AO3 Stories

Spierfeld: Choices

SPOILER FOR BLUE'S IDENTITY

FANDOM: Simon vs the Homo Sapien's Agenda (Love, Simon)

PAIRING: Simon Spier/Bram Greenfeld

Sometimes, you think you know something, and then you don't. I grew up thinking straight was the only choice. I didn't know anything else existed. 'Straight' was the only representation I saw in shows, movies, books. The Prince Charming and his princess, the girl and the new boy, every romance troupe you can think of, straight.

And so, imagine my surprise, when I heard a kid call another 'The 'F-Word'. I, being the curious kid that I was, asked what it meant. Gay. Which meant? Liking boys. Well, that's the edited, G-version of the answer I got. And voila! My world was open! I knew who I was meant to be. Okay...no, not quite. I now knew there was another option, and I was probably close to that, but I had always identified as straight.

Well, technically. I was like ten, I didn't know what sexual identity was, nor did I care to. But anyway, choices, knowing things or not. Having more than one option. I thought the only person who could logically be Blue was Cal. I don't think I ever imagined it could be someone from my circle. Not that Bram was actually in my circle. He was on the outskirts if anything. Shy, quiet Bram. The puzzle piece who didn't quite fit in the slot he was given. He always felt like more. Like we could be friends, maybe he could, I dunno, join the inner circle with Nick and Leah and Abby.

I'm not sure I'm making any sense. It's late. It all seems so obvious now. All the little things Bram did or Blue said. I find myself, late at night, scrolling through our emails, and wondering how I missed all of it, all the little hints. And the email. I constantly find myself wondering why, in all that time searching for clues to his identity, it didn't occur to me that the email itself could lead me to something. I definitely wouldn't have gotten his name, but I would've probably gotten his birthday. No, no, I'm giving myself too much credit. I would've chalked it up to a favorite number.

"Si, what're you thinking about?" Bram rolls over, squinting into the light from my monitor as he stares at me.

I sigh, clicking over to the next email. "How did I not guess that it was you?" I groan, wheeling my chair around to face him.

He laughs, stretching out his arms in a silent request for me. How could I resist my boyfriend, warm and sleepy, in my bed? Trick question, I can't. So I put my computer to sleep and crawl into bed next to him. His arms snake around me as my head finds the familiar dip on his shoulder. "I didn't want you to guess," Bram whispers, his thumb stroking along a strip of skin on my hip, where my shirt has been hiked up. "Not until I realized you were hoping I was someone else." We've had this conversation before, usually with one or both of us half-drunk, giggling messes.

"Fucking Cal," I mutter, hiding my face in his neck. I still can't believe that I thought he was Cal, of all people. They're nothing alike.

He agrees. "Fucking Cal." It's silent for a beat. "I love you," Bram says and I grin, propping my head up to look at him. He's grinning at the ceiling, looking so stupidly happy and I feel so stupidly happy and I can't believe this is my life. A few months ago, I thought I had lost everything, lost Blue, lost my friends. And now, this.

"I love you too." I can't help but press a kiss against his lips and he's smiling into it, bringing a hand to the back of my neck and tilting his head just right and I feel like I'm flying high. He pulls back after a moment, though, leaving me whining and chasing his lips. He chuckles and places a kiss on my forehead. Tease.

"Si, your parents are trusting us. And it's time to sleep." He's right, of course. He's always right. Doesn't mean have to like it. My parents let him stay over, in my room, for the first time ever, but the door has to stay open. Technically, he's supposed to be on the floor, but I know my parents aren't expecting that to happen.

My head settles back into the crook of his neck and he lets his head rest on mine and for tonight, everything is perfect. In his arms, I can pretend everything is fine, the world isn't as bad as it seems sometimes.

There's no Marvin hunting me down at school, begging for my forgiveness.

No awkward feelings between Leah and Abby.

Nothing except the two of us, pulses humming in unison, our legs, arms, lives tangled together as one.

All because I made a choice. A choice to finally admit to myself who I was. A choice to email someone. A choice to get on the Tilt-a-Whirl. So maybe a few choices, right and wrong. But all of those led me to this moment. Perfect, fucked up choices.