Simon was having a bad day.
Actually, he wasn't entirely sure that the word 'bad' covered all the bases. It started in the morning when he somehow managed to magic his cheek to his pillow while he slept. When he sat up his still sleepy brain couldn't process why his squishy pillow was coming up with him.
He'd looked over to Baz in bewilderment but Baz was bloody useless. He took one look at Simon and burst out laughing. He laughed all the way to the washroom and Simon really wanted to throw a pillow at his retreating back but, well, that wasn't happening unless he somehow magically gave himself enough muscles to throw himself across the room. So Simon had stood there in front of the full length mirror and he stared at the stunned fool that looked back at him.
By the time Baz had come out of the washroom, looking like one of the modelling wizards Simon always glared at whenever he had to look through catalogues to buy robes, Simon was flushed, sticky and stinky but he'd managed to pull the pillow out from the pillowcase. Now only a white pillowcase remained dangling from his cheek.
Simon called that improvement.
He only had a slight problem left. Well a slightly big problem. He couldn't find his wand. He knelt beside his bed and searched underneath the frame but all he found were mismatched socks and a mint aero bar stuck behind the frame. The ends of the pillow case brushed against the floor and stirred up dust. Simon gave a great sneeze and hit his head into the metal bed frame.
"Sweet Merlin!" Simon pulled his head out from beneath the bed and rubbed at the spot on the back of his head.
"Are you looking for pixies again, Simon?" Baz squinted at Simon, or at least, what parts of Simon he could see.
Simon shuffled and went to stand up but he stepped on the end of the pillowcase and sent himself sprawling face-first into the mattress.
Baz snorted.
"Shut up, just shut up," Simon's voice was muffled as he spoke into his mattress. "Just tell me where you hid my wand."
"Me? Why would I want to hide your wand?"
"Oh I don't know," Simon said sarcastically, "maybe so that you can beat me at the practise duels later today."
"Simon," Baz said evenly, "I'd beat you even if you had five fully-functional wands."
Simon had enough. He was absolutely positive that he was the most miserable that he'd ever been. His footsteps squished with every step he took and he could feel his wet foot squirming around in his waterlogged shoes. He tracked a Simon-shaped puddle all the way back to the dormitories. He couldn't bring himself to care enough to brush away the wet hair that was plastered to his face. He was wet, cold, grumpy and hungry. What he really wanted to do was strip off his dripping cloak, kick his annoying roommate out and wallow in a satisfying tub of well deserved pumpkin mint ice cream.
As he climbed the stairs to his dormitory he prayed to any god that was listening to take pity on him and make his roommate disappear for a couple hours. When he pushed open the door he knew he couldn't be so lucky. Baz looked up from his textbook when the door banged against the wall and Simon stood framed in the doorway. Baz's mouth dropped a little when he took in Simon's state.
"Crowley Simon, what the hell happened to you? You look like someone tried to drown you." He stood up from his chair but he didn't come any closer to Simon. Maybe he thought that Simon's luck was catching.
Simon glared poisoned tipped daggers at Baz. "Baz, you know I don't ask for much from you because we both know it's pointless. You'll just do whatever you bloody-well please. But tonight can you just do one thing for me? Just one little thing?"
Baz looked at Simon uncertainly. "Uhh, okay?"
Simon emotionlessly looked at Baz. "Just shut up, ok? I don't want to hear one little snarky comment from you, ok?" He pushed past an uncharacteristically surprised Baz without waiting for a reply. He shoved himself into the bathroom and angrily shut the door before Baz could think of something rich to say.
With chattering teeth and fumbling fingers he unbuttoned the buttons on his cloak before he peeled the sopping mess off and threw it onto the floor. His uniform joined the cloak until he was standing there, shivering in his boxers. He grabbed his towel off the rack and started towel-drying his hair. With his luck he'd probably set his hair on fire if he tried an It's Like A Heat Wave spell.
Simon's hair was a frizzy mess of curls by the time he was finished. He shrugged into his plush bathrobe and hung his wet clothes over the shower rod. Simon bet himself a week's worth of Aero bars that Baz would find it hilarious to leave his clothes hanging there while he took his shower in the morning.
When he opened the door he was pleasantly surprised to find a completely Baz-free dorm room.
"Maybe he finally took a hint," Simon grumbled to himself as he walked over to his side of the room and quickly crawled into his pyjamas. He didn't know when Baz was going to decide to stroll in and he definitely did not want to be standing there, clad only in his boxers, when he did.
He tossed his bathrobe onto the back of his chair and gleefully crawled into bed. He sank back into his pillow and pulled the covers up around his chin and he sighed. There was nothing quite like falling into a warm bed at the end of a horrendously horrible day.
Wait, why was his bed warm? He opened his eyes and frowned as his hands felt around his mattress. There was a comfortable warmth produced wherever he pressed down. He lifted himself up onto his elbow and shoved a fist into a corner of his pillow. His fist quickly started tingling from warmth.
He flopped back onto his pillow and frowned up at the ceiling. This was obviously spell work. Baz's spell work. What confused him was that there was only one spell that was capable of heating a bed. The realization made his heart beat a little faster and he wasn't quite ready to analyze his response.
The only spell known to warm a bed was Goodnight, My Love.
Thanks for reading! :)