Simon woke up more confused than he ever had before.
He'd never had a dream like that before.
Baz had been front and center in his nightmares for so long. He'd been the enemy since the day Simon had met him. Perhaps even before that day.
Baz had literally tried to murder him before.
But there were gray areas now. There was no denying that things were different lately. The two had called a temporary truce, and Baz wasn't so... evil anymore. Penny had admitted that Baz wasn't as bad as she'd thought. Being on his side was... different. He wasn't constantly worrying about where he was or what he was doing (although he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy knowing). Baz had even invited him home for the holidays. If they had met under different circumstances, with different names, they might even have been friends.
It gave Simon a lot to think about.
And dream about, apparently.
Maybe his brain was just confused by everything happening lately.
Why else would he think about his roommate like that?
Why would he think about dancing with him at the leaver's ball?
Correction-dream. He hadn't thought about it consciously.
Well, now he was.
He stared at Baz's empty bed. The room felt emptier without the other boy there smell had lingered, though. It was never really gone. Simon never minded it. Actually, he almost liked it?
Christ. What was wrong with him?
Why was he so tempted when Baz asked him to his house for the winter?
And why did he feel better whenever he knew where Baz was?
And sick when he thought about having to maybe fight him again someday?
Did he even hate Baz at all?
His brain told him yes, always, but it didn't sound right anymore.
Why hadn't he realized this before?
Well, probably because they were enemies. Yes, that was definitely it.
But Simon spent so much time and talking about Baz and looking for Baz and ignoring Baz and thinking about Baz, Baz, Baz.
Baz...
There was definitely something wrong with Simon.
If Baz knew he was thinking about him like this, he would probably call an end the truce and off him right on the spot.
When Simon went to bed that night, it was with a horrible feeling of shame-and admittedly an even stronger sense of longing, even if he wasn't yet sure what it was for.