"You are the worst chosen one to exist ever, Snow." Baz stated as his roommate attempted to get the lift starting again, the key word of course being attempted.
"You tell me that every fucking day," Simon snapped, throwing his wand on the ground with frustration and running his hand through his coppery locks. Rolling his eyes at Simon, Baz grabbed his own wand: "Open Sesame". The elevator doors opened abruptly causing a smug grin to form on Baz's face, before he realised that the doors had opened to the lift shaft, rather than the bottom floor of the building.
"Nice try," Simon murmured sarcastically, never able to come up with a witty response the way Baz could. "We're going to be stuck here till class ends now and there are people around to rescue us."
"It's not my fault you're the most powerful magician here yet you can't get us out of a lift."
"It's not my fault you changed the alarm and made us late! Which is ridiculous considering the fact you barely sleep. And anyway, the Mage is the most powerful magician here."
Baz did not believe that to be true. Baz also knew that he could get the elevator back to the top of the shaft with a simple "Reach for the stars" yet he felt reluctant to complete the spell. Both of these facts were a result of Baz being hopelessly in love with Simon. Looking over to his roommate, Baz saw the fire, the magnet that was constantly drawing him to Simon. Simon swallowed, his Adam's apple bouncing on his neck, Baz found this sexy, Baz found everything Simon did to be sexy. 'I'm disturbed,' he thought to himself as he pictured his lips on Simon's neck. Simon Snow swallowing was basically his opium.
'He's doing it again,' Simon thought to himself as Baz gave him the look. The look that Simon knew meant trouble, that Baz was plotting something, something against him. If Penelope we're here she'd tell him to ignore it, and that he was wasting his life when all he did every second of the day was think about Baz, about whatever plot his arch-rival was conspiring to get at him.
"What's wrong Snow?" Baz grinned, "Hungry for some more scones?"
"Fuck off," Simon retorted, knowing once again he had let Baz win by not thinking of a good enough comeback.
Baz knew that Simon hated him, he just had hope that life wouldn't always be this way.
Baz's mention of food getting into Simon's head, he felt suddenly and uncontrollably ravenous. Trying his hardest to turn on his flow of magic, twisting the imaginary tap in his soul, he used his wand to conjure up a pile of salty, buttery Watford scones.
Simon waited till there was one scone left, before offering any to Baz, despite knowing what his answer would be.
"I can magic up some black pudding if you would like?" Simon said, laughing at his own joke.
"Does Wellbelove like black pudding?" Baz quickly responded, making sure there was no uncertainty in his response – the day Simon Snow found evidence that he was a vampire was the day his wand would be broken and he'd never see his roommate again.
"Don't talk about Agatha." Simon said, picturing Baz and his girlfriend, his ex-girlfriend, together in the Wavering Wood.
"Why? Did you have a lover's tiff?" Baz teased Simon. He was always making fun of their relationship, getting between them and now Simon had had enough.
"I get it, Baz. You wanted me and Agatha to break up to torture me. You've won, she chose you and you didn't even want her. You prick."
"That's not what happened," Baz laughed, but it only made Simon angrier, heat began to radiate from his body and Baz had seen this happen so many times that he knew the consequences of it. "Calm down please you idiot, as much as I love watching you go off I know it wouldn't be very positive if it happened in here."
Every time Simon was about to go off, Baz longed to hold him, to whisper in his ear that it'd all be okay, to calm him down and stop the magic from exploding. He also longed to slip Simon the tongue, he really, really wanted to slip him the tongue.
Simon hated it but Baz was right, he turned the other way, trying to focus on anything but the current situation. He thought of scones; no matter what shit was happening in his life, whether or not Agatha was in love with a total fuck and said fuck was plotting his murder, food would cheer him up. After maybe half an hour of silence, he remembered the last scone sitting on the plate from before and turned around to get it, only it was gone.
Simon gasped.
Baz dropped what was left of the scone quickly and closed his mouth. Despite the fact that Snow was an utter imbecile, Baz knew he wouldn't have seen through his huge fangs.
It was the only time Simon had seen Baz eat. The only time he'd actually seen real proof that Baz was a vampire. Of course, he knew Baz was a vampire, but he assumed he would never find any evidence of this.
Baz wished that Simon had went off, so then he wouldn't have eaten the scone and Simon wouldn't have seen his fangs. Simon wouldn't be staring at him the way he was – if Baz wasn't so devastated he probably would have been blushing.
"Aleister Crowley." Simon said, his mouth hanging wide open. Baz knew what he was thinking: child of the night, monster, killer, vampire.
Simon was stunned. He finally had proof that his roommate was a monster, yet as he looked into Baz's eyes, that wasn't what he saw at all, he only saw a boy, a vulnerable boy.
Baz thought about kissing Simon. It was after all his last chance, after classes ended someone would save them then Simon would flee and tell the Mage all about the undead magician he shared a room with. Then the Pitch family name would no longer belong at Watford and he would probably never see Simon again. He just wanted to lean over and kiss him, but before he could even move Simon had started to kiss him.
Simon didn't know why he was kissing Baz. He only knew that it felt right and that it was something he'd wanted for a long time, a thought he must have totally repressed to the back of his mind.
Baz grabbed Simon's hair, the coppery curls he'd always wanted to touch, to pull. Simon kept blinking, his blue eyes looked fucking perfect. Simon bobbed his head and kissed Baz harder. With passion. With hate. With longing. Despite being something he'd dreamed of since he was eleven, kissing Simon Snow was way better than Baz had ever imagined. He wasted no time feeling corny or judging himself for being soppy, he just let the heat overcome him as he knelt over Simon on all fours, leaning his head down to continue kissing him.
When Simon kissed Agatha, it felt good. He'd made lists in his head of reasons why he liked it and why he liked her. When Simon kissed Baz, it was illogically and crazy, yet at the same time he had never felt more at home in his life. Wrapped in Baz's arms the world was turning around them and he felt alive. The weight that he previously carried was lifted. The whole magic world could be torn to shreds but Simon wouldn't have even noticed because every single part of him was there with Baz, kissing Baz. They kissed like they had been starved for their whole lives, Simon felt that in a way he had been, but now he finally felt full.
And then Baz pulled away. Simon looked up at him sadly, because he had only just come to the realisation that not kissing Baz was so much worse than kissing Baz. Faster than he'd ever seen someone move without magic, Baz grabbed at Simon's neck and ripped his cross away, flinging it into the corner. It burnt his hand but he barely noticed.
"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that for Simon,"
"Rip off my cross or the whole snogging thing?" Simon looked at Baz with curiosity.
"You're an idiot, Snow."
"You called me Simon before."
"No I didn't." Baz responded, reminding Simon of how stubborn he really was.
"So," Simon looked at his roommate. All of a sudden, he felt lost for words, something that often happened around Baz except usually it was because he was angry at him, not because he'd just spent about 15 minutes kissing him and had already decided that it was the best moment of his life. "Do you wanna-"
"Carry on?" Baz finished.
"Yeah, I'd like that" Simon nodded. He wouldn't have liked anything else.
