The next morning we have class, which is absolutely pitiful. Not only am I not able to really be with him in public, but I have to pretend to hate him. How did I do this every day before today? How did I go about my life hating Basilton?

"Mr. Snow? Mr. Snow?" Professor Grenwhim says, tapping her pen on her desk. I snap my head towards her and smile sheepishly. I was staring at Baz again. He's 3 rows in front of me and I can't keep watching him. Even though it's just the back of his head, I feel entranced.

"Sorry, Professor. What was the question?"

She just rolls her eyes and walks away, continuing on with the class. She rattles on about the history of mages but I don't pay attention. At one point Baz turns around, pretending to stretch his neck. He catches my gaze and gives the faintest of smirks. His smile is what gets me through the rest of the class.

At lunch, I watch as Baz leaves his table of friends to head to the restroom.

"So I think that if I just adjust the wording, perhaps and ma-" Penelope is saying, rattling on about a new spell she's working on. I stand up and she stops talking, watching as I start to walk away. "Uh, Simon? Hello?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry, Penny. I'm gonna run to the bathroom. I want to hear about the spell, I promise, just give me a second!' I say, dashing away. I can practically hear her roll her eyes.

I pull open to the door to the men's restroom and walk inside. Baz is leaning against the wall, waiting. I peek under the stall doors just to be safe. No feet. We're alone.

I crash into him, pressing him against the cold stone walls. I let him take over, his lips working their way across my skin. I slip my hands underneath his shirt, feeling the soft, carved skin beneath the cotton. My lips meet his and he's moaning and I'm shaking and I hear footsteps and there's laughter and then I'm away from him and he's washing his hands casually. I do the same, just as a boy I don't know meanders into the room.

I walk out first, without making a sound. He follows shortly after and we talk quietly as we walk back to lunch. "We can't do this here," he whispers.

"I know. But I want to."

"Me, too." He takes a deep breath and sighs. I reach for his hand but then think better of it. "After class?"

"I have to work."

"Oh."

"Tonight, okay? Come to the pool when it's closing?"

Without smiling or showing really any sign of emotion, he nods his head. Then he speeds up and sits back down at his table.

The pool's practically empty this late at night, but I still have to tell a few kids to start finishing up. They climb out of the pool, laughing as water drips down their bodies, and rush to their towels. "No running!" I call halfheartedly at them as I start to clean up, folding the chairs and picking up stray towels or lost items.

The kids trickle out, heading back to their dormitories, and I'm left alone. No one else is working tonight, thankfully. I keep working on cleaning up when I hear the gate creak open.

I whip around and seem him standing there, still in his uniform. "You came," I gasp.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I guess . . . I guess I still don't believe this is real," I whisper.

"I know the feeling."

He walks in more, drops his bag on the floor, and loosens his tie. "Are you sure we're alone?"

"Yes. We close in 5 minutes. I'm in charge of locking up."

"We are outside, though. Anyone could see us if they just look out their windows."

"That's why I'm going to spell us," I smirk. I cast a Pretend We're Not Here on us and Baz smiles. "How about we go for a swim, huh?"

"I'd like that."

I slowly unbutton his shirt, taking my time. He stares at me as I do so, his gaze burning into my skin. I peel the shirt away from his skin and let it fall to the floor. He's so beautiful. His skin is stark against the near-night sky. The curves of his body are like a painting. They're so delicate yet so definite. I remove his belt and then unzip his pants. He steps out of them, keeping his eyes locked on mine. He's in his boxers and I'm in my trunks.

"Race you to the other side?" I ask.

"Snow, I just drowned yesterday."

"So?"

He laughs as I jump into the pool. The cold water encompasses my body and I try to ignore the icy chill that shakes me. I push my arms against the water and kick with all of my might. When my hand finally collides with the wall of the pool, I rise in relief, taking in a long breath. Baz is still slowly making his way through the water, smiling at me. I duck underneath and swim towards him, popping up just in front of him. He doesn't even flinch.

"Crowley, Snow, are you trying to scare me?" he sneers.

"No," I lie. I wrap my arms around his neck and swing my legs around him, weightless in the water. "What I'm trying to do," I whisper, my nose touching his, "is have a good time."

I close the distance between us and then we're kissing, my body wrapped tight around his. His hands roam the edges of my body. Mine are tangled in his long hair, pulling in desire. I untangle myself and pull Baz against me, so we're pressed against each other. "Take a deep breath" I tell him, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

I swallow a large gulp of air and he does the same. Then I press my lips against his and pull him underwater.

We let the water pull us - upside down, sideways - as we kiss, using each others' breath to keep us from drowning. He grabs at my neck, my chest, my waist. I tease the waistband of his boxers, aching to feel him against me. We sink to the bottom of the pool, pushing ourselves downwards, until Baz is flat on the floor and I'm above him, kissing him, loving him.

Loving him?

I didn't know I could fall in love so fast.

Or maybe I've always been in love with Baz.

Maybe I'm just now realizing it.

I scoop him up off the floor and pull him to the surface. We break apart just barely, solely to get some fresh air. Our foreheads are still pressed together, our lips nearly touching.

"Simon?" he whispers, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Yeah?"

"I feel like I'm still drowning."

"What do you mean?" I ask, now concerned.

"Ever since yesterday - it's all been a blur. I feel like I'm dreaming. I just . . . I can't believe this is real. I feel as if, when I drowned, I never woke up. That this is my fantasy, my subconscious, my heaven of sorts," he admits, not meeting my eyes. "Tell me I'm not still drowning. Tell me this is real. Tell me that you want to be here with me."

His eyes meet mine and there's so much in them. He's pleading, desperately, for me to fulfill his requests. But there's so much doubt in his eyes. He really don't believe this is happening - that I could actually care about him - and that breaks my heart.

"Baz," I breathe, the smallest of smiles rising on my face. "You're not drowning. You're very much alive and this is very, very real. And there is no place I would rather be but here, right now, with you."

He leans over and kisses me.

I never want to come up for air.

Fin! Sorry this was shorter than I expected. I kind of lost where I was going with the story. let me know though if you have any Snowbaz requests! Thanks for reading!