SIMON
"Wow. Simon, you look terrific!" Penny says. "When did you get that?"
I give her a quick rundown of making and carrying out my plan, then I look over at Baz again to gauge his reaction. He's still standing in what I assume is slack-jawed amazement.
"Use your words, Pitch," I say.
He gathers himself, smiles with one side of his mouth and raises an eyebrow. "Well, we already knew you clean up decenlty, didn't we?"
We say our goodbyes to Penny, and as soon as the door clicks shut behind us, Baz pivots and steps in front of me, stopping me short. "Do you even know how amazing you look, you ridiculous fuck?" he says under his breath, leaning in so our faces are nearly touching. Then he attacks, pressing me backwards into the closed door.
As much as I'd like to linger like this, It's hard to kiss someone properly when you're grinning, so I give up after a moment and pull away, saying "I think I do, because I'm looking right at something just as incredible." Then I let my eyes run down his body and Baz's face actually colors. He must have fed right before he came over. This thought calls up an image of him, slinking through Watford's catacombs, dressed in the very nicely-fitting suit he's wearing. The idea is mildly terrifying, and very hot, and embarrassingly, an involuntary sound escape my throat.
"Alright you shameless flirts. I can hear you through the door, you know. Get a move on!" Penny yells at us from inside the flat. I think we've both turned a deeper shade of pink, if that's even possible.
BAZ
It turns out that the evening is starting off quite well. Besides finding myself indecently attracted to the sight of my boyfriend kitted out in one of the finest suits in London, the other sensation I'm feeling right now is relief. Not because Snow looks presentable, I'm not that shallow (I think). It's because it is now evident that he's not treating this outing as a mere lark.
He's just let his eyes rove brazenly over my body and I think he actually moaned. I take him by the hand and pull him down the steps before Bunce can yell at us again, and before we decide to forget about the concert and spend the rest of the night right here in the stairwell.
When we hit the street the fresh air helps me clear my head. I give Simon's hand squeeze and flash him a real smile before focusing on getting us where we need to be. We have reservations for dinner at a restaurant near the Barbican. We take the tube there and, unsurprisingly, turn a few heads along the way. I wasn't kidding when I said we're better looking than any couple has a right to be.
