A/N: WARNING MAJOR SPOILER ALERT! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.
(now that that's been settled...)
Hello! This story takes place shortly after the canon novel ended. It's probably a Christmas time feast at the good ol' Pitch mansion. It contains a couple references here and there, huhu. I wrote this for my wonderful friend's birthday, but I hope y'all like it too. :) Thanks for reading it!
"Simon, isn't that… your seventh cinnamonroll?"
"Hush Penny, only the weak eat less than five."
Penny eyed him dubiously as Simon inhaled the fluffy bun. Cinnamon warmed the inside of his mouth like a fireplace, an actual one in front of him. The wood snapped and the sparks crackled as waves of flames flickered. Simon dragged his eyes away to face Penny. She was nibbling a snickerdoodle ("Mine are better," Simon grumbled inwardly) in a velvet armchair across from his. Outside the Pitch mansion, it was pitch-black except for the cotton-ball snow filtering down, just like powdered sugar.
"Aleister Crowley!" Snow whipped around towards the dining room. A little girl with short jet-black hair was cursing as she stared at the floor. Expensive china lay shattered in sparkling shards.
"Now now Lumiere, no need to be so upset…" An older girl, with the same black hair but streaming down her back, touched the her arm.
"Romarine… " Lumiere sniffled.
"See, it's just a quick spell-" Romarine muttered something under her breath, "-and it's done." The plate melded itself together, and Romarine picked it up.
"Awww, Romarine, you're so lucky; I can't wait to go to Watford next year!" Lumiere pouted as the two moved away to select more food from the long dining table.
Simon could hear the Romarine girl laugh and talk about how she wouldn't think so after she meets Professor Slay. A sting of bitterness burned in his chest. You don't know how lucky you have it…
He tried to drag them away, but his eyes remained glued to the dining table. The platters floating above it. The snaps of fingers and the calls of spells. The sparkle of perfect food. The light blazing from all the chandeliers, all the fairylights, all the exotic scent that magic had, more heady and dizzying than he had remembered it. The stinging became a clenching, like sandpaper shoved down his throat.
Simon leapt to his feet and practically sprinted out of the room, bursting outside of the house. A freezing gust of wind slapped his face, melting snow and freezing sweat trailing down his back. Simon caught his breath and calmed his heart. The massive door creaked open again.
"...Snow…"
Simon turned around to see Penny cup her hands. "It's snowing," she said plaintively.
He sighed and stared upward. Every breath seemed to freeze inside his chest, every foggy exhale like a bit of his soul departing.
"Penny… can… I tell you something?"
"S… Simon, you're already talking."
"..."
"Okay, just go."
"Well… sometimes I feel like… maybe I should've stayed with Agatha."
Simon heard Penny take a sharp breath.
He continued. "Y'know how people say that 'you should be yourself'?"
"Are you saying that being with… being with Agatha makes you feel more like yourself?"
Simon turned back towards Penny, and took a double-take. Her usual sharp eyes were now knife-point, and blazing.
Simon blinked. "Of course not. I just…" He stared at the ground, the gentle slopes of snow just like when he and Penny had raced towards Watford after the Mage. That was the day when I lost magic… it feels so long ago.
"'You just'...?"
"...I just feel like being 'me' isn't good enough. Someone like me… Someone who isn't magical. Someone who isn't perfect. Someone who isn't accepted by his family. How-" Simon's voice broke into splinters. He gulped but his voice was gone, and he could only whisper roughly,
"How could I share time with him with something he values more than anything, but I don't have? The something that makes him Baz?"
Suddenly, time decided to either blink or not breath. All he could feel was the solid brick wall behind him, and the solid lips in front of him. Simon's mind blanked, and at first he thought, Why the hell is Penny kissing me; She knows I'm not bisexual. But then realization shocked him; he knew these lips. This mumbling of "Snowyoublippin'idiot" in his ear, this one strand of ink black hair tickling his cheek, this closed eye in front of his own.
They parted breathlessly. Baz still had one hand firmly on his left shoulder, the other resting above Simon on the wall.
Simon tried to say something, but his mouth could barely move from its gaped position. Baz opened his eyes, and Simon felt his heart skip, trip, crash and burn as they met his.
They stared at each other, until at last Simon managed to breath, "What the actual fuck Baz."
Baz cracked a smile. "I was in disgui-"
The door swung open, and the two jumped away from each other, tense until they saw who it was. Penny stood in the doorway, arms crossed and expression equally cross. A book was held in one hand.
"Merlin, Baz, you told me that you'd get Simon's self-deprecating attitude out in less than a minute. It's been five minutes Mister Tyrannus Basilton Pitch Perfect. Outrageously unpunctual."
For a second Simon saw Professor Bunce, but shorter.
"And," she added, "I finished Cath Avery's newest novel 'Right' in the entire time."
Baz looked away sheepishly. "Well, going outside was the perfect chance that wasn't going to happen again today now was it?"
Penny opened her mouth but instead of a tirade, she let out a long, long sigh. Her breath fogged the air like that of a dragon's. "Stupid love-sick puppies," she muttered.
"W-wait, so…" Penny and Baz turned towards Simon, who was still in the midst of comprehending exactly what had happened. "So… you heard me say everything, Baz?"
"Yeah…"
Simon felt his jaw drop again, his heart plummeting into the center of the earth. This time it was Baz who looked up at the sky. He jammed his hands into his pockets. "Snow… It's… true that some Pitches don't like how I'm in a relation with you. It's different. It's not their yellow brick road for me.
But you know what?" He turned and looked at Simon right in the eye. Damn it, why are you so beautiful. "I don't care. I'm not going to live my life as an excuse or an apology. And you, Snow," He took a step closer. "Are so worth that."
Simon felt his heart melt a little on the edges. "Baz...I… I…" Words were becoming lost in a haze of bliss.
"Ssh…" Baz gave a small smile and touched Simon's cheek.
"...S...Simon."
"I love you, Baz. So much, it drives me literally insane."
Penny groaned as they kissed again (since, as Simon said to Baz later, their first kiss was like they just smushed two faces together and then Baz asked if that wasn't the definition of a kiss and Simon rolled his eyes). Baz closed his eyes again.
Holy Gandalf, how many cinnamon rolls did you eat Snow? My tongue's becoming numb.