Work Text:
Baz unlocked the door to Simon and Penny’s shared flat. Right now, it was a mess because Penny had gone to America to visit Micha. Simon had been by himself more than usual between Penny being gone and Baz working at the bakery across the street. Baz sorely needed volunteer hours to graduate, and Simon has begged him to volunteer at ‘The Cinnamonsuns.’
So Baz had bright Simon’s favorite, sour cherry scones and six, count’em, six, slabs of butter just for him. Simon was lazily sprawled, (I.e, pouting in pajamas) on the brown corduroy couch that Penny’s parents had given them, covered in layers of crumbs. Baz entered quietly, the paper bag holding the scones crinkling slightly, but that wasn’t what gave him away.
Baz was always surprised, for some reason, at Simons ability to smell food anywhere in a three hundred meter radius of himself. It was astonishing, and at times, disturbing. Simon tensed, his chin raising his nose slightly to sniff the air, he suddenly leaped over the back of the couch and his eyes darted from Baz’s face the bag in Baz’s hands. Simon gave him his very best puppy eyes, but Baz wasn’t having that, not without a kiss first.
Baz smirked, he leaned in towards Simon, he was taller, he was always taller than Simon by at least three inches, and kissed him. It was soft and warm and sweet. This was home to Baz, and Simon would -hopefully- always be home to him.