Work Text:
Simon all but threw himself onto the sofa where Baz had been peacefully watching Bake Off for the past three hours. Baz and Penny were both on holiday for the week, but Penny had decided to go to America which meant Simon had begged Baz to stay with him while she was gone. It wasn’t a hard sell.
The thing is, Baz may not have classes, but Simon still had to work. Which Simon hadn’t accounted for when he spent the past few days daydreaming about having the whole flat to themselves. So far, rather than spend their nights making up for seven years of pent up sexual frustration on both ends, they’d actually spent their nights cuddled up watching telly or reading.
Rather, Baz spent his nights watching telly or reading while Simon nuzzled into his chest and fell asleep. When Simon fell half on top of him, he figured tonight would be no different. Not that he cared, because he loved spending any time he could with Simon, even if it’s just acting as a pillow. Simon still smelled like the bakery, like sugar and vanilla and despite no longer having his magic he still had that smokey, woodsy smell underneath that must just be him.
Simon’s face was buried in Baz’s neck and Baz instinctively looped an arm over his shoulders. And then Simon was sniffling and there was something warm and wet against Baz’s skin and Baz pushed at Simon’s shoulders gently, concern etched into his face.
“What’s going on?” He asked, cupping Simon’s cheek and wiping at a tear running down his face with the pad of his thumb. “Snow, what happened?”
What happened was that Simon had the absolute worst day. He had slept through his alarm that morning, which he had never done in his entire life. His alarms were really just a cautionary thing, because most days he was awake well before they even thought of going off. But not today, no. Today he woke up forty-five minutes after he was supposed to, which was a half hour later than usual because he knew he didn’t need as much time in the morning as he typically gave himself so he could spare sleeping an extra thirty minutes.
Baz slept through this chaos, though he had noticed the signs when he’d gotten up a few hours later. The toothpaste was left uncapped on the edge of the sink, Simon’s pyjama bottoms were tossed haphazardly in the corner, and a half eaten slice of toast had been left on the counter. These just seemed like the typical Simon’s A Bit Of A Mess things, though, and he thought nothing of it.
Simon had arrived at work nearly an hour late, which earned him a right talking to from his manager immediately. And today he didn’t have the luxury of working with the nice manager, oh no, he had the hateful old prat that was always looking for any excuse to gripe at him. And he gave him every excuse in the book today. First he was late, then he spilled an entire container of batter on accident. He was so flustered all day that he kept making small mistakes. Giving someone incorrect change or ringing up their order wrong, forgetting his hairnet when he returned from break, and dropping more than one pastry on the floor or counter or any surface he could apparently. It was awful, and he felt horrid and useless all day. It didn’t help that his manager confirmed that feeling, telling him that he was useless and needed to pay more attention, stop making careless mistakes, pull his act together if he still wanted a job. Simon thought he’d enjoy a job at a bakery, he loved baking and he loved their regular customers and he loved most of the staff. This had been his favorite place to stop in for a scone or biscuit when he was in the area, when he saw they were hiring Baz had convinced him to apply, and he thought it was going to be a wonderful job.
And most days it was, but on this day, it was not.
Simon felt worn out, hopeless, and like a complete waste of space, which may have been some dramatic emotions for just having a bad day at work, but he was already in a capital M Mood when he started his day. It didn’t take much to push him into a headspace where all he could do was begin listing other reasons and other areas in life where he was useless. He thought of his time at Watford, when he did have magic but he didn’t know how to use it or control it, so he was a hopeless mage. And then after, when he lost his magic, and felt like he lost any chances he had at ever becoming something. Now he was just Normal, he wasn’t anything for his friends to be proud of or want to have around. He’d remember how terrible he was at dating, at being Agatha’s boyfriend, and then at being Baz’s, especially after everything that happened at Watford. He was out of it for months, an absolute waste to everyone while he tried to work through what had happened. And he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Baz or Penny were still there, but they were and that is always the only thing that keeps him from falling back completely.
When those memories and feelings crawl back into his mind he thinks of Baz, and he thinks of how Baz chose him. How he keeps choosing him, even if he can’t understand it, but if he does then he must be doing something right. Maybe he was useless at work, and maybe he won’t contribute anything society, and maybe he’ll just forever be a complete mess, and maybe he doesn’t have a place in this world - except he does, and it’s with Baz, because even while he’s literally sobbing Baz was looking at him with love and concern written all over his usually indecipherable face.
“Tell me you need me,” Simon whispered, because even though he had all of the evidence laid out in front of him, he needed to hear it. It felt pathetic and desperate, but he needed to hear it, from the source, to shut his mind up once and for all.
“What?” Confusion joined the emotions dancing across Baz’s face, because Simon had not said a thing about his terrible day out loud. All he’d done since walking in the door was fall into Baz’s arms and then start crying and Baz would kindly like to know what the fuck is going on because he wanted to fix whatever it is.
“Just -” Simon sniffed, wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Please? Tell me you need me, and that I’m not just a failure of a human, or useless, or whatever.”
“Simon.” Baz cupped Simon’s face in both of his hands, pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before continuing, “I need you more than I need air to breathe. You’re not a failure of any sort, and you’re worth more than any physical thing in this world.” Baz frowned. “And you know that worth isn’t based in how I feel about you, right?”
“Yeah, I just -” Simon scooted closer, pressing his face into Baz’s chest and melting into the embrace as Baz’s arms wrapped tightly around him. “It makes me feel better. Knowing someone actually needs me or wants me.”
“I will always want you, Simon Snow.” Baz pressed a kiss into Simon’s curls, stretched out a hand to hit pause on Bake-Off, and started running a hand soothingly over Simon’s back as he leaned into the cushions so they’d both be more comfortable. “Now, do you want to fill me in on what the hell happened today?”
Simon burrowed deeper into Baz’s embrace, recounting every shitty detail of the past ten hours, laughing softly every time Baz growled and promised to kick his manager’s arse. By the time they slipped into bed his mind was calm once more, he had managed to push it all back to the corner in which it belonged, where it had no power.
Because none of it was true. He wasn’t useless. He had a place in this world, and he made small impacts everyday, and he was needed.