyed it as much as I did.”

“If I had known sooner, I would’ve stopped wearing heels long ago,” I teased, finally opening up my eyes. 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he smiled, that big goofy grin I fell in love with. “Ready for bed?”

“Mhm,” I humm. “I could use some water. And maybe a snack.”

“Blueberries and a chocolate chip cookie?”

“God you know me so well,” I swoon. I kiss my lips together, a silent demand for him to meet me halfway. Without hesitation, he does, then helps me into bed before going to the kitchen. When he returns, Harvey climbs into bed with me. I just look at him for a moment, really taking him in. 

“I love you, Harvey.”

Of course, you never really thought you could pull in Elvis Presley. Maybe before he was famous, when he was just a nervous little boy in Memphis. But as soon as they started playing his records all across the United States? Oh that was supposed to be a lost cause, a foregone wish upon a star. Yet, here you were, dating him and falling faster and faster into a hole you're thinking is deep unending love for this man. If you could, if he'd let you- you'd be going on tour with him. You'd find yourself in a cramped little car with him and the boys just so you could make sure he's yours. The first tour he had to take right after you kissed for the time almost ended up with you in the car because he was worried you'd forget about him while he was gone.

As if you could forget those plush lips that molded so perfectly against your own mouth. As if you could forget those plush lips that left a hickey or five across your breasts and one plainly on your neck. It might have painted you to be a bit of a harlot and a loose girl, but you couldn't have cared. Not when you were dating Elvis Presley. Not when you had what other girls begged and prayed for at the sides of their beds every night.

The funny thing about dating Elvis though, the funny thing you never thought would be an issue is that other men seemed to take it as a challenge. Those same boys who would cast you aside for having a wandering eye if they were with you wanted you to look their way.

Elvis isn't around, they'd joke as they'd place unwanted hands on your arm.

You deserve a guy who's dependable and here with you, they'd tell you with smiles that never quite reach their eyes.

You deserve a guy who'd never cheat on you or look at another girl, they'd assure you and it was always then that you laughed.

Elvis always promises to tell you what happens on the road and he knows better. There was one time he had slipped and even though you never take a man back after he slips like that, you do it for Elvis. Not because you lower your standards, but because it doesn't happen in front of you. You aren't forced to face the girl he thinks is prettier every single day. Besides, his apology when he arrived home more than made up for it.

Elvis is due to come back today and he's told you a million and one times about the night he has planned for the two of you, one with friends a good ole time before the two of you would run and retreat away to his bedroom. Sure, his mama might have something to say about it, but you're his girl and you make him as happy as anything. She wouldn't tell you to go home or sleep in another room.

The problem is that the world doesn't always run on Elvis time and how sometimes trips on the road take just a little longer than they should so you have to be a good host with his mama. You're in a dress you bought especially for Elvis's homecoming and it fits you in the way you know he likes. In a way you know most men like, but that's just something you have to live with for right now. Besides, you figure no one would be stupid enough to try anything now that Elvis is right in front of them.

You probably should have known better.

The whistle is what catches your attention first, your ears and body well trained to hear and to turn at Elvis's low whistle when it came to your body.

"You only wear things like that for him?" You hear the man say before you fully turn around and realize that it's not Elvis whistling for you at all. You think it's one of his friends- more like an acquaintance you imagine but you've learned it's best not to ask Elvis about how he knows some people after the last time both you and his mama ended up wondering who someone was at what was supposed to be a neighborly affair.

Your jaw tightens just a hair before you manage to smile the sort of pretty smile that's at least somewhat expected of you as a good Southern girl. "Considerin' we're goin' steady I'd hope so. Bet your girl'd do the same thing."

"Only girl I want-" He starts to tell you before you see his eyes widen just a hair and you feel a firm grip around your waist. "Elvis- I-"

"I heard ya. Heard the whistle, too." Elvis's voice is pitched low in a way you're not quite used to hearing. Against your will, you feel goosebumps cover your skin as a rush of desire swoops low in your stomach. "Didn't ya mama teach ya to not steal? Know you've been to church 'nough to learn it at least."

The man for a moment looks offended and as if he wants to fight or argue with Elvis before he grits his teeth. "I wasn't- You know I wouldn't do that. She's your girl, even if you leave her alone like you do."

Against your neck you feel the warmth of Elvis's exhale against your skin, knowing that was the wrong thing for the man to say. Knowing that short of insulting his mama pointing out that Elvis has to leave you to go on tour to make money for himself and his family was the worst thing he could have done. Your hand moves to grasp at Elvis's own only to be rebuffed as Elvis moves from behind you.

"Do I know ya wouldn't do that? Thought I could trust ya t'come to my homecomin', thought ya wouldn't try anythin' with my girl. Not that she'd want anythin' from ya, not when she's got me, right darlin'?" He glances back at you with eyes darker than you've ever seen them. A rough exhale leaves your body before you nod.

"Not a damn thing."

Elvis's lips curl into a bit of a smile before he turns back to the man. "Ya heard it straight from her lips. Now, get outta here or 'm gonna have to- Gonna have to make her watch me hit ya or somethin'."

Normally Elvis trying to act tough and rough like he's James Dean or Marlon Brando wouldn't excite you but there's something about the way the man walks off that has your body heating up and your breath exiting your body in pants. Your eyes glance around to see if anyone's watching what just happened only to find that everyone is too preoccupied with food and talking among each other.

"Sorry 'bout that darlin'-" Elvis starts to speak, apologizing in a murmur as if anyone else hearing it would cause a scene. He stops when he notices how you're breathing. How your eyes are looking at him and he can't help but smirk just a little. "Somethin' wrong?"

Somethin' wrong, he asks, like he can't half read you like a book when you get aroused. Any other time and you're certain you'd likely find some way to wipe that little smirk off his face. Right now? You manage a slight glare at his plush lips before your arm moves up to pull at Elvis's shirt just a tiny bit. That tiny bit is just enough to have his lips hovering over yours.

"Only thing that was wrong just left." You pause, exhaling ever so softly. "But he might still be watching."

One of Elvis's eyebrows shoots up slowly before he chuckles, moving the two of you just enough so that his mouth slides against yours in what he means to be a soft gentle kiss. You don't want a soft gentle kiss though, and can't help the way your tongue presses against the seam of his lips, almost pleading for entry. He answers your plea quicker than you think he will, opening his mouth just so and sliding his tongue against yours. Your teeth move to nip at his lips, wanting to make them red as you do when the two of you are alone. The two of you are in public and that should remind you that you should stop, that you should have some form of decorum so that you aren't making an utter fool of yourself in front of his mother and in front of everyone and yet as you feel his hands move down your body you forget about that. The press of his hands against your torso, grasping as if he's scared you'll disappear have you forgetting that with every passing millisecond.

A quiet whine leaves your lips as he pulls away, his chest not quite heaving in an effort to catch the breath you've stolen from him with your mouth. His eyes dance across your face and down your body before he pulls you close again, not to kiss you but to whisper something to you.

"You're all mine, ain't ya?" There's an undertone that sounds like he's not sure of himself and yet at the same time, he utters it not like the question it is, but like it's a definitive fact. "Always gonna be mine even if I ain't here to fight 'em off?"

Being demure isn't your strong suit but something about those words, something about hearing those words come from Elvis who can be such a shy man despite every single thing he does on stage has you batting your eyelashes like you've seen your friends do a million times before. A nod follows. "Of course. I might not- I might not have your ring 'round my neck, but I am." Your teeth start to worry at your lip, nipping at it in a minor fit of nervousness. "But it- It wouldn't hurt to show people right now that I'm yours. Just by taking me away for a little bit."

Elvis blinks at you, almost as if he's confused before that smirk he had when you first kissed him slides back onto his face. "Darlin', are ya tryin' to get me to leave my own party? That my mama's at? That ya spent so long puttin' together?"

The speed at which your answer comes out of your mouth should embarrass you but there's something about Elvis that sometimes does this to you. That sometimes has that embarrassment sliding right out the window. "I am. I am because now I'm- I'm a bit- I've missed you. And-"

A low laugh leaves his lips. "And what we do together? Missed having to cover up my kisses with make up? Missed walkin' a little crooked?"

You feel your face at heat up at the implication of his last words even as you shift in place just a little. "I mean, if you don't want to give me that- I can go to him instead. I think I can-"

If you didn't know any better you'd have sworn you hear a growl that has you stopping your words dead in their tracks before Elvis practically bellows to everyone. "We'll be right back, gotta- Gotta have a private conversation with my girl."

There's a murmur amongst the crowd and as you pass by Mrs. Presley you swear you hear her sigh so deeply at his actions that you know you will never live this down. Any dread you have for that future talking to his quickly pushed to the side as Elvis grips your hand and practically drags you to the house and up the stairs. You barely get inside the bedroom before you feel his hands moving to push up your dress and find their way under your underwear.

"Mama- Darlin'- This all for me?" He croons, moving his fingers in between your legs in a way that has you curling your toes. "How- How long you been-"

A kiss from you cuts off his question as you moan a little into it. Your hands move to undo his belt, trying to free his uncut length from the confines of his pants. "Since you told- Since you made him leave."

Him, the man who thought he could move in on you because Elvis wasn't there. Him, who thought Elvis wasn't as possessive as you were. Him, who thought you were easy pickings.

"Oh darlin'," Elvis groans a little as your hand wraps around his cock, pulling back the skin slowly. "Let- Let me show them whose you are. Let me show'em you're all mine. Gonna always be mine."

You hum and laugh a little at the words. Was there ever really any doubt you were his? That you would always be his? Maybe in his mind and maybe in yours for a while there was, but- now it seems silly. It seems so silly that you're gonna run off with someone or that even if he's got a million flings on the road that he'll run off with them. Your eyes meet Elvis's blue ones and for a moment you see doubt written clear as day in them. See Elvis acting like the shy boy his mama swears he's been once upon a time. His mouth starts to open, and you silence whatever words were about to escape with a kiss and a tightening of your grip on his cock.

"Show 'em. I'll- I can be loud for 'em. Let 'em hear what you do to me." You mutter as you pull away from the kiss panting.

Elvis smirks like he sometimes does on stage to get all those girls riled up as he lifts you up with a slight grunt and pushes you against the door of the room. "Yeah? Gonna make everyone jealous?"

The words you want to say die on your lips as his lips start to make their way across your neck, nipping and sucking along it and down to your chest while he enters you with a swiftness that has you letting out a loud moan. You think it ought to sting just from how you haven't enjoyed him for a while and how girthy he feels and yet it doesn't. All you feel is the pleasure of cock against your clit and inside your vagina. There's a bit of a noise that you don't realize what it is until you realize it's coming from between your legs every time he moves his cock in and out.

A groan leaves Elvis's mouth when he looks down and realizes the same thing you did. "Makin'- Gonna ruin these pants with all that." The words are stuttered out against your chest as you let out a laugh that quickly turns into another moan as you try and grab at his back, your nails digging into the skin through his shirt just a bit.

"That's- The point." You whimper as you feel your walls start to flutter around him and feel your clit pulsing. "Gotta- God- E-"

The words feel like mush trying to come out your mouth as your brain zeroes in on the feel of Elvis's cock in you, the pants of his breath and the grunts and groans you know everyone can hear. The two of you should be quieter but you can't. You want everyone to know you're his and he's yours as you both come. Still, you know he can't come inside you- not yet, not unless there's a ring on your finger. His parents and your parents can forgive a lot but not that. You move to yank at his hair just slightly, your toes curling at the whine that leaves his lips at the sensation of being pulled away from your chest.

"What're ya-" He starts before you shake your head.

"You gotta pull out. Gotta make sure you do. Can't possess me like that just yet." Your voice is a whisper against his lips as you kiss him once more. "Don't- don't do it."

Elvis's breath comes out in a harsh exhale through his nose at the comment and you swear you hear him grumble something about how he ought to possess you like that, how you'd look good like that and how no one'd think you're not his with that. He does what you ask though, even as your vagina clenches around his cock only for it to be replaced by his fingers. A shudder runs through you as his thumb presses against your clit and his fingers curl just enough for you to shout out his name despite trying to muffle it.

As you feel yourself trembling you can hear the slide of Elvis's hand against his cock and within moments you feel the warm sensation of his cum against your lower stomach and your pubic bone. You shouldn't find it arousing and yet, the feeling has your clit aching as if you hadn't already come just a minute before.

It takes a few minutes of the two of you just panting and trying to catch your bearings against the door before either one of you says another word.

"I should clean-" You start before Elvis cuts you off.

"No. You're- You're gonna pull up your underwear and you're gonna stay like that till tonight. Till all of 'em are gone. Gotta- Gotta make sure they know."

Your mouth opens to tell him no, and then you feel how his grip tightens on your body just a tad. He had been away from you for so long and well- maybe this wasn't the worst thing for you to give to him.

"You gonna clean me up later?" A simple question that you ask while looking down at his lips.

"Every last drop, darlin'."

“It’s five till six.” 

“Okay?” Simon questioned as he slid into his seat, not understanding Mikael’s meaning. 

“You’re early,” Mikael pointed out, frowning. 

“It happens,” Simon shrugged. It didn’t, really. “On occasion.”

“Wille is late,” Mikael said, in the same tone of voice as his prior observation. Simon narrowed his eyes at Mikael, trying to figure out why their timing was of concern to him. Sometimes they were early, and sometimes they were late. Very rarely were they both on time. Until very recently, Simon had been busy with school more often than not, and Wille’s schedule with royal family bullshit was constantly in flux. 

“Not yet.” 

It was silent for a long time. Maybe minutes. Simon and Mikael just existed together in companionable silence until finally, out of the blue, Mikael said, “Wille is late”. 

Simon tapped his phone. He couldn’t help but flash a smile at his new wallpaper – a picture of him and Wille taken a few weeks prior, singing karaoke together to celebrate his graduation. 

“It’s 6:01,” Simon read.

“Mmm. Late,” Mikael hummed, raising a bushy eyebrow at Simon, wordlessly conveying his concern, before turning away to work. 

Simon considered this along with all the rest of the reasons why he felt uncomfortable. Their arrival times wouldn’t usually be something of concern, but for whatever reason, it was today, when the balance of the universe felt noticeably off-kilter. 

At 6:08, Wille finally appeared in a frenzy, out of breath and looking a little dazed. 

“You’re late,” Mikael declared. Wille shook his head, waving a hand dismissively.

“Like five minutes, Mikael, jeez. it’s fine.” 

“Are you okay?” Simon asked, frowning deeply as he tried to make sense of Wille’s distress. 

“I met someone,” Wille said, and he broke out into a smile brighter than Simon had seen in a long, long time. 

And Simon’s already fractured heart shattered. 

Mikael instantly lost interest in Wille’s excuse. He rolled his eyes and walked away to address some other patrons. Not before shooting Simon a separate, undiscernible look.

Meanwhile, Simon tried as hard as he could to make sure he was wearing an appropriate expression. He tried to look excited and interested, which was proving to be a struggle when everything inside of him wanted to scream. 

“Oh?” Simon asked, only because he knew he was supposed to ask the follow-up question. Even if he already knew all he cared to know. 

“Mmm,” Wille nodded, excitedly. He was beaming like a kid at Christmas, the type of joy that was usually contagious. Of course, when this was the subject matter, Simon was immune. “They work in the palace. In the kitchen. We were organizing some dinner, and I got to talking with them and… Well, we were both working, but I wanted to keep the conversation going so I gave them my number. They called me later that night, and we talked until the morning.”

“Wow,” was all Simon could manage.

“I know,” Wille sighed. His eyes were practically enlarged cartoon hearts. Simon thought he might be sick. “I don’t think I’ve ever talked with someone that long. Aside from… well, you, I guess.”

“So…” Simon coughed, not wanting to dwell and let himself overthink Wille’s observation. “Are you guys… like, official?” 

“No,” Wille answered, shaking his head a little. “I don’t think so. Well, honestly? I don’t even know if they like guys. I mean. I’m interested. Very interested. But, you know, technically, they work for me.” 

“Right, well. That’s a big conflict of interest.”

“I don’t see them staying with us long, though.” 

“Oh?”

“God, that sounded awful. I just mean that they want to open up a restaurant soon. Like, fine dining, Michelin stars kinda thing.” 

“I guess your Mamma would like that. I don’t know much about the food industry, but it’s a pretty big status thing.” 

“Well. We’ll see. I’m going to hold off telling my mother as long as I can.” 

“Why?”

“Well, I just remember how difficult she was with Daniel. And that only lasted a few months, and we kept things super private.” 

“Oh, so your chef is a guy?”

“No, Sage is non-binary. Which might be worse for my family, in some ways. I don’t think Mamma even knows what any of that means. Let alone the rest of Sweden.” 

“I guess you’re kinda serious about this. If you are already thinking about going public…” 

“I just have this feeling, Simon. I can’t explain it. I just feel so… Excited. I’ve never felt like this with someone before.”

“I’m happy for you,” Simon said, willing himself more than ever to actually mean it.  

“God, I can’t wait for you to meet them. You’ll love them, I just know it.”  

• ────── ✾ ────── •

June 2029

Simon was home in Bjärstad for Midsommar, feeling oversized and out of place in his childhood bedroom. It was a fitting feeling for the immense sense of wrongness he was still trying to fight. 

He invited Rosh and Ayub to come over to Linda’s. When they finally appeared together in Simon’s doorway, they found Simon in a state of total distress. Simon knew he looked like shit. He had been rotting in this bed since he arrived home, yet he still looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Simon?” Rosh called, walking into Simon’s bedroom. Simon looked up to meet her eyes, and Rosh’s expression shifted from excitement to concern in record time. “Jesus, are you okay?”

“It’s official,” Simon choked. “Wille and Sage are going public with their relationship. They’re going through all the official channels to make sure the royal court is okay with it and everything.”

It was quiet for a minute before Ayub let out a breath. “Damn.”

Simon was quiet for a bit longer while Rosh just stared blankly at him before suddenly Simon started to break out into hysterical sobs. 

Rosh and Ayub exchanged a look, and then they each sat on either side of Simon on his bed. 

“Simon,” Rosh sighed. This behavior wasn’t new for Simon, but it had been a long time since it’d been this visually bad. “Simon, come on. You’re being dramatic.” 

“I think I’m allowed,” Simon managed, indignant between sobs. “I mean, how long has it been?” 

“Look, I feel for you. I do. But…” Rosh shifted to face Simon head-on, frowning. “I mean, he’s not your boyfriend. He never has been, he’s just…” 

“I know,” Simon said, standing up to pace in front of where Rosh and Ayub sat. “Fuck. I know.” 

“Seriously, Simon,” Ayub said, voice tired. “You know you should have told him how you felt eight years ago.” 

“I did,” Simon whined, covering his eyes with the inner sides of his palms. 

“Kissing him once right after you met him is not the same as telling him you’ve been stupidly in love with him for the better part of a decade,” Rosh pointed out.

“He has to know, though. Right?” Simon spun on his heels to look at where Rosh and Ayub still sat on his bed, a Simon-sized gap between them. “It’s not like I’ve ever been subtle.” 

“Even if he does know…” Rosh said, slowly, clearly choosing her words very carefully. “What is it that you’re expecting him to do? He’s in a relationship. I know that’s upsetting, but if he doesn’t feel the same about you, he has the right to pursue other people. You have to be okay with that.” 

“I am.”

“Then why are you crying?” Rosh deadpanned, seeing all the way through Simon’s bullshit.

Simon let out a long sigh, pushing any remnant tears off his cheeks with his sleeve. He had to be honest now. No more beating around the bush. 

“I’m just… I’m so damn tired of having my heart broken. I don’t want to be, but I’m still letting him get to me while I’m stuck clinging onto this impossible thing… And I want to stop loving him, I swear I do. I want to let him go, let him be happy. And be happy that he’s happy! He’s my best friend. I want that for him, I want everything for him, I really do. I just… God, it’s so selfish. But there is always going to be a part of me that hopes.” 

“Simon…”

“Sometimes… Sometimes I’ll be talking with him, and he’ll look at me a certain way or say something attentive to me that makes it all seem so… I don’t know. So real. Even now. Every time I tell myself I’m done, he’ll say something that gives me stupid little butterflies and he pulls me right back in.”

Rosh was giving Simon a look. She was probably trying for sympathy, but Simon knew he’d dragged her down that road one or a thousand too many times. She just looked tired. 

“Maybe… Maybe you should take a break, for a bit. Take a few weeks off from Geronimo’s, you know? To tell you the truth, I think Mikael could use the break as well.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“No, look. He needs me. He’s going to go public with his relationship, and we all know how that’s going to go. It’s going to be an absolute nightmare for him and he needs support. I’m not walking away from him now.” 

“It’s nice that you want to be supportive, but… Simon, you gotta look after yourself now and again.”

“I know, I know. But he’s still my best friend. I got to… I got to be there for him. So I need to put my feelings aside.” 

“Well, in a roundabout way, that’s what we wanted,” Ayub commented directly to Rosh, who was shaking her head vehemently. 

“He’s holding you back, Simon. You’re not letting yourself really consider seeing other people. You hardly give them a chance.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve gone out with every single guy you’ve introduced me to. It’s not my fault it never works out.”

“Isn’t it, though? You’re always the common denominator. They can’t all be duds.”

“What was wrong with Leon? He still asks about you when I run into him at the gym. And not in a weird way!” 

“Nothing was wrong with… Look, I appreciate what you guys are trying to do here, okay? I’m just… I’ll be fine. Just needed to cry it out. I’ll get over it.”

“Simon, I’d have a better time believing that if you haven’t said it to us hundreds of times already.” 

“Things with Sage are clearly… This is serious. It’s time I treat it seriously, too.” 

• ────── ✾ ────── •

July 2031

It started as just another Taco Tuesday at Geronimo’s…

Simon finished shuffling the deck of cards for gin rummy and he handed the deck to Wille to deal. Wille took the cards from Simon but didn’t deal them out right away. Instead, he toyed with the cards, siding them together without displacing them, as if simply to keep his fingers busy. He looked uncomfortable, which made Simon nervous. These days, there was only one topic of conversation Wille was uncomfortable having. 

“I need to ask you a question and I need you not to be weird about it.” 

“Weird about it?” Simon questioned, raising an eyebrow at Wille. 

“It’s… It’s about Sage, and I know you have been less than enthusiastic about them lately.” 

“Feel like that’s justified at this point, but go on.”

Simon found himself biting back most of what he wanted to say. Especially in the last few months, Sage and Wille were getting into more and more explosive fights. Wille had crashed on Simon’s couch more times than Simon felt good about. 

Wille paused for a long time before letting out an annoyed puff of air. “You know what? Forget it.” 

“What?” Simon squawked. “Come on. Stop being difficult, just tell me.”

“You’re going to be weird about it,” Wille pouted.

“No. No, I’ll be reasonable, I promise.”

Wille sighed. Paused. Simon could feel his skin crawl.

“I wanted to know if it would be like… in bad taste if I proposed to Sage with my grandmother’s ring.” 

Simon blinked. He was shocked. This was the last place he pictured the conversation going. He expected Wille to ask to take up his spare room for a day or two again. 

“Oh. You’re thinking of proposing?” Simon asked, fighting for his life to keep his facial expression neutral. 

“You think that’s a bad idea,” Wille stated plainly.  

“I didn’t… I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’ve got that weird look on your face.” 

“That’s just my face, Wille.”

“I know we’ve been fighting more often, but it’s not like… Look, I love them. They love me. It can only make things between us better. Right?”

Simon cringed at the question. Wille should have known Simon would object. Anyone who knew Simon even a little would know that he still carried baggage from his own parent's divorce. More than anyone, Simon would have opinions on considering marriage to fix a rocky relationship. 

Wille instantly realized his mistake and winced. “I didn’t mean… It’s…” 

Simon let out a slow exhale, biting back everything he wanted to say but knew he shouldn’t.

“I get where you’re coming from. I do. It’s just hard not to see it as a bandaid on a sinking ship.” 

“A sinking ship?” Wille’s eyes widened, properly angry at Simon’s words. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, defensive. “My relationship is fine, Simon.” 

“I know. I know, I’m just…” Simon squeezed his eyes shut, realizing that he was making things worse the more he talked. “Look, you know I don’t really believe in marriage. I’m not the person you want for this conversation. Ask Margot. Or Alve. They’ve been engaged for eons.” 

“My question wasn’t whether or not I should get married. My question was about the ring. I’m not asking you for your blessing or anything.” 

“It’s not just getting married, though. With you. It’s a royal wedding. You’re supposed to be king one day.”

“I don’t–”

“I’m just saying. If there is even a seed of doubt… You can count on your family to expedite the shitshow.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay.” Simon frowned. 

It was silent for a long beat.

“Jakob told me that it was Rosie’s birthday yesterday.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Laurel made cupcakes for the office.” 

Both giving a valiant effort to fight off the awkwardness, Taco Tuesday at Geronimo’s continued. Not quite as normal, but the show must go on. 

• ────── ✾ ────── •

October 2031

Wille and Sage broke up. A week and a half ago. Simon thought that he would feel better about that fact.  

It was a Sunday. Simon had been staying at Wille’s place for the weekend to comfort him. And man, he needed comfort. 

Simon was sitting on Wille’s couch (surrounded by as many throw pillows as he could gather because Jesus fuck this must have been the worst couch ever constructed) with his laptop on his knees, sorting through Spotify. He was busying himself making Wille an “empowering” breakup playlist to hopefully change Wille’s tune from the weepy ones he had been cycling through all week.

Simon stilled when he heard the doorbell ring. Simon took an earbud out to listen, and he heard Wille’s muffled voice shout from his bedroom.

“Can you get it?” 

“Sure,” Simon called back, setting his laptop on the coffee table before making his way to the door.

Reaching the panel by the door, Simon realized that he didn’t know what to do with the whole doorbell situation. He’d seen Wille use something around the door to talk down to the staff of his building. (Wille calls where he lives his “apartment” so it can feel more normal but to be clear, it’s a living area built into some sort of official building. It’s still totally protected and staffed by the royal family.) Simon pressed a button on the intercom, hoping and praying it was the right one, and attempted to talk into it. 

“Uh, hey. Who is it?” 

Mercifully, it must have worked, because the little speaker lit up again. Simon recognized the doorman's voice, who answered with a hushed tone. “It’s Sage again.” 

“Fuck,” Simon cursed to himself. He turned around to look to where Wille’s bedroom door was ajar. He could sort of make out the mountain of blankets the Wille was cocooned under. Now was clearly not a good time. “Um…”

“Should I send them up?” 

“No. No, I’ll come down.” Simon decided, whispering into the speaker so Wille wouldn’t hear. 

Simon wished he had taken the moment to put on some proper clothes. His sweatpants and hoodie were fine, usually, but something about Sage always made him feel like he needed to have all his ducks in a row. They were so cool, always fashionable and suave and successful. So many things that Simon was not and never would be. He had spent years feeling so insecure about that. So much of the past decade was spent agonizing over what these other people Wille dated had that he lacked, what made them so special that Wille chose to love them when he continuously overlooked Simon. 

It was a little comforting, though, when he arrived downstairs and finally did get a glimpse of Sage, who he found sitting on a chair in the lobby. They looked like shit. They still wore decent, presentable daytime clothes, but Simon noticed the wrinkles on their button-up shirt, the bags under their eyes, and the way their hair hadn’t been styled at all, messy strands sticking out every which way.

It made Simon feel a little good, in a kind of fucked up way. Of course losing Wille hurt. Sage should feel like shit about fucking up something so good. 

“Wille can’t come down himself?” Sage grumbled when they spotted Simon. 

“He’s sleeping. I didn’t want to wake him,” Simon lied. “Did you need something?” 

“To talk to him.” 

“He doesn’t want to see you.” 

“You just said he’s sleeping. You didn’t even ask him.” 

“He’ll say the same thing he said the last five times you’ve shown up here. He doesn’t want to see you. Can’t you just take the hint? You have to stop coming here.”

“He blocked my number.”

“Of course he did.” 

“Simon…”

“You know what? I don’t have to be nice to you anymore. I hate the way you’ve treated Wille. I know things haven’t been easy for you guys. But you went through all that, fought so hard to be together, and you still took him for granted. You know he sacrificed so much to be with you? Do you know how hard that was for him?”

“It was hard for me to0! But you don’t get to accuse me of not knowing Wille. I was with him for years, I know Wille.” 

“But you left him.”

“Simon, can you just cut the crap? Everybody and their mother knows you want to jump Wille’s bones, but you aren’t his boyfriend, okay? I was his partner. Not you. I knew him like that. You don’t.” 

“I was by Wille’s side long before you showed up. And I will still be here long after you’ve forgotten his name. As long as I am his friend, I will be sure that you don’t get to say a word to that man to hurt him. I will always be here to stand in between you and him.” 

“You gotta stop putting him on a fucking pedestal. Doesn’t his whole existence go against your whole schtick? Mr. Fuck-the-Rich, abolish the monarchy and all that?” 

“You want to talk ‘fuck the rich’? You? The one who famously fucked their way to a Michelin star. All your success is because of him. And you didn’t even have the decency to stick around after he handed you exactly what you wanted.”

Sage narrowed their eyes at Simon darkly. “...If you don’t think I spent every waking moment making sure Wille knew how grateful I was for his support…” 

“The ends justify, don’t they?”

Sage just glared. They looked at each other with so much pent-up anger and pure hatred. It was, in a word, terrifying.

“You really don’t know anything,” Sage said slowly, furiously. 

“Don’t come back again, okay?” Simon said, and then turned around and headed back upstairs, not waiting for a response. 

Back in Wille’s rooms, the mound of blankets vaguely representing the shape of Wille shuffled at the sound of the door closing. 

“Who was it?”

“Sara.” Simon lied. “She was dropping off my laptop.” 

Wille made a noise of acknowledgment before going still again.