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Baz
Simon’s breathing steadied and I opened my eyes.
He is asleep, his heart beating at an even rhythm (vampire hearing), his scent of apples blowing towards me from the wind that came through the open window. (Bloody vampire senses- and bloody Snow. Why does he always leave the window open?) His golden hair is mussed, his long fingers tangled up in it, his lips parted. (Mouth breather) He looks peaceful, but it isn’t often that he does. With the Insidious Humdrum and the Mage and the recent drama with Agatha he’s always tight. (Fists clenched, shoulders hunched, mouth pursed as he gazed across the room at the object of his affections…) I wish I knew why he and Agatha have broken up. Some part of me is hoping I am the cause. After all, Simon had seen us holding hands in the forest before he’d been sucked away by the Insidious Humdrum (Crowley, that had been a shock) and Agatha has been sneaking glances at me all through meals. Snow has always believed that Agatha was his destiny, that they would have blonde haired, blue eyed angels after he’d defeated the Insidious Humdrum. It would piss Snow off to know Agatha is pining after me (monster, vampire, arch nemesis) but I still can not imagine him breaking it off with her. So it must have been Agatha.
I felt a sharp pain in my chest. This stupid infatuation with Simon Snow (hero, warrior, golden-haired beauty) is going to end up killing me.
Snow’s eyes are open. Blue, blue, blue and staring right into mine.
“Baz?”
“Yes?”
“Have you been watching me sleep?”
“I was making sure you weren’t going to attack. I thought you might have more reason to kill me, now you’ve seen my fangs.” I bare my teeth and let my canines fill my mouth.
“Where do they go when you’re not using them?” Snow asks, shuffling towards me in his bed, fingers shaking free of his hair and reaching towards my fangs. I flinch away.
“The venom, idiot,” I say, the fangs sliding back up into my gums.
Simon shrugs. Half Snow’s conversations are shrugs. He opens his mouth, shuts it, and shrugs again.
“Sorry. It’s just-”
“What Snow?”
“Well, I mean-”
“Use your words, Snow.”
“I wanted to know what they felt like.”
“You’re an idiot. Are you going to turn me in?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“You’ve been trying to kick me out for years.”
Simon shrugs. Again.
“Not really. Not as much as you’ve been trying to kill me.”
“If I’d really wanted to kill you don’t you think I would have succeeded by now?”
Snow swings his legs out from beneath the covers and sits up, facing me.
“Is something wrong Baz?”
“Why would you care?”
“I don’t know. But I do.”
“Why did you and Agatha break up?”
“She wasn’t interested in me anymore. I don’t think she was ever interested.”
“Well she’s stupid.”
“You think so?”
If I was full I would have blushed, but as it is my skin stays white as –well, a vampire.
“Shut up, Snow. And you? Were you ever interested?”
“Yes. And no.”
I look at him. Really look at him. He looks awkward on the edge of the bed, shoulders bent forward, head hanging low with his short hair falling sideways to his eyebrows.
“What?”
“Yes, I was interested,” Simon says slowly. Then he begins to shake his head. “But not really, you know? It was sort of more like I wanted the image of her than actually her. When I think back on it I don’t know what I was thinking. I like Agatha, yes, but I never really missed her when I was away. Not ever.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t know. As I said, I liked the image of her. She was sort of like my Bond girl. That sounds really dumb, doesn’t it? And sexist, if I’m honest. But she was what was going to be there at the end. I was going to be the hero and then I was going to get the girl.”
“Snow, that is really dumb.”
“I know. I’m not even sure I like girls. Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. It’s like I can’t decide.”
“Are you gay Snow?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. But then I still thought Agatha was attractive. And I liked kissing her. Am I allowed to like both? Is that a thing?”
“It’s called being bisexual, Simon.”
“Oh. Well, that sounds right. I don’t know; I might change my mind. Are you gay Baz?”
“Yes, Snow.”
“You called me Simon before.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Do you care if I’m bisexual? I mean, would that matter to you?”
“Why would it matter to me, Snow?”
“You called me Simon before.”
“No I didn’t. And no Snow, it wouldn’t matter to me.”
“You-”
“Simon. I wouldn’t mind what you are. If you had wings and a tail I wouldn’t mind.”
Simon looks up at me, eyes so blue they shock me. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at me. Really looks at me. I look back.
“Do you like me Baz? I mean, really like me. I know you don’t like me- you hate me. It would be sort of disconcerting if you didn’t. But if you really like me- well, that’s different.”
I sit up slowly, pushing the covers down to my ankles. I put my feet over the edge of the bed.
“Baz, do-”
“God yes,” I breathe, gazing at him through my shoulder-length hair. “Aleister Crowley Almighty, yes Snow. I hate you. But I also really, really like you.”
Simon slides forward on his bed until our knees touch in the middle.
“You called me Simon before.”
“Simon. I really, really like you.”
Simon leans forward, his nose rubbing against my cheek.
“Baz. I really, really like you.”
Snow’s lips taste like scones and butter. They are soft and open and pliable. He does this thing with his chin, pressing it into me in time with his lips. His hair is thick and smooth and his skin is golden. I can’t get enough of him. I have waited years for this, and here he finally is, and I am pulling him into my arms and he is tugging at my hair and it’s all Simon, Simon, Simon. I will always hate him; I can’t help it. It’s written into my DNA. But this- Crowley, I could never (would never) give this up.
Simon
I don’t remember falling asleep. But I do remember waking up. I remember the sun shining through the windows- so bright you could tell it was nearly lunch. I remember Baz’s silky hair against my cheek and the smooth skin of his forehead against my lips.
And now I’m kissing that smooth skin, gently, softly, telling him that I’m still here, that I haven’t gone away.
Baz stirs in my arms, lifting his head to catch a kiss. He’s sleepy, slow, and I like him like this. I like him here, under my thumb, where I know he’s not hurting anyone and no one’s hurting him.
We’re kissing again, and it’s so good. I don’t know why I didn’t do this before. I guess I’d never really thought about it, but if that’s so, then why is there a list of things I’ve always wanted to do to him running through my head? Kiss beneath his sharp jaw, the tip of his widow’s peak, drive my hands across the hard planes of his chest and up through his shoulder-length hair. So I do all of that, and Baz doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to be enjoying it. He’s now taking a tour of my moles, kissing each, one by one, but he pauses when he reaches the neckline of my shirt, fingers tugging at the hem, brushing lightly across the skin beneath. It’s making me shiver. I help him take it off, but then Baz is still, watching me. I prop my head up on one arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Baz says, staring at my chest. He raises his hand from where it’s fallen on the mattress and then he’s tracing a pattern on my skin. “Nothing’s wrong.”
And now his mouth is against my skin and it feels so good I don’t ever want it to stop.
There’s a knock at the door.
Baz and I are still, eyes wide as we stare at each other.
“Wait a minute!” Baz calls, voice husky from all the kissing, and I scrabble about on the floor in search of my shirt. Baz gives me a shove to get me out of bed and then starts smoothing down the sheets so no one will be able to see the two-person dip in the middle of the mattress.
“Come in!” I say, my voice a bit strangled. I look at Baz and wonder how anyone will be fooled- his lips are swollen (mine are probably worse, Baz being a vampire and all), his hair is sticking up all over the place (it’s always so damn neat- he doesn’t even get bed hair) and there are little bite marks along the bottom of his jaw. Baz is staring at me, looking just as stricken as I am (though he doesn’t have the column of red rising up his neck), so I guess I look just as suspicious. And then Penelope walks in and we both jump.
“I’ve thought of a few other places we could look for Nicodemus,” Penelope starts, drawing neat columns in the air with her wand. She hasn’t even looked at us, and I shuffle closer to Baz, towards the bathroom.
“Baz and I might get cleaned up a bit first Penny,” I say, heading for the bathroom door. “We won’t be a moment. We only just got out of bed.”
“I’ll just add a few things to the list,” Penelope says.
Baz joins me in the bathroom a few seconds later, carrying two bundles of clothing. He shoves one at me.
“You’ve got your shirt inside out,” he says. “Turn around and get changed.”
“You don’t want to watch?” I ask, and I’m immediately embarrassed. Baz smirks.
“Do you want Bunce to know?”
“Eventually,” I say. “Not now, but… Sometime. Are we boyfriends now? Is that what this is?”
“You tell me Snow. You started this whole thing,” Baz says.
“Alright then. We’re boyfriends.”
“As your boyfriend, do I have special privileges? Like kicking Bunce out of the room?”
I snort.
“That is not one of your special privileges. But you can kiss me whenever you want.”
“Whenever I want? You better watch out Snow. You’ve got one coming.”
When Baz and I leave the bathroom Penelope has finished her columns and is sitting on Baz’s bed. He scowls at her but says nothing. There’s still a smile hanging about his lips from our most recent kissing session.
“What took you so long? Anyone would you think you two were having it on in there.”
I blush and turn to put my clothes away.
“Faulty tap,” I mumble. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Baz trying not to laugh.
“Ri-ight,” Penelope says, drawing out the middle. She doesn’t believe me, but she’s not going to push it. “I think I know how we can find Nicodemus.”
Baz
I can’t stop staring at Snow. It’s becoming a problem.
I meet Snow outside his last class before lunch and we head down to the great hall together. We don’t say anything, but I know what he’s thinking. I just wonder whether he has the courage to say it.
“Baz.”
“Snow.”
“You called me Simon before.”
“Simon.”
“Baz. I was wondering- well, not really wondering- I more sort of wanted to know-”
“Use your words Snow.”
Simon gives me a sort of glare without really looking at me. He doesn’t like to look at me when he’s nervous. I think he’s still unsure of me, even after all the snogging.
“Are you going to sit with me?”
I pretend to think and Snow starts fidgeting, playing with the zipper on his pencil case. I take his hand in mine and pull it down between us, keeping it still. He does look at me then.
“Do you want me to?” I ask, not quite ready to let go of the teasing.
“Yes,” he says, voice all soft and quiet. If he keeps acting like this I may swoon. (It’s not beneath me.)
I nod as if that’s settled it and we walk into the great hall, holding hands.
There’s a strange sort of quiet and everyone’s looking at us. (I mean everyone. The teachers, the students- Penelope’s the only one who isn’t staring, and that’s because she hasn’t noticed us yet. Agatha’s eyes are nearly popping out of her head. Hard luck- her ex and her new love are now boyfriends. Turned out well for her.) Simon tries to pull his hand away, but I’m not letting him go. We head over to Penelope’s table and even though there are less people here Simon seems to get more nervous.
“Hey Bunce,” I say, taking a seat. Simon looks relieved that he no longer has to hold my hand.
“Hey Simon, Baz,” Penelope says, just glancing up from her textbook. (Always got her nose buried in a book that girl.)
“Penny, have you made any progress with-” Simon gulps then. Probably because I’ve just started sucking on his earlobe. He grabs my thigh under the table, higher up than he expects, I think, but then he squeezes hard. I ignore him, continuing on my torture of his ear. “Nicodemus?” he finishes.
“No, I-” Penelope looks up then, and by that time I’ve moved on to his neck, and she’s just staring. She keeps staring as I kiss and suck, but never bite. I don’t want Simon to accidently get a fang in his throat. Simon’s skin is turning warmer as he blushes, and it just makes it so much better. I nose his chin towards me and kiss him properly. Simon stutters through the whole thing, but I don’t mind. Every one of Snow’s kisses are gold.
“That’s new,” Penelope says, a smile in her voice.
I smirk and Snow squeezes my hand under the table.
“Snow wasn’t sure how to tell you. I thought I might as well show you.”
Snow gives a weak smile. They’re both quiet all through lunch, and I let Penelope take him away. Her face is serious and I’m sure she’s going to give him a right talking to. I make sure to kiss Snow extra hard. Just because we’re snogging now doesn’t mean I can’t torture him.