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"Look, this is the part when the exorcist lady comes in," Simon says excitedly, pointing at his laptop's screen.
Said lady does so literally, as she's walking into the family home haunted by some demonic entity. They made it awfully clear that there is some bad stuff going on by the way her expression changes for the worse few seconds after coming into the house.
"She is the most badass exorcist," Simon carries on. "I mean, technically she is a psychic, but could easily pass as an exorcist. I mean there is Father Karras, but Elise is much more exciting to watch. Sorry, not sorry, Father."
Thing is, Simon Snow is a horror movie junkie. I didn't know of it before we got together, and wasn't really expecting it, but I guess it is what it is. I talked with the girls, and before the boyfriend thing, it was Bunce's and occasionally Wellbelove's duty to watch unholy amounts of scary movies with Simon, and now they kindly passed on the cross to me. Not that I mind too much. There are a lot worse things to watch, like comedy or reality TV. Or western, Crowley forbid.
I won't say I wholeheartedly like the genre but there are some good movies, now and then. The only thing I banned from our never-ending watchlist is vampire movies. What a bunch of bullshit. Fuck the glitter and the coffins.
"Baz, pay attention," Simon says and squeezes my hand with his own. (We're holding hands non-stop; his hands are so warm.) "This is the first time Elise sees it. The fucker is in the ceiling corner. It's probably gawking down at them menacingly, hissing and shit."
Suddenly everything becomes intense. The picture, the music, the woman's—Elise's—eyes as she holds eye contact with something invisible for the viewer. She is describing what she sees to the man next to her who scribbles it down on paper so quickly you'd think his life depended on it. Maybe it does depend on it, I don't know. The man is a paranormal helper of some sort, the shorter one out of the two.
The suspense ends abruptly when they stop what they're doing and show the drawing to the wife and the husband.
"It's The Man with the Fire in His Face," Simon says dramatically. The drawing shows the ceiling corner where a pitch-black figure holds himself up with a blood red face. The colours are striking on the white paper.
"Is that the demon that haunts them?" I ask Simon. He has seen this movie already. I think he has already seen everything we watch together. I don't mind.
He nods. "It is," he says. "But not the only one. You'll see," he adds suspiciously.
I roll my eyes but keep on watching the movie. The psychic, the wife, the husband, and the paternal grandmother all sit down at the dining table. They moved out of their old home to this new one, only for the blasted thing to follow them over there. Typical.
Grandma goes on telling a vision she saw in her dreams. We see a bedroom and something lurking in the room corner, pointing at the comatose child. It seems to be the demon that was described earlier.
"Baz, the best jump scare in the history of jump scares is coming right up," Simon goes on. He keeps squeezing my hand. He does that when he is excited.
"Is that so?"
"Yes!" Simon chirps. "You would expect the jump scare to happen while the grandmother is telling us her story when they show us the dark bedroom and the demonic figure. But nothing happens. Still, you can't stop feeling uneasy because they've built up the suspense and nothing happened. Then, they are back at the table with these bright blue walls behind them, and their heads are in these very close shots. And they keep on talking with each other. And bam! The demon's face appears behind the man without any preparation! Did you know that this movie is probably the scariest movie ever made based on a study on the viewers' average heart rate during the movie? You wouldn't expect it to happen so blatantly in broad daylight after a night scene, and even if someone is immune to jump scares, the harsh colour difference between the face and the wall ought to get a reaction out of them. It's brilliant."
Sure enough, we get close shots of their heads. The male protagonist is played by the same actor who was Ed Warren in The Conjuring. I think he is called Josh in this movie, but I keep calling him Ed. The name stuck with me as we have seen both The Conjuring and Annabelle not long before. Simon, a true expert of the macabre, told me all about the real Bathsheba and the Annabelle doll, and how they toned down the supernatural deeds of the Warrens for the Normal cinema. I keep on waiting for Lorraine to come in as in the previous two films. She reminds me of Daphne. It's not her movie though.
The scene goes on with rapid switching between faces, and then, just as Simon described, the demon's head appears behind Ed's shoulder.
It's definitely hard on the eyes in a bizarre sort of way, unnaturally black and red. It does nothing though, just appears then disappears. The family starts shrieking.
"Seven snakes when I tell you I saw a demon exactly like this one once on a mission," Simon says. "Told the Mage head on I'm not dealing with that."
"It kinda looks like that tattooed bloke from Star Wars. That dark mole or whoever."
Simon stops the movie and looks at me unimpressed.
"What?" I ask. I feel my eyebrow raising on instinct.
"Is that all you have to say after the best jump scare in the history of jump scares?" he huffs.
"Shit might be scary for the Normals but I'm not a Normal, remember? Also, you know that you spoiled the part exactly before it happened, right?"
Simon blushes from his neck to his ears. "Fuck, I did spoil it, didn't I?" Sweet Morgana, this boy is impossible not to love. "Why didn't you say that I'm spoiling it?" he pouts.
I smile and kiss his reddened nose. "And stop you from embarrassing yourself? Never."
There are not too many talking topics that Simon Snow is truly enthusiastic about. But he is clever and has interesting things to say once he forgets about himself and just talks. I want to hear him talk, I want to hear his thoughts. About the world, people, horror movies. I take whatever chance I get to listen to his clumsy, lovely sentences.
Simon huffs, then bites down on my nose in retaliation. My vision is full of his brilliantly white teeth and determined eyes.
"Ahh, what the fuck!" I exclaim but can't help myself from laughing. "Snow, you impulsive fool, what are you doing?"
He draws his mouth back, but not before licking my nose. He is smiling like crazy. Damn this boy and damn my soft heart for him. "Just checking out the shape."
I push him in the chest, and he laughs harder. "Fuck you." I laugh, too.
Simon whistles and tries to pull a seductive look. (He can't do it when he is actively trying. Any other time… well, you know it.) "Fuck me." He kisses my nose again for good measure. "You could at least pretend to get scared, you know…" he mumbles under my chin.
"Simon, love. I was trapped in a coffin under a bridge for six fucking weeks. I cannot get scared anymore." That is not exactly true. I'm scared of losing him every day. I don't tell him that.
His face falls a little. "I'm sorry, Baz," he says and tucks himself closer to me, his arms wrapping around my middle. I hug him back.
"It's not your fault," I say. "It's just, the dark fucks with your mind, and you start seeing all kinds of things. All alone in that dark place, I was surely going crazy."
"I wish I had gotten to you sooner," he says, and I feel his chin jutting against my chest. Ever the hero. He got the complex for the rest of his life.
"You were there, Simon."
He looks up at me, confused.
"How so?" he asks.
I sigh. I haven't told him this before. I haven't told anyone, really.
"I meant that you were there for me the whole time," I say and tap his head. "In here. In my thoughts. You were the reason I managed to stay sane and alive. The thought of you, just the thought of your face was enough for me to carry on, my love."
I see a single tear rolling down his cheeks. He sniffs and brushes it away. "I'm sorry," he says again.
"Don't be."
Simon shakes his head and starts kissing my collarbone. His mouth is positively melting my lukewarm skin. "You don't understand," he says and leaves hot kisses all over my neck. "None of this would have happened if we got together earlier. If only I had realized how much you mean to me," he says and stops to look me in the eye. "Nobody would have taken you from me. I would fucking dare them to try."
With that he full-on straddles my lap and puts his warm hands on my cheeks while kissing me. It's good, it's always so good. His hands are gently rubbing circles into my face, and he is doing that thing with his chin. His ultimate kissing move that erases everything from my head that is not him. Only him.
I roam my hands all over his back while he is kissing my mouth with fiery determination. Our tongues are clashing. Simon puts one hand into my hair and moves it through my scalp. I moan and he moans back. I can feel myself hardening under his plush bottom. My cock is digging into his thighs, and his cock is hard as well, raging against my stomach. I squeeze his butt.
Simon draws back, and he looks absolutely stunning with some spit on his lips. He licks it away. His eyes are dark with lust.
"I want to make you feel good," he decides. Simon drags his trackie-clad arse against my erection to show what he means. "Can I?"
I grope his bum with both hands and lie back on the bed. "You don't have to ask."
Simon smiles and climbs on top of me, his hands two sides of my head. "I do because you are important to me, Baz," he says and dives down for my mouth again. "You are the most important thing in my life." He trails kisses wherever he finds skin on his way to my bulge.
"Let's free you, shall we," he says and drags both my jeans and pants down in one victorious swoop.
"Yes, please," I breathe. Good fuck, he is already eating me up with his eyes.
Simon rests himself above my cock and takes it in his hand. It becomes my warmest body part when I'm erect, but the heat of his palm still makes me suppress a hiss. He strokes it languidly for a few long seconds, then spits on my head.
"So fucking big and hard," he says, then starts licking my cockhead with his tongue and coats it evenly with his spit. The thought of his saliva mixing with my precum makes me buck up in chase of his wet mouth. Simon smirks and finally takes me into his warm heat.
I can't help myself from moaning now, and that seems to encourage him. He doesn't go down fully yet, just moves his tongue around sinfully. He keeps the rest of my dick in a tight fist. My own hand is in his soft curls, but I'm not doing anything with it. He is free to go at his own pace.
"Is it good?" Simon asks, then goes back to sucking right after. His other hand is rubbing my stomach. I'm coming alive under his touch.
"Very good," I say and pet his curls. He moans around my length with closed eyes and goes down on it until he hits the base.
I feel myself twitching against the back of his velvety smooth throat. He is arching his back like the devil he is. His trackies are hanging low on his hips. I can see the golden skin at the base of his back.
All that butter and Chosen One cardio gave Simon a delectably round bum. It's the type of buttocks you want to sink your teeth in, among other things.
He holds my whole being in his mouth for a few seconds, then draws back with an audible pop.
"You are so fucking hot, Baz," Simon says and leaves open-mouthed kisses on my thighs.
I make an embarrassed laugh, and groan when he goes back to sucking. "You are not bad yourself, Snow."
He is giving it all he got now, determined to make me turn into a fucked-out puddle. My cock keeps hitting the wall of his throat, and it makes all kinds of sloppy sounds. He takes my balls in his hand and fondles them with his thumb. I think I definitely wouldn't allow anyone else to touch my balls. He sneaks his fingers a little lower and rubs circles around my rim. Fucking hell, I'm fairly certain he has the most talented hands in the whole universe.
I'm getting close to coming. Simon's trackies have gotten significantly lower over time, and I see that he is rutting his cock against the sheets like a man possessed. He crooks his finger inside my hole and sinks down on me fully until his nose is in my pubes.
"So good, Simon. So fucking good, just like that." He moans and that's the last push I need. "Fuck, I'm coming!" I groan and fall back on the bed from the power of my orgasm. The way he is moving a finger in and out of me makes me come extra hard. Simon is swallowing all of me down with audible noises of pleasure. I know when his own orgasm hits him without looking from the sounds and vibrations he makes around me.
Simon feels it when I become overstimulated and pulls back. I look up and see him on his knees. He is blushing madly, and his hair is slightly dishevelled. His cock is semi-hard already, some spunk still dripping out of it. What a lovely mess. He looks absolutely mouth-watering. I see the thick spurts of come he shot onto the sheets while blowing me. The sight makes me harden again, too.
Simon is panting and smiling softly at me.
"Come here, love," I say and beckon him into my arms. Simon moves and lies on top of me with his whole body, a secure weight that means home to me.
He kisses me slowly, and I feel my own seed heavy on his tongue. He is lapping my mouth up passionately, and I do the same. His mouth tastes sweet of cherry scones from earlier. And of my come. And something that is just quintessential Simon Snow. I would call it the taste of life.
"How was it, babe?" he asks, grinning.
"It was good as always, Simon," I say and kiss his forehead. "You are still the best at this."
Simon nuzzles my face with his nose. I nuzzle back at him. It's something he does a lot, like a very affectionate, albeit quite overgrown cat. He noses at my neck, my chest, my face. I picked up doing it from him, and I do it constantly now as well. It's way too domestic but also all I ever wanted, I guess.
"You deserve the best, Baz," he says and tucks some hair behind my ear.
You are the best for me, I think.
"Baz?"
"Yes?"
"Can I make love to you?" He is kissing my neck again with renewed passion.
"Yes, please," I breathe.
"Don't say please," Simon says while dragging his hands along my sides. He grabs my T-shirt and pulls it over my head. He is kissing my freed-up chest. I'm burning up under him. "You are so fucking beautiful, Baz," he says and kisses my nipples, my stomach, my navel. "Let me just grab the lube, babe."
"Okay."
While he does that, I cast a quick cleaning spell on my hole. Simon is already back on me when I put my wand back to its place.
"Can I open you up?" he asks with his hands on my thighs.
"Yes."
Simon lubes up his long fingers generously and starts by putting a single finger inside me. He inches forward slowly, thoughtfully. His mouth is leaving invisible marks on my thighs. I savour each and every one of his kisses. I never thought I'd get even a single kiss from Simon Snow, so each one is a blessing.
"Are you ready for another?"
I put my hand on his forearm and squeeze. "Yes," I say and take the opportunity to have a good look at him now that he is fully naked. His hands are strong from so many battles fought, yet so delicate when touching me. He carries the weight of the World of Mages on his shoulders. His stomach is soft. I will never let him spend a summer alone ever again. No bones, no ribs showing, just softness and health and warmth and life. Simon Snow is so alive. His hair is a mess of golden-brown curls. He lets it grow out now. I told him I love it more when it's longer, or well, as long as curly hair can get. And he lets me take care of it as well. His skin is a whole other story I could sing about. A sea of freckles and moles and sunshine for me to explore. I want to spend my life exploring it. I want to spend my life with him.
Simon is moving two fingers in and out of me precisely, then adds another not long after. He surges up for my mouth and kisses me long and unhurried. I put my arms around his neck and sigh into his mouth.
"I'm going to make you feel so good, Baz," Simon says. "I'm going to make you happy as long as you let me."
"Forever, then," I say, and his eyes gain a whole new colour of emotion.
"Forever?" he asks softly, a bit unbelieving, I think.
"Forever," I say and feel like losing control of my emotions so I act on impulse. I bite down on his nose the same way he did not long before.
He shriek-laughs. "What the hell, Baz? What's that supposed to mean?"
"I thought you were into biting, Snow."
Simon licks his lips and swallows. "Fuck, I am. You can do it again, anytime, anywhere."
I groan. "Just put your cock in me already."
"Alright," he says with a last kiss and lubes himself up. Simon has a big, deliciously thick cock. There is a single freckle near the base of his shaft. It's perfect just like the rest of him, and he definitely knows how to use it.
I take hold of his hand and squeeze it. He squeezes back.
"Ready?"
"Yes," I say, and he prods my entrance with his head. Let me tell you that everything is a lot bigger once it has to go inside you. Simon is very gentle with me though. I told him I like it this way, when he takes his time with his touches and actions. I don't want to be rushed. He, on the other hand, prefers it harder, rougher, faster. Always more, more, more. And I give it to him because nothing makes me happier than giving him what he wants.
On days like this one though, I need all his gentleness and soft kisses. In my adolescent fantasies, I always thought that it could only ever work with blood and swords and goodbye kisses. I guess they were just that. Fantasies. But this is much better than that. It's safe, slow, warm, everything I never had after I was Turned.
Simon enters me carefully, holding my hand through it and looking into my eyes the whole time. His blue blue blue eyes are so full of love that I feel my slow heart going overtime inside my chest. When he bottoms out, he cups my cheeks and kisses me on the mouth with all the tenderness in the world.
I never thought that anyone could care about me this much.
"Are you okay, Baz?" Simon asks. I feel my insides accommodate his size. It's a stretch, but the discomfort always quickly turns to pleasure.
"Yes, love. It's so good. You can move now," I say, and he pulls out slowly before thrusting back inside.
"Okay," Simon says and smiles. "Just tell me if there is anything."
I twist my legs behind his back and my arms behind his neck and revel in his warmth. He is moving in and out of me with a slow but steady pace. And talks. A lot.
"You are so perfect, Baz. Everything about you. Your skin and your hair and your body. Fuck, your body was made to be admired. So fit and strong and beautiful. You are the strongest, smartest, most beautiful person I know. You are perfect, babe."
I'm drinking his words. He is not this talkative usually. It's good, it's so good to hear his thoughts about me. I need to hear them otherwise I can't believe it's real.
I wish he'd let me worship him the same way he worships me.
"So firm yet so soft in my hands," Simon continues. "I never wanted anything as much as I want you, Baz."
Simon keeps dragging his cock against my prostate, and I'm a moaning mess. His hands and mouth are warming me up everywhere he touches and kisses me. I have drunk not long before so there is probably some colour on my cheeks.
Simon goes a little faster and puts a hand on my prick. He stays in me for a few seconds before thrusting out and back in again. He is nosing at my neck. I feel my precome smearing his fingers.
"I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," he promises against my skin. "I'll protect you until the day I die and find a way to do that in death as well. You'll always be safe with me, Baz."
I take his face in my hands and kiss him long and certain.
"You promise?" I ask, breathless.
"I promise," he says against my lips.
I think Simon is getting close. He starts stroking my cock faster and picks up the speed on my hole. "So good, babe. So fucking tight inside, fuck," he says while chasing his own pleasure. I'm so full of his love. "Where do you want me to come?" he asks without stopping his thrusting.
"Inside, please," I say and drag him down on me to kiss his lips. I want to be kissing him when we both come apart. Simon moves his tongue inside my mouth just as he moves inside my hole, and thrusts himself in one last time. We both come at the same time. I feel his warm come shoot deep inside me, and my own is spurting all over Simon's hand and my stomach. We swallow up each other's sounds of dying.
He draws back from the kiss but stays inside me. "I love you so much, Baz," he says and nuzzles my chin.
"I love you so much, Simon," I say and kiss his forehead. "You made me feel very good. You always do."
He looks away shily, then back at me. "You know that I meant everything I said, right? I want you to have me as long as you want me."
"I know," I say. "I meant it, too. Everything."
He looks so happy that it makes me want to burst inside. "Good."
"We should probably take a shower now, Simon," I say. The bliss is fading while the stickiness becomes irritatingly apparent.
"Can we stay like this for five more minutes?" He asks and lays his head on my chest.
"Sure, love."
…
After some hot, erotic fooling around in the shower, we are back in the bed. The other bed. We will do the laundry tomorrow.
Simon is tucked in my arms with his head under my chin. We are in our pyjamas, or I guess I am. Simon is shirtless in the same trackie bottoms as before.
"What, they got nothing on them," he said. I just shook my head.
He stirs and intrudes my eyesight.
"So, umm… can we watch the movie now? They still haven't gone into the Further."
"Simon Snow, you incorrigible fool," I say and go for the nose.