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Three years.
That was apparently how long it took before Baz let himself believe that Simon Snow really loved him back. Not that he ever thought Simon was lying, but he was always ready for the other shoe to drop. For Simon to realize his mistakes, to turn back into Agatha’s arms, or maybe find someone entirely new.
But now it had been three years since the night Simon kissed him in the woods. Three years since they spent a night on the floor of Baz’s childhood bedroom, snogging until their lips were sore. Three years since all hell broke loose and the Humdrum was ‘defeated’ and the Mage died and Simon’s life fell apart. And they had spent three years trying to piece it all back together.
In those three years, Simon had started a small business that he ran out of his flat, making speciality cakes and various baked goods for birthdays, weddings, anniversaries, and other such special occasions. Baz and Penny helped, Baz with the actual business parts and transport, Penny with baking assistance and moral support.
In those three years, Baz had shifted his studies to more closely fit what he would need to help Simon run that business, and he had managed to graduate early. This was his gap year, before he started looking into Masters programs, and he was using that free time to double down his efforts with Simon. Both in the business and in their relationship. There were points during uni where he felt he was neglecting their relationship too much, but how else would he manage to graduate early? Now he had the time to make up for all of it.
In those three years, Penny had nearly finished her own degree. She wasn’t graduating early like Baz, but she wasn’t upset about it. She loved uni, she loved her classes, and she had managed to fit in enough credits to dual-major (which Simon did not see the point or desire to do).
Also in those three years, Baz found himself falling deeper in love with Simon Snow. And he could finally let himself believe - no, trust that Simon felt the same way. It should have been obvious all along, that’s what Penelope told him all the time, but could one blame him for thinking his hero of a boyfriend would change his mind about dating an actual vampire? Penny also told him that was ridiculous, so it would seem one could blame him. But three years had passed, three years of dates and nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms. Three years of snogging across both of their apartments, snuggling together and watching terrible movies, and helping each other through their best and worst times. Three years of love, and three years of them to falling completely head over heels for each other.
Three years for Baz to realize he didn’t want to, couldn’t imagine having to, spend his life with anyone else.
“I‘m going to propose.”
Penny hardly glanced up from the book she was reading, sat across from Baz at their small dining room table and sipping at a mug of tea. She sat the mug down.
“Propose…? What? Something for the business?”
“No, Bunce.” Baz leaned across the table, covering the page she’d been reading with a hand so she would look up at him. She settled him with a glare, but he pressed on. “I want to propose. To Simon. Ask him to get married. To me.”
Penny’s glare was gone, replaced by wide eyes and a look of surprise. “Wha - Oh! Oh, Nicks and Slicks, Baz! That’s - well, that’s fantastic, isn’t it? How’re you going to do it?”
Her book was forgotten, pushed to the side as she placed her elbows on the table, more than ready for this conversation. Baz sighed.
“I… I haven’t really thought about that bit yet.” He dropped his eyes to the table top, scratching at a crack in the grain with his fingernail. “I was hoping you could help.”
Penny pursed her lips. “Well, Simon’s not you. He wouldn’t need anything extravagant or dramatic, would he?”
“I don’t need things extravagant or dramatic,” Baz muttered. Penny raised a brow at him, almost in perfect mimicry of his own signature move, and he suddenly understood how Simon felt when he did it. He rolled his eyes, unwilling to concede even if he knew it was true. “At least my plans weren’t to stop time.”
“And it best stay that way, I’ll not have you and Simon stealing my proposal.” Penny took another sip of her tea, furrowing her brows as she thought. Finally, she sat her tea on the table once more, gave Baz a small smile and said, “I may have an idea.”
—
The thing about Penny’s plan was that it was so simple, yet somehow so difficult. It took a full week of nagging Simon to take a night away from the kitchen to even set it into motion. Apparently there was a big event coming up he’d been hired for, and he was stressing over making sure everything he was making would be perfect. It was the biggest event he’d done yet, it was some posh fundraiser and hundreds of people were expected to attend. Really, it shouldn’t have caught Baz off guard when Simon bowed out last minute.
“I’m sorry, Baz, I have to meet with the organizers tomorrow with samples - I‘ve not even got half of them.” Simon sounded genuinely upset and apologetic over the phone, Baz couldn’t even be disappointed. He knew how important this was for him, and even though he felt like tonight could have been an equally important night, it wasn’t like Simon knew that.
“I’ll come help,” Baz offered.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I want to.”
“Baz, you’re a nightmare in the kitchen.”
“You’re a nightmare in general. We still let you help, don’t we?”
Simon’s laugh rang tight and tinny through the phone. “Alright, fine. Come help me.”
Baz really was a nightmare in the kitchen. He had many talents, Simon would argue that he was sheer perfection, but baking seemed to be his weakness. Simon gave him the simplest tasks, mix these pre-measured ingredients, melt the chocolate, things he would have to try to fuck up.
Simon, however, was graceful in ways Baz had never seen when he was baking. In daily life, Simon was heavy-handed and clambering around everywhere he went. Here in the kitchen, Simon floated from counter to cabinet to oven, sure-footed and confident. Baz nearly burnt the chocolate, too busy ogling Simon as he measured out dry ingredients, tongue sticking out between his teeth in concentration.
“Oi! Basil, eyes on the stove, you’re gonna ruin perfectly good chocolate,” Simon barked as soon as he caught Baz’s eyes on him. Baz jumped, hadn’t even realized how long he’d been staring, and turned back to the task at hand. Once it was melted down suitably, he removed it from the heat and Simon stepped over to check it.
“Perfect, darling.” He kissed Baz’s cheek before turning back to one of the many mixtures laid out across the counter.
The whole scene was so domestic Baz felt like his heart was going to explode. He could see it, two, three, ten years from now, in their own kitchen doing just this. Simon floating around and making sure Baz doesn’t ruin things, sharing soft kisses and touches as they worked alongside each other. Together.
That’s all he wanted, wasn’t it?
This, being with Simon, for the rest of their lives. Or however long he could get, his mortality was still a big question mark, but he wanted Simon for as long as he could have him. And it was a simple want, one that he was sure Simon shared.
He hoped.
No, he knew.
Right?
There was only one way to find out, and the words left Baz’s lips before he could think twice.
“Would you marry me?”
Simon dropped the spatula he’d been using to stir some of the batter, it hit the counter with a wet clatter.
“Sorry?”
He turned to Baz with wide eyes and an unreadable expression. Baz was suddenly less sure, had he actually read it all wrong? Maybe it was ridiculous to think that Simon wanted this the same way he did.
“I - uhm,” Baz stuttered in a panic. Simon definitely heard him clearly, there was no way he could brush this off. Maybe this was the beginning of the end.
“Baz.” Simon abandoned the bowl and spatula, stepped in closer to Baz, the surprise on his face melting down into a soft smile. Baz’s own panic was quickly turning to confusion, until Simon’s mouth was on his and it was familiar and safe and warm and welcome.
Baz grabbed Simon’s shoulders, pulling back to find that dazzling smile looking back at him. “Wait, so is that…?”
Simon leaned in for another kiss in response, his hand winding around Baz’s neck and fingers threading through his hair. He pulled away just enough to speak, his lips brushing Baz’s with each word, “Of course I would, you numpty.”
That was what Baz needed.
He surged forward, not that he needed to as Simon was right there, and maybe it was a little too hard but neither of them cared. Simon parted his lips under Baz’s and Baz brought his arms around Simon’s waist, pulling him flush against him.
“Why didn’t you say that to begin with?” Baz asked between kisses, and Simon laughed into his mouth.
“Caught me off guard, didn’t you? I wasn’t expecting you to propose all the sudden.”
Baz nipped at Simon’s lower lip. “Neither was I, but you’ve been ruining my plans to do it all week, you arsehole.”
“Hey, don’t be mean to me, my boyfriend just told me he wants to marry me. This is a good night.” Simon dropped kisses along Baz’s jaw and cheek.
“Technically, he just asked if you would want to marry him.” Simon bit down where Baz’s jaw met his neck, eliciting a small noise from the other, before returning to his lips.
“I hate you.”
“I love you,” Baz whispered against his lips, unable to fight back his smile.
“I love you, too.”
They didn’t pull apart for several long minutes, until Simon suddenly jerked back from Baz’s embrace. “Fuck, wait! We still have to finish these. Shit, the chocolate’s already hardened again…”
Baz laughed and wrapped his arms around Simon’s waist from behind, kissing his neck gently. “It’ll be fine.”
“No, no more distractions.” Simon reached up and flicked at Baz’s nose, shocking him enough that he stepped back. “We finish these, and then we’ll come back ‘round to… this.” As stern as his voice was, Baz could see the smile that stretched across his face and remained there as he set back to the task at hand.
Baz had to keep his eyes down if he didn’t want to ruin something by getting distracted by Simon, but it was difficult. His mind was spinning in the best circles.
Simon wanted to marry him.
They’d had three years, and there were so many more ahead of them.