More (!) SnowBaz One Shots
Its been an hour since they got her and they still couldn’t think of a name. Simon held the dog’s leash as they walked down the busy streets of London. A week after their pivotal We Should Get a Dog discussion they found themselves in one of the many animal shelters London had to offer. The couple was instantly smitten with the stout American bulldog because, well, she appeared to be smiling, underbite and all.
“Baz, darling, loved one, we need to get this dog. She wants to be loved. By us. Lookit, she even has upside down fangs.” Simon then pointed to the aforementioned underbite.
It didn’t take much to convince Baz.
Which is why they were currently wracking their brains for the newest member of their family. Simon held the dog’s leash, but the dog was leading him more than Simon was walking her. His arm was outstretched all the way, and Baz would be a damn fool if he didn’t notice the way Simon’s arm was toned underneath the cotton of his Iron Man comic shirt.
She was panting heavily, and Simon and Baz weren’t sure if it was due to all of the excitement of the day, she was hot, or maybe she just tired super easily.
“Okay,” started Simon, “we gotta give our furry little friend a name. Say the first name that comes to mind.”
“Veronica.” Baz blurted out.
“Too average American housewife.”
“Oh my god Baz you have been watching way too much Riverdale.” Baz blushed slightly, and Simon would be lying if he said he didn’t find it adorable. “But… what about the name Betty? I kind of like how it's the quintessential grandma name.” Simon looked at the ground, waiting for the snark that was bound to leave Baz’s lips.
“I think that’s a perfect name, Snow.” The two, well, three, of them stopped in their tracks, and Simon and Baz looked at each other and shared a smile filled with blissful happiness. Baz then bent down on the sidewalk and looked right at Betty.
“Welcome to the family, Betty Snow-Pitch.”
And to think Baz said he didn’t like dogs.
———————————————————————————————————
“Your nose is going to peel so badly in a few days.” Remarked Baz sparing a glance from the driver’s seat at his boyfriend, who was preoccupied with looking out the window, looking like a tired toddler. His bronze curls were disheveled, sand peeking out from the base of his scalp, new freckles already forming on his cheekbones, and, of course, a nose the color of strawberry jam. (Someone forgot to reapply sunscreen after they took a dip in the water.)
“Ugh, yes I know Baz. I’m burnt. I’m crisp. I have baby skin or whatever you called it earlier. We get it, the sun’s wrath conquered me.” Simon said playfully, a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips. Baz chuckled, his nose crinkled up. “Oh Christmas,” Simon said with realization, “Penny is absolutely going to destroy me. My nose, my shoulders, even my bloody legs— I look like a walking tomato.”
Now Baz was full on hysterical laughing, his nose all scrunched, eyes squinted, lips revealing every one of his pearly whites. He “good-naturedly” stuck his hand out to pat Simon on the shoulders, an act of comradeship he claimed, which resulted in an aggravated wince from Simon. With his pale gray eyes back on the road and arms lazily gripping the wheel at 10 and 2, he said “Oh cheer up, Snow. Maybe we can pick up some aloe vera gel on the way home. I’d be more than happy to rub it on your toasty shoulders.” Baz and Simon made brief eye contact, Baz raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Simon smiled a sweet, shy smile, exposing a dimple in his left cheek. “Alright, Baz, then I think this whole sunburn ordeal might be worth it after all.” Simon went back to gazing out the window absentmindedly. He stuck his hand out of the open car window, making waves in the air, angling his wrist this way and that, redirecting the breeze.
The drive home from the beach was filled with content silence. Their bodies tight from the sun, sand trapped in the seams of the fabric seats, sunglasses lazily resting on their heads, and golden, late-afternoon rays capturing the moment forever in a hazy glow.
———————————————————————————————————
It was a year after the incident. You know, the incident from last year during winter break. With the Mage and Ebb and Simon— yeah, you know the one.
Simon and Baz had just arrived back at Simon’s apartment from Watford. Penny was staying with her parents.
Watford had thrown a remembrance type event to celebrate Ebb’s memory, the conquer of Good over Bad, the evil, the Insidious Humdrum, or whatever you would want to call it. Everyone was “invited,” but it wasn’t a celebration where people sent out invites or anything. It was like a funeral, people heard about it through word of mouth.
Headmistress Bunce wanted to honor the courage of everyone involved the whole affair, carefully avoiding any mention of the Mage.
Baz saw how hard it was for Simon to be back, especially on the anniversary of the night that Simon lost his gift, his power. He could practically feel the pain radiating off of Simon. Baz wanted to be a sponge and absorb all of his troubles.
He saw that he only cried once during the whole affair. When he saw Ebb’s portrait as they walked into the school.
But they were home now. Thankfully no one stared at Simon for too long or asked him how it felt being magic-less. If they did, so help him god, Baz would have made them wish they’d never been born.
Simon climbed into bed, not bothering to shower, simply slipping on his sweatpants and a worn gray cotton t-shirt. Baz followed suit, carefully taking off his clothes and hanging them up neatly in the closet. (It didn’t matter that he didn’t live there, half of Simon’s wardrobe was filled with Baz’s things.) Baz climbed into bed and snuggled up next to Simon, enveloping him in his arms.
“Love,” he started tentatively, “do you want to talk ab-“
“No, Baz. I love you, but I can’t relive it right now.” His voice was muffled. Simon had his good days and his bad, like everyone. He was working hard with his therapist to overcome the trauma of that fateful winter day, and he was also relearning who he was. A sometimes painful and heartbreaking process. But for the most part, he was his usual annoyingly charming self. But today was one of those really bad days.
“Tell me a story, Baz,” Simon whispered. They would play this game sometimes when life became too overwhelming; they’d escape themselves for a little bit.
“Okay, love.” Baz nestled his head in the space between Simon’s head and shoulder. He began: “There was once a prince, and he was so stupidly brave. And kind. Like, he was the type of guy who would’ve washed the windows of a children’s hospital dressed as Spiderman type of kind. He was made out of it. He tried to make everyone feel like they had a special place in this world.” Baz paused, thinking about where the story should go next. He reached up and brushed his fingers through Simon’s hair.
“But, somehow, the prince realized that he wasn’t really a prince.” Baz could tell Simon knew where the story was going, but he was kind enough to let him continue. “However, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t technically a prince anymore, because he was still himself, ya know, just without all those fancy titles. He was still stupidly brave, and more good-looking than anyone had a right to be, and still so marvelously kind.” He paused and kissed Simon’s ear. “You are still you, Simon. Please, never forget that. Never forget that I will always love you, Simon, in any form. Chosen One, prince, vampire, toad, it doesn’t matter, you are still you.”
The pair of them stayed quiet for a long time when Simon finally broke the silence and turned to face Baz in the dark. “I love you too, Baz, in any form. Forever.”
“I know, Simon.” They leaned their foreheads against each other, an act so intimate, more so than any kiss, and it felt like their hearts were jolted using jumper cables. “Let's get some rest, love.”
And they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
origamiaround
tangentwithtanner
germansingergirl
pixelskylines
