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Baz has always been in love with Simon Snow, there was never any doubt about that. Simon was the first person he ever loved, and he was sure that he would be the only one he ever loved, too. He had loved him since they were kids and they were shooting glares at each other in class or throwing punches at each other in the forest, in the hidden halls of the school where no one would see. (He both loved and hated himself for hurting Simon-- it was a complex series of emotion influenced by his true feelings and the feelings that his parents and Aunt Fiona spoon fed him like he was a baby that couldn’t feed himself yet.) There wasn’t a second that he stopped loving Simon Snow, despite how much Simon tested him with his utter stupidity sometimes.
Once they got together, Baz never stopped reminding Simon about the fact that he loved him. Sometimes, late at night, when neither of them could sleep, with tortured thoughts keeping them up, they would kiss each other’s rough edges smooth again. (Baz always started this, he could always notice when Simon got worked up and needed unwinding.) Kissing him, Baz would whisper about how he loved him more than every star that dotted the dark sky above them, that he was his sun and he could never look away from his brilliance, that he was the happiest man alive, being able to lie with him and kiss him. When Simon would kiss him, he would sigh out little affirmations of love as his breath escaped him, Simon stealing it all for himself as he pressed his lips against his own.
He would tell Simon that he loved him when he noticed Simon was upset about the things that went on that night at Watford. He would hold him and call him love and tell him that he loved him no matter what. He would kiss his hair and whisper about how, magic or not, he was his stupidly handsome boyfriend who he wondered why he was even dating when he saw him put too much butter on his scones in the morning. He loved every single thing about him, down to the way his new tail flicked and made him all more expressive and annoyingly hot. Simon would always protest and pout but Baz would easily shut him up with more kisses and praise and sweet nothings.
And some nights, after dates, when they laid down in bed, Simon crawling on top of him and starting to press trailing kisses to him, from his jaw and sinking lower, he would say it then. His breath would hitch when he pressed a kiss to his hips and the phrase would spill out of his lips like a dam breaking (among other, dirtier phrases. Simon loved to tease and it just wasn’t fair .) Then Simon would look up at him with those eyes , silent as ever like he was waiting for Baz to ask the right thing, and he would break and crumble under his gaze. He would always do anything for Simon Snow.
Baz didn’t always say it in serious moments, though, not just in quiet and private places between the two of them. No, he didn’t care who knew that he loved Simon Snow, his childhood enemy who his father wanted him to kill since The Mage started all of his nonsense against the Old Families. It was the easiest way to get to The Mage, he had told him on the way to his first day of school, The Mage would undo everything they were founded upon. That never stopped him from falling all too hard for Simon, though, and now he was here, with him, happy. He never thought that he would ever get to have this moment.
So excuse him for taking every chance he could to tell Simon that he loved him.
The phrase came too easily out of him, too, over the simplest of things. He wasn’t sure when he started letting it fall from his lips so easy, but the weight of them felt right, and he always meant it every single time, no matter how casual his tone was. “Ugh, I love you,” would slip out of Baz’s mouth when Simon brought him a sugary coffee drink from the coffee shop they loved so much, followed by a kiss to his cheek. He would end phone calls with it, or say it before rushed goodbye kisses because Simon was late for his classes, even before drifting off to sleep at night when they were cuddling. He paired it with rolled eyes when Simon did something stupid-- adorable, but stupid-- which would always earn him a dorky grin that made his cheeks heat.
Simon never said it back, and Baz never expected him to. His affirmations of love were usually met with smiles or flustered looks or gentle ‘I know’s whispered between them. Sometimes he even dared return the phrase with the roll of his eyes (that git) or shake of his head when he knew Baz was being all too sappy for his own good. Though, they were never returned with ‘I love you too’s, not yet.
Baz knew that Simon wasn’t ready to say it quite yet, and it was okay. Simon hadn’t spent what felt like a lifetime loving him (unless somehow him obsessing over the whole vampire thing was his subconscious trying to deal with a crush while also trying to make Simon keep thinking that he was straight. That’d be some kind of cruel joke, it had to be.) He had loved Wellbelove for a time and, despite his jealousy, Baz understood that. Liking boys was new for Simon, hell, liking Baz was still a relatively new thing for him, too. It was going to take him a while longer before he would be comfortable with such a strong word; “like” was much easier, less scary to use for now. Baz had used it himself when he was young before he realized that he was truly in love with Simon.
He made sure Simon knew he could take his time with anything that he needed to, to take it slow if something might be a little weird to him. Simon, in all his glory, who could never slow down even when it came to the infuriating bouncing of his leg when they were in class or eating or watching TV, only bothered to take his time on this one thing.
And Baz was okay with that. He had already waited forever, what was just a little bit longer?
He half expected it to be this big thing for Simon to say it back, some intimate moment right before fantastic sex or on the most romantic date that Baz could pay for (which, might he add, would be very romantic.) Though, he had to stop expecting big gestures from the idiot who could barely get his words out when they were in school. Simon didn’t think much-- he knew that, he had told him-- so he should’ve expected what was to happen. It was like how they did everything; he had no right to be surprised by the presentation.
“Baz, I love you, but you’re a real arsehole.”
Baz looked up from where he was perched on the arm of the couch, going through the books on Bunce’s bookshelf. He was trying to sort through them, figuring out which ones were his that he had lent her, and which ones he left lying around her and Simon’s shared apartment long enough that she just added them to her collection. He needed all of his back now that he couldn’t frequent their apartment and bug them constantly. However, their new arrangement was much more favorable; they were finally moving in together.
The beginning of the sentence caught him by surprise, though. He was sure that Simon hadn’t even realized what he had said, the words rushing out of his mouth, smug with his small insult (even though Baz knew that he could do better.) His lips parted as soon as he said it, wondering just how long he had been thinking that for it to come out so easily, so smoothly, without him even knowing he said it. The thought sent a warm feeling through his chest that he usually only got after he fed.
He feigned offense to hide his surprise. “Me? An arsehole?”
“Yeah. You’re looking through the books because you don’t want to help me carry the boxes out.” Simon almost had a pout on his face if it weren’t for the trace of annoyance. Ah, reminding him of the good old days, now.
“ No , I’m looking through the books because I want mine back, and you would just complain if I forced you to help, so I didn’t bother asking. Bunce is at work, so she’s no help here, and it has to be done.” Baz said as he looked through the books again, only looking up to give Simon a pointed stare.
“Tosser.”
“But you love this tosser,” Baz’s lips curled into a grin as he saw Simon’s eyes widen a little and begin to stumble over his words. He set the book in his hand aside in favor of standing and crossing the room to meet him in just a few, elegant strides. He wrapped his arms around Simon’s neck and leaned in, whispering, “I love you too,” before closing the gap between them for the sweetest kiss he could possibly deliver.