#simonthread

closed for @obliviia​

The ring box weighed heavy in Simon’s pocket as he sat near the fireplace, blanket draped over his shoulders. “You know, this really isn’t that bad,” he shrugged, “At least, you know, we’re here together.” Okay, maybe it was kinda bad. It was terrible, actually.

Simon had had it all planned. They were going to stay in a romantic hotel for a few nights, go skiing, explore the town together, have sex a couple times a day, and when the moment was right - Simon was going to propose. But of course, it all had to go to shit. The hotel had overbooked, the ski resort was closed for maintenance and Simon had not found the right time to pop the question. To top it all off, they were officially snowed in in their small cabin. At this rate, the roof might as well cave in.

This was such a bad idea. Simon had a bad feeling when Chris suggested they get a drink instead of going to the movies like they had planned. He had agreed, but was quickly regretting it. They had been laughing together when they arrived, having the usual teasing back and forth as they usually did, but as Simon turned to say something he realized Chris was no longer there. Simon watched from afar as Chris was chatting up some random girl. He watched as they flirted, as the woman played with Chris’s tie and as Chris gently touched her shoulder. It made him sick to his stomach, and he wasn’t sure why.

It wasn’t the fact that Chris was flirting with a woman - Simon had absolutely no problem with Chris’s pansexuality - it was that he was, well, that he was flirting with someone. Someone who wasn’t him.

No matter how much he tried to ignore it, Simon was developing a serious crush on his friend. Simon adverted his eyes as the two stepped closer to one another, trying to hear over the music and the noise of the other patrons. He frowned into his whiskey and took a sip, cursing himself for letting his feelings manifest.

It was strange having an opinion on someone you’d never even spoken to. Well, at least pretending to have one. For as long as he could remember, Simon was unwillingly pitted against Christopher Clark by his parents. The comparison wasn’t always apparent. Most of the time, it was just a side comment from one of his parents. When Simon was accepted into Harvard, his father had said something along the lines of, ‘Much better than that Clark boy could do, I’m sure.’ Simon had just smiled and nodded, not really knowing what to say.

Simon had nothing against Christopher. How could he? And yet, he felt the need to find something - anything - in the man to dislike. Maybe now would be his chance.

first - our muses having their first time

“Are - are you sure?” Simon asked, his hands resting on Mercer’s belt. They were in Simon’s bedroom, having wound up there after a hesitant kiss had turned into touching and gasping, with hands slipping underneath shirts and lips trailing onto necks.

❀ - Pulling them into a tight embrace whilst crying. (Chris♥Simon)

“Chris, oh my God, what happened?” Simon wrapped his arms around the other man’s torso and held him tightly, his hands rubbing circles on his back. He hadn’t seen the other man like this before, the sight alone making him tear up himself.