Work Text:
BAZ
I think I’m overtired. That would explain why, instead of drifting off to sleep, I keep imagining myself trapped in that stupid numpty coffin again.
Usually, if this happens, I would roll over and press my cheek against Simon’s shoulder...Crowely, I’m living a charmed life. Before - when we were strictly roommates and strictly enemies - all I had to go off of was the memory of his features. The look of his face as he slept across our tiny dorm room at Watford.
Now I’ve got the real thing, except he’s not here with me. I told Snow I’d be spending the night at my flat. I studied late tonight anyway and have an early lecture in the morning.
But now, as I lie in bed alone, with fucking numpties on the brain, I’m really starting to regret that choice. I miss Simon. It feels better just knowing he’s here with me. Of course, his flat is only a few blocks away. Still…
I flick on a light and roll over in bed. I’m cold without him here. He’s like a living, breathing space heater.
My flat feels too quiet, and my thoughts are too loud. My mind keeps throwing me back into that coffin, walls surrounding me on all sides…
I sit up, focusing on keeping my breathing even. I try to block the memories from my mind, but they’re excruciating...and difficult to shake once they’ve started.
I scramble for something to tether my thoughts to, to keep me from spiraling so that I don’t have a full blown anxiety attack. I try to think of what would always pull me back during that time.
Blue eyes and bronze curls.
But I want more. Now that I know what it’s really like to hold Simon Snow, I’m greedy for him.
I groan in frustration. Crowley, what’s wrong with me?
I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest. I curl myself around it, squeezing it tightly. I pretend it’s Simon. And I pretend he’s hugging me back.
It’s a bit pathetic, really, but it works. I pretend I’m pressed against Simon’s chest, warm and solid. I imagine his heart beating, strong and alive. I think of Simon’s smile, the moles on his skin, how he’s so content whenever there’s a baked good in sight. He’s the epitome of finding joy in little things. He’s bright when my world seems dark.
I rub my cheek against the top of the pillow and sigh. I wish it at least smelled like him. But we rarely come to this flat - hell, I rarely come to this flat. My father would probably be pissed if he knew that, considering he pays for it. But my world revolves around Simon. I go where he goes.
I take another pillow and tuck it between my knees.
I’m beginning to calm down, maybe enough to drift off to sleep, when my phone vibrates on my nightstand.
I glance at my clock. 12:08 AM. Who would text me…?
I flip my phone over and glance at the screen. My heart flutters at the sight of a text from Simon.
Hey are u awake?
Yes
I can’t even be bothered to write something teasing or snarky. I’m too worn out and too desperate for his attention.
My phone buzzes again, and the screen fills with Simon’s contact photo. I answer before the first ring ends.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” His voice is low and soft. I close my eyes and sink against my pillows. “How come you’re still up?”
“I ought to ask you the same question, Snow.”
“Ever seen Law and Order SVU? They’ve got hundreds of episodes. And this channel plays them all night long.”
I smile and shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, well. I’m not the one with the lecture in eight hours.” He pauses. “You should get some sleep.”
“You called to tell me that?” I say somewhat dryly, but of course I don’t mean it. I’m so happy he called. I’ll stay up all night talking to him - I don’t even care if I sleep through this lecture.
“Well, you answered, didn’t you?” Simon grumbles, but there’s no bite to his tone. “Or have you decided to fully function on vampire hours now?”
I roll my eyes as he chuckles, but I’m smiling despite myself. “You know me, Snow. Night owl.”
“Right.” There’s a beat of silence. I can hear the TV muffled in the background, and the soft sound of Snow breathing.
Then he says, “Well...g’night, I suppose-”
“No,” I reply a little too quickly. Crowley, I’m a mess tonight. “Don’t - I want to keep talking to you.”
Simon’s voice drops to a soft whisper. “Sure, Baz...everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Fine,” I mumble, squeezing the pillow a little tighter. “I just...miss you.”
“I miss you too.” He has a lilt in his voice, like he’s smiling as he says it. “I, uh...I know you said you weren’t coming over, but...maybe -”
“Yes,” I blurt again. As if I could get any more desperate. “Come over. Or I’ll come there - ”
I can hear rustling in the background of the phone, like he’s already on the move. “Stay put. I’ll be over in a few.”
I can’t stop the ridiculous smile that spreads across my face as I toss my pillows aside and sit up. “Okay,” I say, but I don’t hang up the phone. Neither does Simon. I can hear him as he leaves his flat, slamming doors behind him as he goes. “A little louder, Snow, I don’t think they heard you in Buckingham Palace.” He just laughs.
I hang up when he knocks on the door, and I try to maintain any ounce of composure I have left as I undo the lock and fling the door open.
“All right, Baz?” he murmurs, flashing me a crooked grin as I pull him inside. His hair is ruffled, and he’s wearing pajamas under his coat.
I push it off his shoulders. “All right, Snow. You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
“More like off the couch. Besides, you like it.”
I scoff, then grab his wrist, turn on my heel and tug him to my bedroom.
We lie down together, me spreading my fingers across his back, him twining his in my hair. He kisses me slowly, lazily, like sleep is already calling his name. It’s calling mine - my eyelids feel heavy. But Simon’s lips are far more tempting than the pull of sleep. His fingers brush my stomach beneath my shirt.
“Missed you,” he mumbles between kisses.
I sigh softly against his lips. “Missed you too,” I whisper back.
He rests his cheek on my pillow and blinks slowly. “It felt weird without you around…”
I hide my face by pressing my nose under his jaw. I take a deep breath to steady my pounding heart. And also to take in Simon’s scent, which will now thankfully smother these pillows.
The pillows were a nice placeholder, but they don’t compare to cuddling the warm, solid, real Simon. I’m already half asleep by the time he reaches up to turn out the light.