It was only after the Mage left that Simon realised that he actually hadn't gotten much information out of him. Except for the information about the tunnels. Simon was standing still, thinking when Baz and the rest of his team came back into the school, cheering along with the crowd behind them.
"Baz!" Simon cried but his voice was lost in the cheers of those around him.
Through the gaps between heads, Simon was able to catch glimpses of Baz, sweaty and with one of his rare grins upon his face chatting amongst his teammates. For once Simon saw upon Baz's face such a sense of belonging that he realised how much the boy must have missed the sport. Not for the physical aspect, but the kinship that came out of it. Baz spotted Simon and his smile grew.
"Snow!" he called out.
While Simon was being pushed with the pulse of the crowd Baz was able to wade right through it, coming to a stop over the shorter boy.
"Baz!" Simon shouted to be heard over the bustling crowd, "Congratulations on winning the game!"
Baz tilted his head, smile wilting a little and said, "….."
"What?" Simon shouted.
Baz rolled his eyes and pushed his sweaty errant lock of hair out of his face.
Bending down so that his mouth was level to Simon's ear, he said, "I was saying that I had absolutely no idea what you just said and asked if you wanted to go somewhere quieter."
Simon turned his head to speak into Baz's ear, "Sure. And I have news from the Mage."
Baz jerked his head back and nodded once.
Of course, getting to a quieter place was easier said than done when surrounded by a crowd of people, it was not until Simon and Baz made it back to their dormitory that they had peace from the noise of sports fans.
"What I said first," Simon informed Baz, "Was congratulations on winning the match."
Baz grinned broadly, "Thanks Simon," he said sincerely before continuing, "and thanks for distracting the Mage so I could play."
"That's alright," Simon said, "But it wasn't really necessary."
"Why?" Baz asked, shocked.
"Because the Mage already knew somehow, and didn't care, he said you were 'just levelling the playing field.'" Simon replied.
"Well that was nice of him," Baz said, only slightly sarcastically.
'Oh, and Baz?" Simon exclaimed, "Guess what?"
"Umm, I don't know?"
"The Mage took me into the tunnels." Simon said enthusiastically.
"What tunnels?" Baz was confused.
"You know," Simon said, deflating a bit, "the tunnels you were telling me about, that were built before the school and all that."
Baz laughed in disbelief, "I was making them up," he remarked ruefully, shaking his head, "I should have known they'd actually exist."
"Wait, you made them up?" Simon asked slightly hurt.
Baz rolled his eyes, "Did you really think monks were wizards, Simon?"
"It was your tone of voice," Simon defended himself valiantly, "And you can't blame me, really. Not when it turns out there are actually tunnels!"
"Okay, okay," Baz frowned, "There are actually tunnels and what does this have to do with anything?"
Simon took a deep breath, "Well…I told the Mage that the Humdrum was in Watford and he said that was impossible. This was followed by him taking me into the tunnels and explaining they have ancient enchantments that do not allow anything with ill intentions into Watford."
Baz gave Simon a swift glance. A heavy silence filled the room as the news sunk in.
"For once, could you forget about the Humdrum?" Baz said quietly.
Simon's face flooded with hurt before he put up his hero mask.
"Is that what you really want, Pitch? To forget about who I am and what I was born to do?"
"Golly Simon," Baz moved slightly too fast for a human to stand between Simon and the door, "Don't take that the wrong way."
"How am I meant to take it Baz?" Simon snapped.
Baz paused, thinking out the words in his head before carefully stating, "I'm starting to feel like you don't want me around."
"I've never wanted you around." Simon said, trying to push past his roommate.
"Point," Baz moved to block the door, "That was true. Until you decided that you always wanted me around. That life is just a hollow shell of itself unless you know my heart is beating somewhere in the very local vicinity."
"Have I decided that?"
"Maybe it was me that decided. Never mind. Same difference."
Simon took a deep, obviously unnerved, breath.
"Snow, are you unnerved?"
"Slightly."
"Alastair Almighty. I never thought I'd live to see the day." Baz remarked smirking at Simon.
"You do realise that you sounded like a stalker, right?" Simon asked.
"Of course I do, I wanted to see if anything would creep you out. Being a vampire didn't work, but insinuating that I'm stalking you did. How very interesting." Baz continued smirking.
"Oh, shut up you." Simon said, blushing.
"Are you aware just how illogical you are, Simon Snow?" Baz asked seriously, looking down at Simon.
The sudden change in mood startled Simon.
"W-what do you mean Baz?" Simon stammered.
"Just all of it," Baz gestured around the room, "So illogical I don't know how you stand it, and serious."
"Serious?"
"More….long-suffering. Just one of the many reasons I love you." Baz said lightly.
Simon, more in shock than anything else, managed a strangled, response of, "B-but that's one of the reasons I love you!"
"Puh-lease," Baz walked over to Simon, pushing the styled hair out of shape, "who's the one who is called the Mage's heir?"
"Me but-"
"And creator of the Humdrum?"
"Me but-"
"Also, my boyfriend?"
"Me but-"
"See," Baz grinned triumphantly, "definitely long-suffering, and serious."
"But Baz," Simon looked up at him with wide eyes, "I'm not long-suffering or any of the things you've said!"
"Good, so, Simon Snow, will you come to a celebratory party with me?" Baz smirked.
"What?" Simon, hopeless as always, was dazzled by the changing Baz.
"A party at Watford. For winning the football match," Baz sneered, "All the others are going, Tallulah, Howie, Darcy….."
"And you want me there?"
"Would I have asked you otherwise?"
"Have there always been celebratory parties?" Simon spoke his thoughts aloud, "When you win matches?"
"What do you think?" Baz asked.
"Yes?" Simon asked in return.
"Of course there have been, but you've probably never been interested enough in football to have paid any attention to them, much less gone to one." Baz smirked.
"You're probably right about that," Simon said sheepishly, "I can be a bit…. Unobservant when I'm not interested in something."
"That's an understatement." Baz said, rolling his eyes.
"Do you know how many years it took me to get you to notice me when you didn't particularly like me?"
"N-no." Simon stuttered, surprised.
"More than a few, let me tell you that!"
"Really?" Simon asked, curious now.
"Yes, but you aren't getting any more out of me on that subject, Simon." Baz said firmly.
"Spoilsport." Simon smiled at Baz.
"Am not." Baz smiled back, more light-hearted than he had been for a long time.
"Sure you aren't." Simon rolled his eyes at Baz.
"I'm really not," Baz stated calmly, "and don't think I didn't notice you rolling your eyes at me."
Simon immediately did it again.
Baz shook his head, "Are you ready to go to the party?" he asked.
"No," Simon exclaimed, shocked, "what do I wear?"
Baz looked at Simon critically, "Are you really asking me what you should wear?"
"Well, yes." Simon answered uncomfortably.
Baz sighed, then with a slight smirk muttered, "You'd look beautiful no matter what you wear."
Simon ignored his slightly ironic tone and asked a follow up question, "What are you going to wear?"
Baz sneered, "I'm going to have a quick shower, change in that time Snow, or I'll leave you behind."
He leant to swiftly brush his lips against Simon's forehead. Before leaving the shocked boy to look at the locked door.
"Damn you, Pitch!" Simon glanced at his clothing options in dismay.