#impossibleknots

Simon’s fingers are clawing into Wille’s back, so hard Wille knows he should tell him to stop, to find somewhere less visible to scratch, but frankly, he's beyond the point of caring. He can't help but gasp into Simon’s mouth when he feels the sting, but only doubles down, speeds up the movements of his hips.

Simon gasps back, beautifully, breathlessly, and Wille is in heaven. This is what he needs, this is what he wants, fuck, this is perfect. “Fuck,” he pants out, throwing his head back when Simon meets his thrusts just so. The words just stumble out of him, not an ounce of self-control left in him when Simon is so expertly making him lose his mind. “So good,” he babbles and lowers down onto his forearm so he can reach between them. Simon hisses when Wille wraps his fist around him again, but he’s still slick with lube from earlier. And so heavy and hot in Wille’s hand that Wille has to flex his entire fucking core so he doesn’t come on the spot. “Fuck,” he groans again, more emphatically, as he starts sliding his fist over Simon’s cock. And, because he doesn’t have anything to lose: “You feel so good.” “Wille!” Simon’s moan sounds aghast, hands roaming over Wille’s back like he’s scrambling for purchase. Oh fuck. Wille needs to play around with this next time, do more of this, he didn’t know Simon would want him to, would even like- Simon grabs Wille by the back of his neck and pulls him down sharply, crashes their mouth together in a searing kiss. It’s wet, it’s hot, it’s fucking filthy and Wille slows his movements, feels like they need to take this in fully, as is. He knows his kisses are unnecessarily possessive, a little too apt on licking into Simon’s mouth to make sure he’s got a mouth full of him and only him. No, of them, fuck, he’s kissing Simon’s taste back into him, he realizes, and lets out a long groan at the thought. Simon keeps him there, though, his long fingers strong at the base of his skull. His heels digging into Wille’s ass like he’s got any reason to be scared Wille will pull out. When they break apart, gasping for air, Simon barely looses his grip. Instead, he holds Wille’s head there, keeps him close, and moves to whisper in his ear. “Keep talking,” he pushes out, his teeth scraping over Wille’s earlobe in a movement that sends a shiver down his spine. Wille is about to nod, about to tell Simon that if he doesn’t stop clenching like that Wille is going to be done here way too fucking soon, but Simon goes on. “Tell me you want me,” his voice sounds different now, somehow- “only me, please” Wille immediately sobers up when Simon’s voice cracks mid-plea. He thought they were good, he thought Simon was also enjoying this, he thought… Wille gets his hand off Simon’s cock and tries to prop himself up again, to get a look at Simon’s face, but to no avail. Simon is holding him there, still, letting his hot breath ghost over the side of Wille’s neck. “I need-”  Instead of saying anything. just say so like Wille’s traitorous mouth is trying to, he holds his breath. Simon’s lips are hot and wet and uncoordinated as he presses kisses along the line of Wille’s neck.

“Need you to lie to me, Wille,” he breathes, and Wille’s heart stops. This isn’t- how can Simon think that he’d ever- “I just need to hear it, Wille.” After a gruesome moment of complete silence, Simon lets out a breathy chuckle and feels entirely humorless. Wille feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. When he tries to pull back this time, Simon lets him. He lets out another small laugh and drapes one arm across his face, making it impossible for Wille to look at him properly. All the heat is gone at once. Wille just feels cold. He wants to go back to just before. “Sorry,” Simon mumbles, sounding different now. Almost reserved. “Sorry, I just-” Another laugh, that, somehow, cuts Wille to the core. “Orgasm brain,” Simon offers as an explanation, pulling his arm off his face with a shrug. Right. Right. Cause this is what this is. Getting off. Wille nods slowly, unsure if this is his cue to laugh along or get back into it. He feels more like running away and hiding. “Okay,” he says meekly and wipes his hand on his bedspread. “Are you sure that-” Simon puts a hand on Wille’s chest, shoves him back a little. He’s gentle, but it’s still clear enough of a sign. Wille gets off of him. “I should get going,” Simon tells him curtly. And it only registers while Simon is already putting his shirt on again. Wille pushes through the lead that is weighing down his body, tries to get up and go after him. “Simon, I-” “Just don’t mention it, okay?” Simon turns, flashing Wille a smile that he must know Wille doesn’t buy. “Sorry for ruining the mood,” he continues, trying to sound lighthearted, and Wille can’t stop him from buttoning up his pants and reaching for the backpack he threw into the corner of Wille’s room earlier. “I’ll see you in class,” he shouts over his shoulder. Before Wille has the chance to ask him to stay, the door slams closed.