Baz hadn't been sleeping well.
Okay, so he hadn't been sleeping at all. He couldn't help it, try as he may, he just could not sleep. He was always stressed, and now he had sleep deprivation to add to that. He lumbered through school every day like a zombie, he couldn't focus, and he was falling asleep in class. It was adversely affecting not only his grades, but his reputation.
"Oi, look at Baz. What's wrong with him, do you think? Is he sick?" Simon queried to Penelope at the breakfast table. Penelope shrugged and rolled her eyes exasperatedly.
"I haven't the faintest idea, Simon. He's your roommate, shouldn't you know what's wrong with him?"
Simon sighed back at her and ran a hand through his disheveled blonde hair.
"I don't know, Pen, he acts perfectly normal in the dorm. Well, I mean, he doesn't talk to me, like, ever. But that's not really out of the ordinary for Baz, is it?" He continued to fiddle absentmindedly with the strands of hair that fell down into his face. He watched as Baz slouched in his seat at the next table over, his eyes drooping and his hair almost dipping into his food. As Simon chewed on the side of his nail with furrowed brows, a nervous habit of his, and continued to watch Baz, the dark-haired boy lifted his head abruptly and glared right at Simon. Simon snapped out of his stupor and kept his eyes trained strictly on his plate, all the better for avoiding Baz.
"I'm going to head out," Penelope spoke for the first time in several minutes, making Simon realize that he hadn't moved a muscle since he had looked away from Baz. "There are some books I need to return to the library, and several new ones I need to pick up."
"I'll come with you," Simon suggested earnestly. If Penelope left without him, he would be stuck with only his still-full plate of food and Baz's contemptuous gaze. He risked one more glance up and saw that Baz was still glowering at him. Simon stood up and quickly followed Penelope out of the Dining Hall, not chancing another look behind him.
Baz couldn't sleep, but Snow sure could.
Baz watched silently from his bed as Simon rolled over in his sleep, mumbling something imperceptible before settling back down and mashing his face into his pillow.
Somehow, watching Simon sleep helped Baz calmed down, as creepy as it sounded. He would never admit it to another soul, living or dead, but he was much fonder of Snow when he was unconscious. He was quiet, and peaceful, and even pleasant. Baz enjoyed watching his eyes squeeze tight when the moonlight from the window streaked across his face; he reveled in Simon's soft sighs and occasional whispers. He even thought it was less-than-agitating when Simon snored ever so lightly. As much as he loathed to admit it, even to himself, he loved quiet, slumberous Snow.
Baz sighed and flopped backward on his own bed, his head landing perfectly on the pillow. He rolled this way and that, lie on his back, his side, his stomach, curled up in a ball and flat like a starfish, but nothing worked. Baz was simply unable to sleep. He feared he would never rest again. Accepting defeat for yet another night, he rolled back over and watched Snow breathe slowly, watched his chest rising and falling, watched the way his eyes flickered almost inconceivably under their lids. And so passed another night.
"I'm telling you, something's really wrong with Baz. Do you think he's up to something?" Simon pondered, slightly to himself, slightly to the girls sitting on either side of him.
"Simon, really, you need to let this go. This is exactly like sixth year all over again; you're completely obsessed!" Penelope proclaimed. Agatha nodded in agreement.
"Penny's right, Simon. You have other things to focus on, like your schoolwork, and not to mention finding the remaining hares the letter told you about. Don't waste time chasing after Baz."
Simon spared them a response, save for shaking his head and grunting. Baz was sitting in the same spot as yesterday, directly in front of him, but a table away. Simon watched him intently, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, and the hollow look on his face. Baz seemed to be staring with unwavering focus on something that no one else could see. Once again, Simon studied Baz until he was caught; Baz locked eyes with Simon just as suddenly as the day before, but this time, Simon only frowned back at him. While Baz scowled, Simon puzzled. What was going on with his roommate, and why couldn't he figure out anything about it?
This time Baz left first, abandoning his dishes and stalking out of the Dining Hall. Simon didn't see him for the rest of the day.
"Snow, go to sleep." Baz was glaring daggers at Simon from across the room. Simon pretended not to notice, and continued leafing through his Biology textbook.
"Snow, really." Simon could tell Baz was getting impatient, but he was determined to stay up and discover whatever it was that Baz was getting up to at night.
"Why?" Simon asked simply. He had to hide a grin when Baz practically growled behind him.
"Because it's late, and we have class tomorrow. Early," he added for emphasis. Simon wasn't having it.
"We also have a Biology exam tomorrow, and I need to study. You can go to sleep if you need to. I'll just go under the covers and use my wand for light." Simon was unreasonably thrilled to hear that Baz did not approve of this suggestion.
"No, I can't- Listen, just go the fuck to sleep, okay?" Simon paused in the middle of turning a page when Baz raised his voice. For just a moment, it looked like he was going to give in, but Baz wasn't nearly so lucky.
"Language, Basilton."
"Go to hell, Snow!" Baz let out a frustrated groan that Simon presumed the people in the room next door would be able to hear. He attempted to stifle a laugh as Baz aggressively yanked the blankets over his head, but didn't do a good enough job, apparently, because Baz heard him.
"It's not funny, Snow! If you don't go to sleep, I'll most likely have an anxiety attack, and I really don't think you want to deal with that. Please, just go to sleep!" he practically whined. Simon was just confused now.
"What?" he asked. "Why are you having anxiety attacks? And how will me being asleep stop it?"
Baz did not like the turn this conversation had just taken.
"It's none of your business, Snow."
"I think it is my business, because I'm somehow involved, according to you." Simon's voice had lost it's mocking edge; he was starting to become genuinely concerned for the boy sitting across from him. The aforementioned boy let out a tired sigh.
"I've been having flashbacks lately. Of my mom dying," he began. "They only happen when I'm asleep, though, and now I guess my body just won'tlet me sleep. But I still have anxiety attacks every night." Baz's face was crimson. He could not believe he was sharing this with Snow, of all people.
"Oh." Simon replied softly. The room was filled with a smoke of silence before it cleared enough for him to speak again. "But, how am I involved?"
Baz sighed again, and buried his face in his hands.
"You calm me down. I don't know why, or how, but you just...work. Watching you sleep is really relaxing, and it stops the anxiety attacks. For some reason, you help me." Baz couldn't bring himself to look at Simon, terrified of what was going to happen next. Although he started out only being able to tolerate Snow when he was asleep, somehow those feelings had carried over into the daytime, probably since none of it was really separated for Baz anymore, anyways.
Baz expected Simon to freak out, or run to the Mage's office to request a new roommate, or maybe even punch him. But none of that occurred. Instead, Simon padded almost silently over to Baz's bed and sat down beside him. Baz tensed, but still stubbornly refused to look up. He didn't move until he felt an arm around him, pulling him into a warm, strong chest. 'Bloody Snow,' he thought, 'always having to be the hero.'
However, he didn't resist when Simon pulled him gently down onto the bed, arms still wrapped firmly around his stomach. They disappeared for just a second as covers were pulled onto the two boys, but then they were back, hugging Baz just as tightly as before. Baz wasn't sure what was happening, but at this point, he was too exhausted to put up a fight. His brain was barely awake enough to comprehend that he was being held bySimon Snow. What good deed he had done to earn this, he figured he would never know. His eyes were fluttering shut when suddenly, there was a voice vibrating into his ears and through his chest.
"Is this okay? Can I help?" Simon asked. Of course he wanted to help. That's all Snow ever wanted to do was save the day. He was only doing this to fulfill his hero complex. But Baz was too weary to argue right now, so instead he answered with a defeated nod. He would just have to accept that this was all Snow could ever do for him, rescue him like he was some goddamn damsel in distress. He just had to accept it and at least make it look like he had moved on, no matter how much it tore every single fibre that his body was made of to shreds.
But then, as an unexpected and unwanted tear made its way down Baz's face, Simon pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. Baz froze, unsure of what this meant. Fucking Snow. Could he, for once, not turn Baz's entire world upside down?
Just when he started to think he had imagined the whole thing, Simon slid a hand around Baz's neck to cradle his cheek, and then turned him just slightly to face him. He ran a thumb over the damp spot on Baz's face where he had let his wall break. Then, without warning, he closed the space between them in a soft, slow kiss. Baz was too sleepy to do anything but let Snow move his lips as he pleased, though he let out a small sigh of contentment as Simon pulled away, looking him in the eyes.
"Thank you," Simon whispered, and Baz just had the mental capacity left to wonder what the hell Simon was thanking him for. Although he didn't say anything, Simon must have seen the confusion plain on his face, and he graced him with the answer to an unasked question.
"You help me, too. You keep me grounded, for one thing. You don't dote on me like every other person here does, with the exception of Penelope, and it means more to me than I can say to have someone who treats me like I'm a normal person, and not "the Mage's Heir". At the end of the day, you're one of the only real friends I have."
"Friend?" Baz asked stupidly, and he couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice. Simon laughed quietly against Baz's raven-colored hair.
"More than a friend. Thank you for that, too." He pressed one more kiss to Baz's head, and then whispered for him to close his eyes.
Baz did, and for the first time in months, he slept.