Where it’s the middle of the night, and Simon wants two things. 1. To talk to Baz. 2. Scones of course!
~*~
“Bazbazbazbazbazbaz-”
Baz groaned, and Simon stopped shaking him. “Waswrong” He muttered, shifting closer to Simon. He lazily threw an arm around Simon, a sleepy protective gesture. Brushing hair of Baz’s brow, Simon responded, “Nothing, Love.” Lying back down, he wrapped his arms around Baz. Baz murmured something incomprehensible, and tucked his head under Simon’s chin. He smiled, momentarily satisfied. The Baz started to fall asleep again.
Simon started shaking him again.
“Bazbazbazbazbazbazbaz-”
Baz rolled away. “WhadoyouwantSnow.”
For you not to go to sleep and leave me awake alone. Was his first thought.
Some scones. Was his second.
Hopping out of their bed, he fumbled out of the room to the kitchen. Causing a racket as he tipped over chairs and tables, Snow cringed. Muscle memory alone prompted him to the refrigerator, though not without him running directly into a chair. “Oof!” Doubling over, he caught his breath. The only thing keeping him going was the promise of what lie in the fridge-
Struggling to find the handle, he pulled open the door of the refrigerator. He was blinded as the automatic light came on. “gAH!” Shielding his eyes with his hand, he stuck his hand in and touched everything before finding it.
His Precious.
His one and only.
The paper bag crinkled as he pulled it out. Opening it, he inhaled the scent of his first true love. Strawberry scones.
Heaven.
Closing the door quietly as possible, he crept back the the room. Well, he tried to creep. Really, he put effort into it. Kudos to Simon.
After many “Oof!,” “AGH!,” and “Ouch!!!”-s, he tripped over the bed. Rubbing his stubbed toe ruefully, he clambered up and over to his husband.
“Bazbazbazbazbazbazbaz-”
“CROWLEYSNOW”
Not cowed in the slightest, Simon persisted. “Do you want a scone?”
Baz finally pried open his eyes. Grabbing the clock on the nightstand, he shoved it in Simon’s face. “It’s f*cking 4:20 in the morning why the hell are you eating scones?!”
The first thought that came to Simon was, anytime is a good time for scones. Then he realized the truth.
“I just wanted to spend time with you.” He mumbled.
Baz stilled, but Simon couldn’t see his face. Suddenly, he felt arms drawing him to Baz. Gladly obliging, Simon leaned back against Baz’s chest, and Baz rested his chin on his head. “I can’t decide if that was adorable or corny.”
“Let’s go with adorable. Scone?” Simon offered one up. He could feel barely contained laughter rumbling in Baz’s chest as he accepted it. “Dork.”
Simon practically sensed Baz scowling. “I’m not a dork.”
“No, you’re vamp-ork.” He amended.
Baz cringed. “No comment.”
“Do you not have the words to describe your emotions you vampork?”
“It sounds like you’re calling me a porky vampire.”
“Maybe a pig vampire.”
“Stop.”
“No.”
Eating scones and talking in his husband’s arms was- in Simon’s view- the perfect way to spend an 4:25 am. He should do this more often. However he did have a feeling that when he woke up he either a) wouldn’t remember this or b) would recognize how terribly sleep-deprived this conversation most likely was.
They ended up finishing off the scones in companionable silence. Simon felt comfortable and tired. Yawning, he snuggled up against Baz’s chest. His eyes were heavy, and his perception of the world had taken on a fuzzy edge. Baz’s breath tickled his ear occasionally, and he smiled. Baz wrapped his arms around Simon and started to slide from sitting with his back pressed against the wall into lying down position. Simon sighed contentedly. He heard Baz whisper one last thing before he drifted to sleep. “Good night, love.”
