Work Text:
BAZ
“You’re still up?”
I don’t realize how bleary my eyes are until I look up at the blurred outline of Penelope standing in the entry, hair mussed and pyjamas crumpled, she’s not even bothered putting her glasses on.
“Why are you up?” I ask in place of an answer. She doesn’t need an answer, it’s fairly obvious. Of course I’m still up, these papers won’t revise themselves.
“Water, but I’m going to bed - so should you, it’s late.”
I wave her off. “I’m almost finished.”
“You told Simon you’d be in right after him, that was at least two hours ago.”
“It’s not as if he’s waiting on me to sleep. I’m almost finished.”
“Basilton.” Bunce’s voice is sharp, her eyes narrow, and I don’t think it’s fair how well she can glare someone into submission. It’s an honest talent.
“Fine.” I groan and shut my laptop, sliding it to the side and lifting myself from the sofa. My joints crack in protest, it really has been a while since I moved, and Bunce watches me until I slip into Simon’s room.
It’s dark, quiet save for the sound of Simon’s soft snuffling. I was right, he’s already heavily sleeping, he wouldn’t know any different if I went back out there to finish my work. But now that I’m in the room, the bed is far too tempting. I slip out of my jeans, down to my pants, all of the sudden too tired to even bother finding some pyjamas in Simon’s messy excuse of a closet.
Simon’s on his side, facing me, and his little furry shadow is curled down by his feet. He convinced Bunce to adopt a cat at some point, I’m not sure when or how it happened, but one day I came over to find him cooing over this small calico monster. He’s precious, some of the time, and the rest he’s pure chaos. He’s ruined more than one of my shirts with his insistent pawing and clawing, and I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive him for the hair ball incident.
But Simon loves him, and he clings to Simon always. His therapist says it’s actually good for him, having an animal companion like a bloody Disney princess. Cats are often adopted as emotional support pets, and that may not have been Harvey’s initial purpose, but maybe that’s what he’s become. (Yes, he named the bloody thing Harvey, apparently after some fictional rabbit?)
I climb into bed next to him, trying not to disturb him or Harvey. Neither of them stir as I settle in, and I can’t help but scoot closer until I can drape my arms across Simon’s middle and press my face into his shoulder. He’s so warm, and I often forget how cold I am until I’m next to him. A shiver runs through me as he hums, shifting and turning into me.
“S’about time,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” I start to move away, but Simon’s hand grabs my arm and he scoots even closer, until we’re chest to chest and his nose brushes mine.
“Glad you did.” His lips brush over mine, so gently I’m almost convinced it’s an accident until he kisses me again, more firmly this time. “Missed you. Did you finish revising?”
“As much as I could tonight.”
“Good.” He kisses me again. “You need sleep.”
I think he’s drifted off again, his breath starts to even out, but our cuddling must have caught Harvey’s attention. I hear the tinkle of the bell on his collar, an insufferably horrible green thing that Simon picked out, and then feel the pressure of his tiny paws as he moves up the bed. He’s easily jealous, it seems, because any time Simon and I are close he feels the need to join in. Harvey’s paws dig into my side as he makes the decision to climb up my body, I wince when he steps directly on my rib cage.
“He gets really jealous when you’re here,” Simon says, lifting his head just a bit to look at the cat now perched on my side. “Don’t you, sweet boy?”
“Is that why he tries to kill me?”
Simon laughs. “He would never, he loves you. He’s just an attention hog. You two have that in common.”
“Excuse me?” I scoff, mock offended. I can see Simon roll his eyes in the dark, and then one of his arms moves from around me, reaching out instead to scratch at Harvey’s forehead. I force myself not to glare at the cat.
“Don’t be jealous that I’m petting my cat, dear.”
“I’m not,” I huff, and then Simon’s running his hand through my hair and smiling at me.
“Of course you’re not.” Simon hums, moving his hand back to Harvey, but nuzzling his face into my neck. “I love both of my dumb, needy boys.”
He does fall back asleep then, I know when his hand slips from Harvey’s back and onto my waist. Harvey still nudges at it, rubbing his face against it before finally shifting and settling down in the small space between mine and Simon’s legs.
I press my cheek against Simon’s head, letting my eyes slip closed, letting myself give into the warmth of his body against mine and even the comforting weight of Harvey on the blanket between us.