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Baz is studying at his desk when Simon comes into the room in a quiet, frenzied strop, throwing his bag to the floor and shutting himself in the bathroom all within a few seconds.
Baz hears frustrated huffing and puffing and sighing coming from the bathroom, and tries not to be concerned. Something is knocked to the ground and then the noise stops except for Simon’s ragged breathing, which Baz is sure he could hear even without his enhanced vampire senses.
“Baz?” Simon calls shakily.
Baz ignores him, staring uncomprehendingly at his notes from the effort to do so.
“Baz, please?”
Baz frowns at the desperation in Simon’s voice, and he tries to keep his tone neutral instead of curious and hopelessly affectionate as he says, “What, Snow?”
“Can you—Can you come help me?”
Baz raises his eyebrows at the closed door.
“Please?” Simon’s voice is choked and shaky, and it shoves Baz to his feet without the need for another second of hesitation or thought.
He stands up, crosses over to the bathroom door and knocks awkwardly. Simon opens the door, looking panicked and terrified and… like a right mess. He’s wearing fresh black jogging bottoms and is shirtless except for a beige chest binder. Baz tries not to react, hoping the years of practice hiding his emotions have prepared him well enough to mask his surprise.
Simon’s looking at him expectantly, nervously, and with a gut-wrenching mix of fear and mortification.
Baz tries to soften his cold, blasé expression just slightly. “What can I do for you, Simon?”
Simon swallows and averts his gaze. “I can’t—I can’t get it off.”
Baz nods slowly and carefully clarifies, “Your binder?”
Simon gives one sharp nod.
“I don’t mind helping you, but are you sure you don’t want me to go get someone you trust? Penelope or Agatha?”
Simon shakes his head so hard it almost makes Baz dizzy just watching him. “I need it off now. I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“All right,” Baz says softly. Then more firmly and practically, “All right. What do you need me to do?”
“I don’t know,” Simon says with an angry huff. “Just—Please.”
“Okay. You want me to help you take it off?”
Simon nods and shrugs at the same time. “Just—Try not to look? Or touch my—Or—Fuck, I just—” Simon backs away from Baz and takes some shallow, shuddering breaths.
“Simon, breathe, all right? Slow, deep breaths.”
“I know,” Simon snaps.
Baz just nods and waits until Simon takes a step back toward him, and then meets him halfway. “I’m going to close my eyes, and I’ll stay behind you and only touch your back. Is that all right?”
Simon nods clumsily as he spins around and puts his back to Baz.
“I’ll need you to work on the front and we’ll do it together. When you’re ready.” He presses a light hand flat against Simon’s back, over the bottom edge of the binder, and then closes his eyes.
Simon stays silent, but after a moment Baz senses movement, like he’s checking over his shoulder, and then the binder lifts a little under Baz’s hand. He gets to work gently folding the fabric back over itself and pulling it up Simon’s back until it’s hanging loose around his neck. Simon seems to have let go, so Baz brings it carefully over his head, making sure it doesn’t get caught on his ears or in his hair.
Baz can hear Simon’s breathing return to shallow, quick breaths, so he gently places his hand back between Simon’s shoulder blades as he holds the binder out for him to take. “Deep breaths,” he reminds him. “I’ll be right back, okay? I’m just going to get you some clothes. Is that all right?”
Simon doesn’t seem to be in a state to answer, so Baz does it anyway, turning away from Simon and heading back out to the room. He grabs one of his own hugely oversized hoodies that he’d never let himself be caught wearing, especially not by Simon, and a soft black tee. He closes his eyes before he re-enters the bathroom and stops just inside so he doesn’t walk into Simon or trip and fall on his face. He holds out the clothes and lets out a relieved breath when they’re tugged out of his hands.
“You can open your eyes,” Simon says shakily.
Baz does, and he looks carefully into Simon’s splotchy wet face. He looks miserable. Baz reaches out, and then remembers… so many things… and lets his hand hover awkwardly in the air between them before dropping it back to his side.
“Can we—?” Simon gestures toward the door and Baz nods, following him back out into the room, and then they stand between their beds together.
“Simon—”
“Can I—” Simon waves his hands out between them and then half turns away as if giving up on the idea.
Baz isn’t sure what he’s asking, but he nods anyway. And then Simon clumsily lifts his hands up to rest flat against Baz’s chest and he understands. Baz slows and deepens his own breath and watches as Simon tries to match it. Baz brings his hands up to gently hold Simon’s forearms, pressing his hands more firmly into his chest.
“You’re all right,” Baz murmurs, “Take it slow; I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”
Simon drifts forward to lean his head against his hands, and Baz slides his arms out from between them to rest gently on Simon’s back, leaving it to him to decide whether he wants to come closer. Eventually, he seems to slump from exhaustion and falls into Baz, leaving his hands where they are on his chest to leave a barrier between them. Baz holds his weight and rubs his back gently.
Eventually, Simon pulls back and drops heavily onto his bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. Baz stands awkwardly in front of him until Simon reaches up, grabs his hand and hauls Baz over to sit down beside him. He doesn’t let go of Baz’s hand but doesn’t look at him either.
“Can I do anything for you?”
Simon shakes his head, looking down at their joined hands. “Why’re you helping me?”
“Because you asked me to,” Baz says, “and because even I’m not going to kick a man when he’s down.” When Simon gives him a look, Baz sighs and amends, “Anymore. I like to think I’m not a complete arse anymore.”
“You’re not,” Simon agrees. “Still, though.”
“I… I’m sorry, Simon. I’m trying to be better.”
“I can tell,” Simon says, nodding, “You’re getting there.”
Baz raises an eyebrow. “I am?”
Simon grins lopsidedly. “Why’re you calling me Simon?”
“Oh. Uh…” Baz blinks as he registers the conversation switching tracks. “I assume you chose your name? Thought it might help… ground you? I guess? Or just… help you feel better about… things.” Baz frowns. “I can… stop… if you don’t want me to—”
Simon’s mouth quirks up in an amused little smirk. His eyes are tired, though, so it doesn’t have quite the same effect. Still, Baz feels himself going pink in the face.
“See?” Simon says smugly.
“Shut up, Snow.”
“Aw, come on, don’t be embarrassed about showing your human side for once,” Simon teases, “Not that the cool, icy vampire side isn’t cute too, of course.”
Baz stops breathing and stares blankly at Simon. “What?”
Simon grins. “Which part is confusing you?”
Baz’s mouth twitches up involuntarily and then he lets out a snort which turns quickly into breathy laughter, and he slaps his free hand over his mouth as he leans his face against Simon’s shoulder in a fit of giggles.
Simon pries his hand away from his face and looks down at him with a soft smile. “You look good laughing,” he says, “I wish you let me see you happy more often.”
Baz’s laughter dissipates and he quietly says, “I wish I was happy more often.”
Simon lets go of Baz’s hand and leaves it on his own thigh before bringing his arm around Baz’s back to reach up and stroke his hair. “I know how that feels,” he says softly, “Maybe we can both work on it together, huh?”
“Together sounds nice,” Baz says. Then he frowns and smiles at the same time and asks, “You really think I’m cute?”
Simon huffs out an exasperated, amused breath. “Yeah,” he says softly. “That all right with you?”
Baz looks up so quickly he has to wait a moment for his vision to focus again. “Is that all right with me?” he repeats, “Simon, I…” He swallows and looks down at where his hand rests on Simon’s thigh where he left it. “You are… I have been in love with you since we were fifteen.”
“In love? With me?”
“No, with the Mage,” Baz says, rolling his eyes, “Yes, you, you idiot. Who else?”
Simon’s tone turns guarded as he says, “And are you still…? Now that you know I’m…”
“Yes,” Baz says firmly, and then, because he can’t help himself, he grins and adds, “Unfortunately.”
Simon shoves him. “I think it’s pretty fortunate, actually. Considering I sort of have this embarrassing crush on you.”
“Oh,” Baz says faintly. “And you know that I’m a—”
“—n adorable, harmless vampire? Yes. Doesn’t bother me.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
“But…”
“Baz, I will fucking tackle you to the ground and shave your head if you don’t shut your stupid mouth.”
“Anathema,” Baz says weakly.
“Nah, I think the Anathema will agree that you deserve it.”
“But will I still be cute without my hair?”
Simon cocks his head and roams his eyes over Baz. “Maybe,” he says slowly.
“Fucking excuse you?” Baz says.
Simon shrugs one shoulder while he grins. “I guess we’ll just have to do it and find out.”
Baz jumps off the bed with a yelp, dodging Simon’s attempt to catch him and subsequently tripping over the mess at the end of Simon’s bed. Simon jumps to his feet immediately but Baz’s football reflexes save him first, and he manages a few expert moves, stepping over piles of Simon’s clothes and books until he lands steadily on his feet across the room.
“Sorry?” Simon says sheepishly. “But that was fucking cool.”
Baz narrows his eyes. And then tackles Simon to the ground. He cradles the back of Simon’s head before it hits the ground, and hovers over him with the other hand braced by his head.
“Simon Snow,” he says, “You are a fucking mess.”
Simon brings a hand up between them to rest gently against Baz’s cheek and then leans up to kiss the tip of his nose. “Guess I’m lucky you love me anyway, huh?”
“Or maybe I’m just a masochist.”
Simon tilts his head sideways, dragging his curls across the floor. “Nah. Not anymore. You like it when I’m gentle with you.”
Baz closes his eyes against the hot tears he feels forming, but they slip out when Simon’s other hand appears at the back of his neck, thumb stroking over the hinge of his jaw. Baz just manages to shift to the side to avoid crushing Simon when he all but collapses, and then he rolls away and hides his face in his hands. Simon sits up and hovers over Baz, gently pulling on his shoulder until he rolls onto his back. He hauls him up by the shoulders so his head is in Simon’s lap, and then Simon gently pushes his fingers through Baz’s wavy hair until he stops hiding in his hands.
Baz looks up at him with wet eyes, reaching up and touching light fingertips to Simon’s jaw. “I didn’t think I’d ever get to have anything like this.”
“You have me,” Simon says, “You’ve got me, sweetheart, and I’ll spend forever proving to you that you deserve to be happy.”
Baz sits up and shuffles closer to Simon. He reaches out but pauses mid-movement and lets his hand fall back into his lap, and Simon sighs and gets to his feet. Before Baz has a chance to sink into his disappointment, Simon sticks a hand out and pulls Baz to his feet too. He lifts Baz’s chin with a gentle hand, forcing Baz to raise his eyes from the floor to Simon’s lovely face.
“How about a cuddle?” Simon asks.
Baz goes pink and nods, and lets Simon take his hand and guide him over to his bed. They climb in and lie face-to-face, close but not touching except to cling to one another’s hand. Baz spells the light dim.
“Is there anywhere you don’t want me to touch you?” Baz asks.
Simon shifts closer and slides an arm under Baz’s head. “Hands off my chest and below the belt, but otherwise whatever. I just wanna be close to you. You?”
“My neck,” he says quietly, “Feels…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself. It’s all right.”
Baz nods and tucks himself into Simon’s embrace, curling an arm over his waist and sliding a calf between Simon’s. Simon runs his hand gently over Baz’s back for a little while before letting it settle in his hair.
“Can I kiss you?” Baz whispers against Simon’s jumper, “Nothing… sexy… or anything, like snogging—I don’t think I’m ready for that yet, but—”
“Yes,” Simon says, “please.”
Baz tilts his head up to look at Simon, meeting his sweet, sure gaze, and then shifts up the bed so they’re eye-to-eye. He ducks down and presses a quick kiss to Simon’s jaw and pulls back to look at him again. Simon’s smiling this lovely, tender smile, eyes soft and happy, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones.
“Can I kiss you back?”
Baz nods and then Simon’s leaning in to kiss Baz’s left cheek, his right eyebrow and then the corner of his mouth. He barely pulls away and they’re still sharing breath when Baz turns his head to meet Simon’s lips with his own. They exchange soft, chaste kisses and then just hold onto each other like they can’t get close enough.
“You don’t mind waiting for more than this?”
Simon shakes his head and kisses the little crease between Baz’s brows. “Not at all. I don’t ever need any more than what you’re offering. Besides, this is plenty sexy.”
“You’re plenty sexy,” Baz says.
Simon snorts. “I can’t tell if that’s actually a compliment.”
“It was more a… reflex than anything else. But yes, you’re incredibly sexy and I find it incredibly unfair.”
Simon leans in to whisper in his ear, “You’re very pretty too.” He pulls back to watch Baz’s reaction play out and then says, “You know… You’re cute when you blush. Makes me wanna lick your face.”
“You…” Baz says dumbly, “want to…”
“Sorry, too soon to say that kinda thing?”
Baz shakes his head as he stares almost blankly at Simon. “You… can. If you want.”
Simon grins. “Are you trying to tell me that you… want me to lick you?”
Baz shrugs and ducks back down to hide his face against Simon’s neck, and he feels Simon’s laughter against his cheek. “Shut up, Snow.”
“Hey,” Simon says, gently lifting Baz back up to face him, “C’mere, would you?”
“No,” Baz grumbles. But he lets Simon lift his head and stare at his pink cheeks. He resolutely meets Simon’s eyes. “Go on, then. Are you gonna do it or not?”
“You’re daring me to do something that was my own idea?”
Baz shrugs and tilts his head as if presenting his cheek to Simon. Just as Simon leans in, Baz turns and licks a long stripe up Simon’s face, from his jaw up to his temple, where he presses a kiss to one of his favourite freckles. Simon laughs this joyful, breathy laugh and presses his grinning mouth to Baz’s shy smile in an awkward kiss. Their smiles slowly fade and then they’re just kissing until the sleepiest kisses turn into falling asleep in each other’s arms.