#this is a fusion of the movie and book but it’s more svthsa tbh i guess?

[ktrsvo]

well the prompt I have for you is from the book (but I keep picturing the movie Simon so its definetely a cross over? Idk)... In the book after Bram realizes who Simon is he overhears Abby talking to Nick about Simon and some guy named Cal, thats when he gets jealous (totally is during that email where he tells Simon hes glad everything is working out for him).... WELL, I wanna see Bram's side of it you know? Because I have this feeling that Bram liked Simon WAYYYYYY before he knew Simon was gay

ocean eyes

Simon has an idea on who Blue is, but he isn’t Bram.

guess who just rewatched love simon w/ her friends today? (this is gay culture) so here’s a quick one, fellas, im in a mOOD :-D

Bram rereads the email an extra couple times, and honestly? There’s nothing on this stupid planet that can make his scenario any better. Not Sam Smith songs, and certainly not sad Reddit sob stories. Nothing, nada, zilch.

To his right, Garrett’s going on about some dumb, freshie stoner kids who were caught dealing behind the bleachers just a few days ago. Something about ziploc bags, spray-paint canisters, a couple hundred bills of cold hard cash. He even mentions a Cadillac - though Bram’s not paying enough attention to see its relevance to the story.

A waitress comes by to plunk down their orders, but Bram’s not hungry. Not anymore. So his plate of chocolate chip waffles sits untouched, until Liam reaches over and pulls it towards himself. At one point Garrett shoulders Bram to gain his input about, what, the mechanics of boob physics in anime - but since the current look on Bram’s face is saying, “I don’t give a shit right now,” in practically bold neon letters, Garrett claps him on the shoulder and thankfully lets it slide.

Liam isn’t having it, though. Christ. His eyebrows knit together tightly, the way it always does when he’s puzzling over his girlfriend’s texts like he’s looking for cracks, some hidden undercurrent of deception, and, really, Bram wants to tell him to please, back off, but.

It’d only pique the guy’s curiosity. Get him onto Bram’s case like some certified Blue’s Clues super sleuth. Fucking Sherlock Holmes 2.0.

“You okay, dude?” Liam says, leaning over the table on his elbows. Trying to catch a glimpse of the secrets stewing on Bram’s phone screen. Like, oh no, what could they be? His own girlfriend’s messages? Videos about titties bouncing?

Well, it’s probably a good thing that Bram’s about as straight as a curly straw.

“Yeah, I’m just tired. It’s been a really rough day,” Bram says, trying to casually shove his phone inside his pocket so that Liam won’t focus on him as much. And it works. So good for Bram.

Later that night, when he gets back home after enduring that hour-long rundown of the amazing dribbling techniques that apparently won a school not from their district a national gold medal, the first thing he does is flip open his laptop. Naturally.

Then, this is where his critical thinking skills come into play  - the difficult part. God.

Bram resists the urge to face-plant on his keyboard.

Jacques - no, Simon, as in Simon Spier - doesn’t think Blue is Bram. Doesn’t suspect it’s him. Apparently the image on his mind is some dreamy, blue-eyed artist who’s presumably from his theatre class. Some boy with a nice singing voice, and a 64-pack of Prismacolours and superhero comic books stuffed inside his Kanken bag, probably.

The image assembles itself from Bram’s superficial observations of the seemingly highbrow, artsy types in their school. Theatre kids, all of them. Lovers of The Secret History, photography, minimalism, flowery prose, and Romance languages.

In Bram’s head, they’re gathered in a blinding stairwell that smells vaguely of nail varnish and resin. Wearing white Chuck Taylors with phrases inscribed along the vamp, the laces removed and looped around the hooks of their boyfriend-cut jeans. Amor vincit omnia, one reads in a purposefully messy scrawl.

And another - dulcius ex asperis - in slanted handwriting. All wide spaces. Narrow letters.

Yeah, sure. Cool.

Okay, Bram doesn’t know where he’s getting at - it’s probably the resentment that’s talking its traitorous mouth off - but the point that remains is this: Simon has a crush on someone. And that someone isn’t him.

Which is fair enough, if Bram’s thinking about the whole matter from a logical standpoint, all subjectivity aside. It’s not like Bram is the only person out there who fits the criteria Bram’s been hinting at in their messages. Like, lover of Oreos? Unofficial Night’s Watch Member? Really? Bram knows this one guy in the cafeteria who eats the stuff everyday. Inhales it like it’s oxygen, and he’s on lifetime support. He could probably be into Game of Thrones, too, for all Bram cares.

Come to think of it, he was wearing a House Stark shirt this one time, one with a really detailed direwolf and that green escutcheon -

Bram shuts his eyes.

Groans.

______

So, that boy Bram’s been thinking about? Mister Ocean-Eyes aka Simon’s version of Blue?

Cal Price.

He overhears Abby and Nick discussing it one day, as he’s walking to class. Not the Blue part, of course. They don’t know about that. No one else does. Unless Simon told them, which is unlikely.

“Think it’s Cal that’s on his mind?” Abby says to Nick in a voice low enough that only someone really paying attention can discern. “Like, Si was looking at him weirdly during practice yesterday. It was really sweet, y’know. You should’ve seen it.”

“Weirdly, as in -?” Nick makes a face Bram can’t see, but it makes Abby giggle and shove at him playfully. Meaning it’s an expression of the lovesick persuasion.

Abby lets out another snicker. “Yeah, like that!”

Nick shrugs. “Well, maybe, then? Seems like it, I guess?”

Then, the two of them round the corridor and disappear into the Global Issues classroom, the traces of Abby’s laughter somehow lingering in the air. Like a spritz of perfume.

Bram’s hands tighten where they’re gripped around the straps of his backpack.

____

……..

Anyway, it looks like things are working out the way you wanted them to. So, good for you.

Blue

Bram doesn’t bother looking the message over before he clicks on “Send.”

___

…..

Can we just pretend none of this ever happened and go back to normal?

Simon

Honestly, if only Bram could.

___

He could, Bram finds out the next day, when he accidentally locks gazes with Simon.

When Simon gives him that smile - that small, half-moon smile Bram is so, so weak for.

He could, Bram thinks, looking away quickly, blushing.

He most definitely could.