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Baz
“Don’t leave that there, please,” I say as Simon throws his hoodie over the couch.
“I’ll put it away later,” Simon replies, sinking further into the cushions.
“Put it away now.”
Snow glares at me over his shoulder. “Why?”
I glare right back. Two can play at that game. “Because it’s proper manners to not leave clothing laying about.”
He grunts, but picks up the hoodie and marches over to the coat hook. We lock eyes as he hangs it up. “There. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
Snow grunts again then stomps into the kitchen, where I’m standing, washing dishes. He looks over at the soapy water. “You sure you don’t want me to help?”
I wave dismissively. “I’m fine, love. It’s not that much. Besides, you don’t know where anything goes. Last time you stuck the colander in the bowl cupboard.”
I try to say it lightly, like a joke, but Snow doesn’t say anything. Just walks over to the fridge and throws it open with a little too much force. Well, he might be cross about something, but it’s probably just stress. We’re both in the middle of exams and therefore both very close to exploding. It’s a miracle we were able to squeeze in this little sleepover. This is the first time we’ve seen each other in person in nearly three weeks, but it’s certainly not a lovely reunion.
Snow walks over to the couch again, soda in hand. He places it directly on the antique mahogany coffee table I bought for Fiona.
“Please use a coaster,” I sigh.
He growls and snatches a coaster from a drawer. I don’t know what his problem is. It’s just a bloody coaster. I don’t want my table ruined by his soda addiction.
“Do you wanna watch something?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I reply. “Honestly, I’m not sure how long I’ll last. I’m this close to passing out.”
“Me too. Fuck maths exams.”
I chuckle. “Amen, Snow.”
“Should we get into our pyjamas?”
“Probably, in case we pass out on the couch again.”
“Alright.” He goes over to his night bag and starts digging around in his clothes. A t-shirt, trousers, and pants go flying around. He finally gets his oversized shirt and trackies out. But he just tosses the other clothes over the bag, not even putting them away. Something boils in my gut and sets me even more on edge. I sigh heavily, pressing a finger to my temple.
“What?” Snow snaps, hands on both his hips.
I look square in the eye. “Must you leave a mess wherever you go?”
He scowls even harder. “It’s just some clothes. I’ll put them away in a bit!”
“Fine,” I sigh. “Just leave everything in disarray as usual. Not like anyone lives here.”
“That’s it!” His voice is incredibly loud, enough to make me jolt. When I look up, he has more than just a scowl, there's a fire in his eyes. I’ve rarely seen him this furious.
“What’s it?” I ask with genuine confusion.
“You’re just- you always- ah!” He grabs at his hair. “Why are you like this?!”
“Like what?”
“This! Everytime I’m here, if I do one wrong thing, you get all pissy. I can’t even leave a fucking crumb on the floor without you being a total dickhead!”
My mouth drops open in shock. I put down my dish towel and walk around into the hall with him. “What?! That is not true!”
“It fucking is! I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells here. You never just let me, like, exist in your place!”
“You mean I don’t let you leave a mess?”
“It’s not a mess, it’s bloody clothes! A bloody soda can! A bloody colander! One time you spilled wine on my kitchen floor, andI didn’t freak out. B-But when I do one thing here, you lose your fucking shit!”
I cross my arms. “The wine was an accident.”
He marches forward, fists at his sides. “Yeah, but I wasn’t a prick, unlike you!”
“I just prefer a clean space...”
“No, you just have fun berating me!”
“Absolutely not!”
“Then why do you keep yelling at me about dumb shit?!”
“Because you keep leaving shit everywhere!”
“Why do you care?!”
“Because this is my bloody flat! Not yours!”
Snow’s mouth falls open slightly. His eyes are wide and hurt. I hate seeing him like that. What...what did I do? I start walking towards him, but Simon steps away. It breaks my undead heart.
“I’m um,” Simon whispers, “I’m gonna go out.”
“Simon,” I say softly, trying to step closer, but he keeps stepping away.
“Baz, please. I gotta...I gotta go, before I say something I don’t mean.”
That makes me pull away, shaking hands weaved together in front of me. Snow goes to the coat hook and throws on his hoodie and trainers. He’s going so fast he doesn’t even bother to tie his laces. I watch him leave without even a glance back.
I'm left alone in my flat, the rain hitting the window panes with tiny pitter patters. My brain is swirling with questions and confusion. What did I do that was so wrong? I don't understand. This is my flat. Snow’s insistence on leaving messes everywhere in it befuddles me to no end. I think for once in my life, I don’t have the answer, and I’m going to ask someone else. Unfortunately, I know who to call.
I take out my phone and tap a particular speed dial contact. He picks up after only two rings.
“Hello?” he chirps.
“Hi, Niall,” I sigh.
“Baz?”
“Yes. Don’t you have my contact?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised you’re calling. You usually prefer texting.”
I sigh heavily as I flop down on my couch. “Unfortunately, this conversation requires speaking.” I rub the ever deepening crease between my eyebrows. “I...I need your advice...”
There’s a short pause before I listen to my friend burst out laughing. It’s smugly raucous and loud. I growl like Snow does when he’s pissed. “If you’re going to be an arse, Niall, I’m going to hang up and not speak to you for a month.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he sputters. “I’ll stop. I just never thought I would see the day you, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, came to me for advice. You must be absolutely desperate.”
“Unfortunately, I think I might be.” My voice unfortunately sounds particularly pathetic. And I’m pretty sure Niall can hear it.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, sounding kind and reassuring. That’s a rarity between us, but absolutely needed right now.
I sink further into the couch cushions. “Snow and I had a bad fight, and I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”
“Not like that,” I sigh. “We’ve been together for almost a year, it’s not like we’ve never had big fights before. But right now, I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong.”
“So you’ve called me?”
“Well, you’re a psych major. Maybe you’ll have some better insight because I’m completely lost.”
I can hear rustling on the other end. It’s probably Niall getting comfortable, assuming we’re going to be here for awhile. “Go ahead, Basil.”
“Well, we’ve been very busy for with exams. So since Bunce’s boyfriend is in town, Snow was going to stay at my place. It was great, until...” I sink into the couch cushions, “Snow left messes. He threw his hoodie over the couch, put a soda on the wooden table, left clothes on the floor. I asked him no to, and for some reason that made him very angry. He said I’m too mean to him about it. But I don’t think i was being mean. And I don't understand why Snow keeps doing this! Why does he feel the need to mess up my flat all the time?! And why was he so angry?!”
I slump further, massaging my temple. I can practically hear Niall thinking on the other end. “Alright,” he says slowly, “I think I’m getting an idea. But I need more info to come to a conclusion.”
“You really do sound like a psychologist,” I mutter.
“Which is why you called me, so let me ask and answer properly.”
“Ugh, fine. Ask away, Dr. Callaghan.”
There’s more rustling. I swear, if he took out a notepad, I’m going to kill him. “Are you guys often at his place or your’s?”
“His. It’s closer to school and we enjoy it more there.”
“Alright. Does he ever suggest going to your place instead?”
“Sometimes.”
“Have you let him come over?”
“A few times. Not a lot I guess. Like I said, his place is closer, and we’re usually tired after school.”
“Hm, okay.” I imagine he’s scratching his chin right now. “Do you have stuff at his place?”
My eyebrows crease together. “What are you getting at, Niall?”
“Just answer the question, Baz."
“Fine. Yes, I have some stuff at Snow and Bunce’s place.”
“Like...?”
I scratch the side of my head. This isn’t something I usually think about. “Um, a set of pyjamas, a toothbrush, just stuff for when I stay over.”
“Have you ever asked to put stuff there?”
“Well, not really. They just sort of end up staying.”
“Does Snow have stuff at your place? Toothbrush, clothes?”
I have to think about this for a moment too. “Well, he’s not here a lot. So he usually just brings a bag when he does come.”
“Okay, okay.” He pauses. Damn him, he’s definitely taking notes. I’ll make him burn them. “Alright, I think I have a better idea about what’s going on now.”
“Oh? Have some diagnosis? Am I more insane than I already know I am?”
“Well, probably, but that’s not what this is about. In my psych major and certified friend opinion, I think the problem is that you have trouble sharing your space with Snow, therefore sending the unconscious message you don’t want him around.”
I bolt upright, mouth hanging open in utter shock. My heart is beating far faster than it should. “What?! That’s insane! Of course I want Simon around, I fucking love him!”
“Yes, I know you do, Baz, I’m not doubting that. I’m just saying, there's some...weird things. Like how he doesn’t have any of his stuff at your place, unlike your stuff at his flat.”
“That’s just circumstance,” I scoff. “No need to read into that.”
“I think there is a need. From what I can tell, I think Snow making messes is him trying to make a mark in your space.”
“Simon’s not a dog marking his bloody territory.”
“Well, in a way he is. He’s trying to make his presence known in your flat, but you’re not letting him. That rejection is making him mad.”
“I’m not rejecting him. It’s just...” I look down at the soda, sitting just off the coaster. “I don’t like the mess.”
“Yeah, but he’s messy. He does that all the time wherever he is. You know that, yet you’re berating him for it. Your anger might really be hurting him.”
My fury dissipates slightly. Once again, I’m sinking into the sofa. Maybe it’ll just absorb me and I won’t have to keep having this conversation. “You really think so?”
“Yeah. Snow is trying to be a part of your space and you’re not letting him.”
“I’m not trying to do that!”
“I know you aren’t Baz! I don’t think it’s even conscious for either of you. Neither you nor Snow are self aware enough to realise it.”
I growl again. “I am this close to hanging up, Niall.”
“Calm your tits and just listen, Basil.” I can hear him lean forward, like I’m one of his future patients. “I don’t think you’re a bad or mean person. I don’t think you’re consciously pushing away your boyfriend. All you see is Snow leaving clutter and shit. It makes perfect sense you wouldn’t like it. But to Snow, I guess it’s like you don’t like him being a part of your home.”
“Of course I like him here!”
“Yeah, but in his mind, you’re being a giant prick over little things you know he does. Therefore, you don’t like him being around."
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Emotions don’t make logical sense, Baz. And there’s something else...”
“What?” I groan.
“I think, maybe another reason you’re making a big deal out of Simon’s messes is because you’re scared to share a living space with him again.”
I run a hand through my hair, tugging the strands in frustration. “Why would I be scared? I lived with Simon for seven years!”
“Yeah,” Niall sighs, “and you’ve said it was agony. You were hopelessly in love with him, assuming he would never love you back and would most likely kill you one day. That’s an extremely stressful experience. Maybe, deep down, you associate living with Simon with pain."
“That is some grade A psychobabble.”
He sighs deeply again. “Psychobabble or not, you’re the one who won’t let your boyfriend take out his bloody clothes your place.”
“It’s untidy,” I grumble.
“Maybe if you cleared a drawer for him, he would stop being untidy.”
I frown, nearing a pout. “That seems simplistic.”
“It is, because that’s only one step. You and Snow have to have a way deeper talk and work through your issues.” I let out an involuntary groan. “Yeah, I know, Baz, you’re allergic to feelings. But you don’t get to avoid them, especially when you’re in a relationship. So for your sake and mine, please talk to your boyfriend. If you two break up I’ll have to pay the bar tab and my credit card can’t take that.”
That brings a sudden, unexpected laugh out of my mouth. I tilt my head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Don’t worry, Niall, we’re not breaking up anytime soon.” I fiddle with my jumper sleeve. “At least, I hope not...”
“I was kidding, Baz. You two won’t break up now, or ever in my opinion. I’ve seen all your mushiness. You and Snow are stupidly in love. You’ll work this out.”
I smile softly. “Thanks, Niall. And thanks, for talking to me. Surprisingly, you were very helpful.”
“Why are you such an arse?”
“Better question, why are you friends with me?”
“Very good question. Buy me a drink sometime soon so I can be reminded?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I suppose that would be fun. Free on Saturday at eight, bar near your place?”
“Sounds good! I’ll see you then.”
“See you then, Niall.”
“And Baz?”
“Yes?”
I can almost hear his smile through the phone. “Good luck.”
I smile back and I hope he can hear it. “Thanks.”
The phone clicks off, and I'm alone again. I take a deep, calming breath, making a mental list of what I need to do. There’s a lot, but I can do it. I have to do it. For Simon.
I’m sitting on the couch, reading a book, a glass of wine in my hand. The dark red liquid shakes a little, because I’m shaking. It’s been half an hour. Snow still hasn’t come back. It’s not like he’s in harm’s way. Snow has fought dragons and chimeras, he can hold his own against anything London throws at him. But still, my hand is shaking. Where the hell is he?
The door slams shut, making me jolt. I quickly put down my drink and book, sitting upright and proper. I hear the tell tale sound of Simon kicking off his trainers too hard. Then he’s walking in, standing at the other end of the room, right there. His bronze hair has been made darker by the rain, huge pieces glued to his forehead. Thank magic his wings are still spelled away. I expected him to be angry, but really, he just looks tired.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey,” he replies. “You’re still up?”
“It’s only 9:30, Snow.”
“Oh, right.” He unzips his soaked hoodie and drapes it over the hook.
I stand up, but make no step towards him. “You came back.”
“Well, I did promise Pen I would let her have the flat for the night. Plus my stuff is still here.”
“Right.”
Snow sticks his hands in his jean pockets, shoulders curled in. Mine are clasped behind my back. It’s like there’s a wall between us. Invisible, intangible, but standing there between us. I absolutely hate it.
“So,” I say slowly, “I think we should talk.”
His plain blue eyes flick up. First he looks at my, then move over to the coffee table. His eyebrows knit together. “Have you been drinking?”
I look over my shoulder, and realise he’s staring at the wine glass. I look back with equal confusion on my face. “It’s just that cheap wine I bought yesterday. I've had less than half a glass.”
“Are you drunk?”
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Give me a little more credit, Snow. My tolerance is far higher than that. Can we please sit down and talk?”
He shakes his head. “Not if you’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. Don’t use that as an excuse to not discuss this.”
“I’m not doing that,” he grumbles.
“Yes, you are. And neither of us can avoid feelings anymore.”
His nose scrunches up, which usually I find adorable. Snow turns around and starts stomping away. Bloody Morgana and Merlin, he really can be so frustrating sometimes. I stomp after him.
“Snow! Please, let’s just work this out,” I say.
“I don’t wanna talk,” he replies.
“Tough troll teeth, we need to.”
“I don’t wanna!” He’s walking faster down the hall, and I speed up as well.
“For Crowley’s sake, Simon, I’m sorry! I-”
Snow spins around cuts me off with a press of his mouth. I stumble back slightly, then I’m frozen in place. My brain is a whirlwind of muddled emotions. Confusion, shock, anger, and pure bliss because his lips always feel so good. We stand there for awhile, Snow pushing his mouth onto mine, me frozen in place. It’s like our first kiss all over again. The shock fades, and I start kissing him back, eyes fluttering closed and moving my mouth. His hands slide through my hair, shoving our faces together. I grab his sides, pulling him closer. Our lips slide together faster and faster. His tongue moves inside my mouth and I nearly collapse. We haven’t seen each other properly for weeks, and therefore haven’t had more than a chaste peck for weeks. All that pent up sexual tension explodes in me all at once.
After a few minutes of heavy snogging, Snow pulls our lips apart but keeps our foreheads together. Our breaths are hot and heavy in the space between us.
“I don’t wanna talk,” he whispers harshly. “Can we just not talk for a bit?”
I know we should talk. But my entire body feels on fire, desperate to cling to Simon. Talking can wait. “Yeah,” I breathe “let’s not.”
The word is barely out of my mouth before Simon is kissing me again. It’s fast and strong and forceful, just like how he fights. I push back, not giving an inch. Thunder and lightning crack just outside, rattling the flat, like our own personal dramatic soundtrack. His hands grip my neck so tight, nails digging into my skin. We start stumbling back until I hit the wall. Simon presses close to me. I can feel his invisible tail wind around my thigh. We’re so unbelievably close I swear we’ll meld into one person. The disturbed part of me would really like that.
We’re like bloody animals, pulling and scratching and biting. Our breaths are hot and heavy, filled with panting and groans. I can tell Simon is still angry at me, being a bit rougher than normal, but he’s still Simon. He’s not cruel, he never is. It’s just a bit more forceful, just enough to get my undead heart pulsing. Snow moves his hand from my neck and slowly down my back. Even through my shirt it feels like sparks over my skin. He then snakes up under it, nails raking across my lower back. I break away from his lips to gasp. Snow takes the opportunity to move his lips down my neck. It’s like a hot brand on me, searing my skin with the impression of Simon Snow’s mouth. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
He bites just above my shoulder at the exact same time I tug on his bronze curls. We both buck forward involuntarily, grinding against each other. I groan far louder than reason permits. Snow chuckles low in his throat. It’s an oddly dark sound to come from my sunshine boyfriend. That shouldn’t turn me on so much, yet I find my hips bucking up even harder.
Simon pulls back a bit. The lightning briefly illuminates him. Half lidded blue eyes, flushed skin, swollen. He’s always gorgeous, but right now he’s particularly incredible. He slides his hand down my front and grabs my belt buckle. “Can I?”
“Yes,” I sigh. “May I reciprocate?”
“Yeah, pretentious git.” We both chuckle quietly. And as Snow kisses me again, I realise that’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh in awhile. School work and stress have made him quiet and sullen. And then I hurt him today.
I love his laugh. I swear I’ll make him laugh more from now on.
It’s hard for two people to undo belts at the same time, especially while snogging. Simon succeeds first and promptly shoves his whole hand down my pants. Ungraceful, but effective. I moan into his mouth. I finally wrestle his jeans open and do the same. Simon presses closer, tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth. We’re breathing so hard that we can’t kiss, noses brushing against each other instead.
Merlin and Morgana, I’ve missed this, missed him. I’ve missed his mouth, his hands, his muttered Normal curses as I touch him. His warmth spreads from him to my hand to my entire body, setting every one of my dead cells alight. I feel so alive with him. No matter how many messes he makes and how scared I may be to share my flat, I love Simon Snow with all my heart. That will never change.
“I love you,” I moan against his mouth. “Crowley, I love you so damn much, Simon.”
“I love you too,” he breathes back, and a wave of relief falls over me. Rationally I knew one fight wouldn’t end us. But, still, he still loves me. Thank Merlin.
I kiss him hard, trying to push the tangled mess of overwhelming feelings I have for him through my mouth. My love and apologies and gratitude for having him, even though I’m an arse who doesn’t understand his own feelings. Simon kisses back just as hard, using his free hand to tug on my hair. I move my hand faster. He does the same. Both our breaths get more shallow. Our lips pull apart as Snow presses his face into my neck and finishes with growl. (He always growls. It turns me on far more than it should.) I follow close behind, gasping and shaking with my head thrown back. My skin tingles like I’ve been electrocuted in the most pleasant way. Somehow, this feels better than anything in the world.
We spend a long moment just standing there. Snow breathes heavily against me, warming my skin. The lightning and thunder are gone. Just the soft sound of spitting droplets against the window panes. I weave my fingers through Simon’s still soaked curls. He grips my waist tighter. I could stay here forever. (Well, maybe I want to go and change my pants. They’re starting to feel very sticky and uncomfortable.) I’m scared to say anything, to break this post coital silence. I don’t want to fight again. I just want him here, in my arms forever.
“Did...” Simon breathes out, “did we just wank each other off against a wall like a couple of horny teenagers?”
A laugh immediately bursts out of my lungs like a firework in the sky. I can’t help it. He’s so fucking cute. Simon starts laughing too. It’s amazing to feel his giggles vibrate across my skin. Our joyous sounds radiate through the entire flat. He slowly moves back until our noses brush, sharing laughter in the space between us.
As our breath comes back to us, Simon moves further back. I’m torn between pulling him against me again and staring into his round blue eyes. I move my hand down his jaw, tracing over his strong jaw and still swollen bottom lip. Snow brings his clean hand up and brushes my cheek with the back of his fingers. It’s like I’m a painting, a statue, something beautiful and precious. It still astounds me that he treats me like that.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry I was a prick. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you. I’m just, so very sorry.”
Snow lets out a small sigh then smiles softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry I lost it.”
“It’s okay, you had every right to.”
“Still, shouldn’t have yelled. That was mean.”
“Okay,” I sigh. “We have a lot to talk about. Issues and all.”
Simon nods slowly. “Yeah, I know.”
I straighten up, holding him firmly. “Want to clean up and do it now?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I just wanna go to bed now I think. We can talk in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah, that’s alright. Let’s wash up.”
We finally get each other’s hands out of our pants. They’re quite disgusting of course. Snow steps back and offers his free one to me. I take it, weaving our fingers together. He smiles softly at me, and my heart flutters. We stroll hand in hand to the bathroom.
Snow and I wash our hands and take a quick shower. Though it takes a little more time than it should be, considering we stop to kiss. Just kissing, nothing more, but it’s still heavenly. He cups my cheek in that tender way I love so much, that reminds me that I’m loved. I try to do the same with my fingers curled around his nape. We stand there for awhile, soaked and tired and stupidly in love.
When the water gets cold, we sadly have to step out. Snow throws on his shirt and trackies, leaving his soaked clothes on the ground. I make a point not to say a single thing as I put on my silk pyjamas. Snow calls them stupidly posh, I call them comfortable. I get into bed first, and Snow follows close behind, laying himself practically on top of me like the world’s warmest blanket. I wrap my arms around him tight. I would keep him on me forever if I could.
“Night. Love you,” he mumbles just before he drifts off. I squeeze him tight, pressing my lips to his hairline.
“I love you too,” I whisper, “always.”
And I drift off as well, with Simon Snow firmly in my arms.
Simon
I wake up slowly. My muscles come back alive one by one. I notice immediately that the blanket has been kicked down. Baz must be cold. I reach towards his side of the bed, but all I feel is air. My eyes flutter open, and I frown at the empty space next to me. Where is he? Did he go out to feed or something? I thought he had a blood stock in the fridge. But then I hear the faint sound of sizzling and a waft of bacon smell. I’m instantly on my feet and speed walking towards the kitchen.
Baz is standing in front of the stove, humming a violin piece to himself. His hair is adorably messy, just the way I like it. He looks so pretty. Most of my anger from last night fades away by just looking at him.
I walk towards him in long strides and wrap my arms around his waist. He doesn’t even jolt like he used to. Almost a year later, and he’s finally gotten used to unprompted affection. I lean my chin on his shoulder. Bacon is sizzling on the pan. I hum happily at the lovely smell.
“Morning,” I say.
“Morning,” Baz replies. “I’ve made chocolate chip pancakes for me and cherry pancakes for you. You slept for awhile so they’re sitting in the fridge right now. I would have put them in the oven but you were still out cold. Didn't want to burn the flat down because you were tired."
I press a kiss to his neck, right over his bite scar. It’s my personal mission to make him less self conscious about that scar all the time. He leans into it, humming softly, so the mission is going well. “You’re the best.”
His body locks up, and I wonder if I said something wrong. I loosen my arms and wait for Baz to step out, but instead he just turns off the over and turns around. His face is all hard and serious now.
“Can we talk now?” he asks softly.
My heart is beating fast. I’m not angry anymore, but I know he’s right. I know I had good reasons and probably so does he. Time to do the worst thing ever: talk about feelings. I nod slowly and jump up on the counter behind me.
“Yeah,” I sigh, “let’s talk.”
He puts his elbows on the other counter, looking me in the eye. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”
“Uh, I can, I guess.” I pick at my wrist slightly. “I-I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really hard few weeks and I just snapped. That was bad, I shouldn't have taken it out on you.” I pick even more furiously. “But...I’m not sorry about what I said. I know that sounds mean and shit, but like, you berate me every time I’ve come here. I know I’m messy and shit and I’ll try to be better, I really promise. But, we’re dating now, so I thought we were being nicer. It’s okay if you get mad at me, I probably deserve it sometimes. All I ask is for you to be nicer about it. I don’t like fighting or being mean, and everytime I come over I feel like you get super pissy with me, like you did back at Watford. It hurts.” I fiddle with my shaking fingers. “Honestly, Baz, sometimes I just feel like you don’t want me here...”
I finally look up again. Baz’s expression is heartbreaking. He looks so sad and hurt. “But I still wanna be with you,” I say rapidly. “I still love you. I-I wasn’t lying or anything last night.”
A small smile spreads over his face. He walks forward and takes my hands, making them stop shake. “Thank you, Simon. I love and still want to be with you too. And I’m very sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. There’s no excuse for it, just a reason.”
“A reason?”
“Yes. Two, really. One: I’m an introverted control freak who has trouble dealing with other people invading my space. You know that one.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Do I ever.”
“And two: deep down, I may have been a bit scared to share somewhere with you again.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
“It’s not your fault, Snow, don’t worry. It’s just...” He bites his bottom lip nervously. “The last time I lived with you wasn’t exactly pleasant. I was hopelessly in love with you while under the assumption that one day you would kill me. Deep down, I may have associated sharing my living space with you with pain. Though I don’t know how much I trust Niall’s psychobabble.”
“Wait, wait, what does this have to do with Niall?”
“Oh, well...” he chuckles. “After you left, I called Niall for advice.”
A giggle bursts out of my mouth, a big grin across my face. “Seriously? You called Niall for advice? The guy who tried to swing on a bar chandelier a month ago?”
“Well, he may do dumb things while drunk, but he is a psych major. I thought he might have some particular insight. He said your clutter making were you trying to make a mark in my space or something and I was hurting you by rejecting it.”
“A mark? I’m not a dog pissing on a post.”
“That’s what I told him. But some of the stuff he said made sense.” His hands slide up my arms, thumbs caressing my skin. “I think I have been frightened, at least subconsciously. I haven’t been making room in my flat for you, even though you made room for me in your’s. Plus I’ve been a complete prick to you. That’s wrong and I apologize. And I want to show you something.”
He tugs on my hand and I jump off the counter. He leads me back into his room, right up to his old oak dresser. Still holding my hand, he uses the other to tug open one of the top drawers.
“Look inside,” Baz says.
I give him a strange look, but he doesn’t say anything else. I shrug, then pull open the drawer and see...nothing. “An empty drawer,” I say slowly. “You’re showing me an empty drawer?”
“Yes. It’s empty because it’s your drawer.”
I look at him with even more confusion. “Mine?”
Baz rolls his eyes sarcastically. “Yes, Snow. It’s for you to put your stuff in. Clothes, a toothbrush, midnight snacks, whatever you want. Because,” he wraps his arms around my waist, “you have a place here, in my home, with me. Always.”
My chest feels warm and light, like someone has lit a match in my heart and blown on the tinder. I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight, pressing my face into his shoulder. Baz hugs me back just as hard.
“I love you so much,” I whisper.
“I love you too,” he replies.
“Let’s not fight like that again, please.”
Baz giggles, rubbing my back. “Agreed. Though I did like the angry makeup sex part.”
I start giggling as well, leaning back to smile at him. “Yeah, that was pretty fun. Got rid of some of that finals stress too.”
He quirks his eyebrow. “Some? Not all?”
Hm, where is he going with this? “Yeah. I mean, I’ve got the calculus 101 exam is in three days and that’s got me in knots.”
“I see. I could help you...unwind a bit. We haven’t seen each other in weeks after all.” His hands trail down my sides, holding my hips. A sly smile plays on his mouth. Oh, oh. I grin ear to ear, moving my hands up into his smooth hair.
“While I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that, what about breakfast?”
“Well, food can always be reheated. And who says we can’t have breakfast food for lunch?”
I weave my fingers further up, twisting a black strand around my index. “Or maybe for supper?”
Baz’s smirk turns into a full grin. “You’re scandalous.”
“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black?”
“Maybe, but you’re not complaining.”
“Absolutely not.” I stand on my toes so my mouth is next to his ear. “So what are you waiting for?”
And that’s the last thing I say, because Baz kisses me hard, taking all the words out of my mouth. I pull on his hair just the way he likes. I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist. Baz catches me like always, easily keeping me steady. I will admit, his vampire strength is kind of hot. He walks us to the bed, where I land flat on my back. He presses close and I try to pull him even closer. My wings stretch up, turning the world into just the two of us.
There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
hypothetically_writing Fri 02 Aug 2019 05:13PM UTC
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