Baz
It's late and I'm lying in bed wide awake. Simon curled up and fell asleep ages ago, leaving me with nothing to do but stare at him. Watching Simon when I can't sleep has become a habit now, almost an addiction, but I can't help myself when it comes to him. I used to think he was beautiful in the sun, but with the pale moonlight glinting off his ever-bright skin, he appears to be glowing. His golden curls are splayed across the Watford-issued pillowcase - Crowley, how I want to run my fingers through that hair. My eyes drift to his face. When Snow is asleep his features seem to relax, giving him a calming, peaceful aura that enslaves me. His lips look soft and they're slightly parted and I can't stop picturing what it would be like to kiss those lips. To kiss Simon bloody Snow and those goddamn moles and to hold him in my arms, letting him warm me all the way to my icy bones. I pull my gaze away from him. Snow is unattainable. He's my sworn enemy - he has been since we met. Nonetheless, one of these days, we're going to end the childish taunting and fight like real men, when this happens only one of us can make it out alive - and it won't be me. However, I would be glad to die at the hands of the Chosen One, if it meant he would give me the satisfaction of being touched by him... I'm hopeless.
I let my eyes wander back to him, as they always do. Simon Snow. I whisper the name into the darkness, it rolls off my lips. He has got to be the most beautiful creature imaginable. From his stupidly gorgeous face to the alluring way he carries himself. He's the Chosen One, the mage's heir, and I'm just his infuriating vampire roommate who has made his life miserable since the day we met.
A frigid gust of wind from the open window snaps me out of my thoughts. Snow shifts in his sleep, no doubt from a nightmare, and I don't dare budge. With the aid of my enhanced hearing, I notice that his breathing is no longer slow and even, but sharp and quick and his heart is beating at a spastic pace. He is awake and I cannot afford for him to catch me staring. But I can't look away. His enchanting blue eyes flutter open. There's nothing special about his eyes, they're just blue, but I am frozen in place. I know that he sees me - even in the dark, the faint light streaming in from the window is just enough for him to pick me out in the bed less than five feet away.
"Baz," he says. His voice, though barely a whisper and still husky from sleep, startles me. "Why are you staring? Have you been watching me sleep?" I open my mouth to answer but no sound comes out. "Are you planning how you may kill me in my sleep?" Classic Snow, always suspecting that I'm up to something.
"In your dreams Snow. Don't be so thick, I'm just..." I realize that I could tell him. Tell him the truth about my feelings for him. This would be the perfect time ; he's half asleep and he probably won't even remember this in the morning. But what if he does?
"Baz I don't want to do this anymore," he says, and before I can ask what 'this' is, he continues, "I don't want to fight."
Simon
I say it without even thinking, the way I do most things. Even in the darkness, I can see that Baz is confused, and slightly nervous. I probably caught him while he was plotting my demise. Merlin, he's so notorious - and handsome. No, that's not right. He's evil. Nevertheless, what I said was true : I am done fighting with him.
"What do you mean you don't want to fight anymore? What's getting to your head Snow, we're enemies, we are meant to fight," he exclaims bitterly.
"We're not enemies. The enemy is the Humdrum and we're meant to fight him, not each other. You and I, we're on the same team," I reply.
"Snow, you hate me," Baz says matter-of-factly.
"No don't. Well I don't have to anyway," I throw back, "and you mean to say you don't hate me?"
"Snow I..." he trails off, dumbstruck. And for some unknown reason, I pity him.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, closing my eyes. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought that maybe - I don't know - we could work something out."
"Well we can't," Baz remarks coolly.
"Why not?" I can't stop myself from asking.
When he doesn't answer me, I glace over to his bed, only to find that he seems to have disappeared without my knowledge.
Then, suddenly, I feel lips on my own. His lips. His cold hands cup my face and I find his body and guide my hands down his back to rest on his hips. He smells nice, like all of the fancy products in our shower that I am forbidden to touch. 'I don't want this to end,' I think to myself. As if reading my mind, Baz pulls away at that instant.
"That's why," he breathes. "I'm sorry, Simon. I'm so sorry."
"W-"
"I'm in love with you, I have been since first year when the Crucible cast us together. I can't stop battling against you because it's the only thing that keeps me sane. It would be too painful to be your friend, knowing that you'll never truly be mine." On those last words, his voice cracks and tears start to pool in his misty gray eyes.
I want to respond, but I don't know what to say, and since I've never been good with words, I do the first thing that pops into my head - I pull him into my bed and kiss him back.
Baz
Simon Snow is kissing me. I'm kissing Simon Snow. It took me by surprise when he wrenched me into his bed, kissing my lips. A hurricane of thoughts race around in my mind, but none of that is important, not when I have Simon Snow right in front of me. One his hands is pressed to the back of my neck, while the other is caressing my face. Without separating from Simon, I maneuver my body so that I am lying next to him comfortably, and slide my arms around his waist. This is intoxicating. I can't think about anything but Simon and how perfectly his mouth moves against mine.
He breaks away from the kiss, moving his arms around my neck. His face is only centimeters away from my own and he's holding me so close that I can feel the slight rise and fall of his chest. I stare into his eyes thinking about everything that I love about him. I love his smile and the way that it seems to bring colour to everything around him. I love the way his face contorts with worry when he needs to rush off and save the day and I love his need to be the hero. I love the juvenile glint in his eyes and the way that he seems so confident and careless, as if he's oblivious to the fact that he is the single most important mage to ever grace the face of the earth (not to mention the most perfect). I cannot conjure up a single thing that I don't like about Simon Snow.
"Simon," I barely manage to whisper.
I tilt my head ever so slightly and catch his lips with my own. He responds quickly, kissing me back as if it's not something he should think about, as if we weren't archenemies only hours ago. His fingers trail through my somewhat shaggy hair and he drapes one of his legs over mine, forcing me closer to him. I don't know how to react, I can't believe that this is happening - I'm snogging Simon Snow. It hardly feels real, but I hope it lasts.
The kiss is passionate and I find myself unable to concentrate on anything but the heat radiating off of him. The warmth is almost overwhelming, but not painful. It's seeping into my flesh, into my core and I'm melting, wasting away, dying - in the best way. Simon Snow is going to kill me and I am not going to stop him.
Soon we pull away in need of air, our limbs remain tangled. I glide one of my hands up the curve of Simon's back, drawing him closer to me. Our chests are pressed together, hearts beating as one. There is no space between us, yet I still want him - need him - closer to me.
Eventually Snow's breaths even out and I realize that he's fallen asleep. I know I should leave, but I can't bring myself to do so. I feel compelled to stay, it's as if my life depends on this one moment with Simon. If I leave, it would be like this never happened. So I remain in Snow's bed, emerged in him. Before long, my eyelids droop and my surroundings fade away as sleep drags me under.
Simon
"Le' me sleep," I mumble tiredly, only half conscious. I bury my face deeper into the shoulder of the person lying next to me. That's not right. All of a sudden, I'm fully alert. Baz is lying next to me, running his fingers through my unruly curls. We're both lying on our sides, face to face, entwined in each other.
With my consciousness comes the memories of the night before. I am in disbelief, last night felt like a dream. The feel of his lips on mine and having him pressed up against me made me realize that that was what I'd wanted ever since I met him. I don't want to think about what happens next.
"Good morning, Snow," Baz's voice brings me back to reality. I lift my head up to look him in the eye. His eyes are gray, like miserable skies, and up close, they're enticing. His entire being is enticing, from his smooth ebony hair and his milky white skin, to his long, nimble fingers and his low, steady voice. I bite my lip, it's all I can do to hold myself back from kissing him.
"Mornin'," I reply, drowsily. We lie motionless, not daring to utter a word, until I break the silence. "Baz, I think we need to talk."
"Yeah, Snow, I reckon we do," he replies, the mere sound of his voice soothes the nerves that are building up inside me.
"Okay," I say, "alright, let's talk. Also, you called me Simon before"
"No I didn't," he replies, a small grin playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Yes, I believe you did," I say insistently.
"N-," he begins, but changes his mind. "Fine. Whatever. Simon. Let's talk," he repeats.
"So," I start, then as to avoid delaying the inevitable, I say, " what does this mean?"
"What do you want it to mean?" He asks me. It seems as though he's fine with stalling.
"I'm not sure," I reply honestly, "but you said..." I remember what he said last night, before we started snogging, and I'm sure he recalls it just as vividly. "I like this much better than fighting," I conclude.
"That's it then?" Baz says incredulously. "This is better than fighting." He eyes drop from my gaze, his face falls with disappointment and I feel a twinge of regret.
"It wasn't supposed to sound like that," I say, desperately wanting to fix this. "I want this to mean something." And it's true. I don't want this to be forgotten. I like Baz, a little more that I probably should.
"What are you getting at?"
I move one of my hands under his chin and push his head up so that we're eye to eye. "What I mean - what I'm trying to say is-" I take a breath and the words spill out of me. "Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, will you be my boyfriend?" I want this more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.
His face splits into the widest smile I have ever seen. "Simon Snow," he announces, as if he's rehearsed it, "I would be honored."