Chapter 1: The Camp Bed
"Simon? Where's your bed?"
I look up from the pile of clean clothes I'm shoving into my dresser as I unpack. Penny is peering around my doorframe, a bewildered look on her face.
"It's still down in the truck. I'll go collect it in a moment. Wanted to take a break from the stairs."
Penny narrows her eyes at me. "I thought you were going to buy a mattress and have it delivered. What bed, exactly, is downstairs?"
"The bed I was sleeping on back at your house?" It's not a question. Or, it shouldn't be, but I sheepishly turn it into one. "Your mum said I could borrow it a while."
"Simon, no! Not the camping cot!"
"What's this about a cot?" Baz's voice carries from his spot on the couch in our new living room.
I shrug at Penny. "I just haven't gotten round to buying a proper bed."
Baz peeks into the room and mirrors Penny's posture at the door. "Really, Snow, a camp bed?"
Penny smirks at him then returns her gaze to me. "Yeah, the cot isn't going to be very… welcoming," she says meaningfully.
I feel my ears start to burn red. I risk a glance at Baz; his eyes have widened and he is intently staring at a point in space near my right knee. I can just see a pink tint spreading over his cheeks.
"Crowley! You two look like you might be sick when I say that. I'm just teasing." Penny puts a hand on Baz's arm and captures his eye. "Don't worry, Basilton, there's always the floor."
I can tell Baz is considering flinching away. Instead he just rolls his eyes. "What I get up to on the floor is really none of your business, Bunce," he says while looking at my face.
Ah. I probably should clarify what is and isn't ok to share with my best friend regarding intimate relations. Such as they are.
After everything happened at Christmas and Baz went back to Watford for spring term, Penny sat me down on her bed and made me fill her in on all the juicy details of my whirlwind love affair. I told her about snogging in Baz's library before she and Agatha arrived, and her eyebrows lifted in surprise. Then I told her about the night before when I'd pushed Baz back onto the floor of his room and more or less straddled him. Her surprise turned to a smirk, and she's teased me about it ever since.
Not that there's been anything real to tease me about. Since that heated night our physical relationship has been much more... chaste.
Well. Except for one time.
But that doesn't stop Penny from trying to rile Baz up. I think she's trying to win him over with antagonism, and I think it's working.
Baz rolls his eyes again and I can tell he's not really angry with me. "Come on, Bunce. Let's leave this git to his poor life choices." His eyes narrow slightly as he surveys the area where a real bed most certainly isn't. His eyes linger on my face for a moment and his expression softens before he turns from my doorway.
I really can't demand that Simon get a proper bed to seduce me in.
Intimacy has been, well, off the table for a while. And I'm really alright with that. Really.
I'd realized I wasn't quite ready for that part of our relationship when... Let's just say an opportunity presented itself after my leaver's ball and we both hesitated.
I sit back on Simon and Penny's couch and look at my phone. A few moments later Simon heaves the folding monstrosity through the front door and pauses, leaning on his arms across the top of the folded bed. His taut, muscled arms with sweat dripping down his neck. Crowley, I'm thirsty.
"Hey," he says and smiles at me. "Sorry about... Sorry." He gestures vaguely to the camp bed.
I want to say something cutting yet gentle to deflect (it's what we do), but I can't think of anything. "You don't need to... It's OK, we - -"
"Baz," he cuts me off. His expression turns mischievous. "Want to come help me set this up in my room?"
"And by that you mean--"
"Help me make the bed and then let me snog you on it."
I feel my cheeks flush. Yes, I do want that. Very much so.
He takes in my hesitation and lowers his voice. "I'm not planning to deflower you on a folding bed." My cheeks burn hotter but I nod minutely and get up from the couch.
This bed really is horrible. Even after Baz helps me put a cushioned top pad on it, the metal frame digs into my back as he kisses me into the mattress.
I'd tried to gently push him to lay down so I could hover over him, but he'd pushed back. ("Really, Snow. This is your questionable bed, you should be the one to lie in it.")
I really don't mind. Having Baz over me makes me feel vulnerable in a way I'm still getting used to, and my back is aching, but the stupid camp bed puts a finite, predictable end in sight for this snogging session.
Not that I ever want it to end. But I do. I want to reach under all his clothes and claw at his skin and draw pleasure from his body. And I also want him to pull away, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, and tell me he has to get home. I want him to leave me alone in my uncomfortable and unwelcoming folding bed so I can wank over him and clear my head.
Something awoke in me at Baz's leaver's ball when he said all that lovely tosh about choosing me. When I kissed him, it was because my body ached for him. I wanted him so badly. I haven't wanted anything like that since that night on the floor of his room. Or maybe ever.
I didn't go to the ball with any intention of dragging Baz into a dark classroom and ravishing him against the door, but that's sort of what happened.
Baz's fingers tangled in my hair as I wound my arms under his jacket and scrabbled at his poshly pressed shirt trying to get at skin. I tried to stop my hips from rolling against his, but only managed to slow it to an excruciatingly teasing push into him that was infinitely worse. How did I get like this, I wonder as I lick into his mouth.
All the things I wanted to do to Baz flitted across my erotic imagination. I groaned into his mouth and then pulled away as I realized something.
"Baz," I said, trying to catch my breath. "I'm going to call Penny to give me a ride back to her place."
He opened his eyes and settled his unfocused eyes on my lips, his fingers still pulling gently at my hair. Confusion slowly slipped across his face. "What?"
"Penny's going to drive me home. I need to call her."
Baz frowned slightly. "I thought you might... stay the night. With me." His gaze drifted meaningfully down to our entangled bodies.
"I really want to... I want to..." A blush spread across my face. "I want to do things to you." Baz raised his eyebrow wordlessly. I felt the unasked question from him: why is this a problem? "I'm just not ready," I answered. "I'm not ready, but I can't stop thinking about it, and I know that if we get up to our room I'll have trouble stopping myself."
Baz nodded with understanding and withdrew his fingers from my hair.
Now, two weeks later, his fingers twine back into my hair as he slowly explores my mouth with his tongue. I melt into the folding bed below us and slip my hands under the hem of his button down.
Baz pulls away suddenly and looks at me with a smirk. "What was it that you wanted to do to me in our room?" He sees my eyes widen in surprise. "Come on," he murmers gently but teasingly, "give me something to think about alone in my bed tonight."
I can't possibly tell him. I'd die of embarrassment. But the idea of him in his bed, thinking about me and touching himself...
"I wanted to go down on you," I blurt inelegantly. "I knew that if I went back to Mummer's with you, I'd be on my knees pulling your belt off as soon as we were in the door."
"Crowley," he groans and rolls next to me on the tiny bed. "I would not have been ready for that." He glances at me shyly. "I might still not be ready for that."
I nod and grip his hand. "Yeah, me either."
Chapter 2: The Text
"Shouldn't Baz be helping you with this?"
Penny and I are walking into the Ikea showroom to look at beds. I woke up this morning with such an awful pain in my back that Penny rolled her eyes and dragged me to the tube station.
"He's not my roommate anymore, you are. I'd rather have your help."
Penny doesn't say anything, but she looks at me like she understands. Which is good, because I don't. Understand, that is.
I actually thought about asking Baz to join me, but the idea set off alarm bells in my mind, so I stopped thinking about it.
I probably should talk about that with my therapist.
I also woke up to a text from Baz. One that makes me blush to think about.
He said he was thinking about what I'd said. About what I wanted to do to him.
Oh, Merlin. I was too scared to respond. I still haven't, which might further prove what a terrible boyfriend I am.
I think about telling Penny that I'm spooked by the idea of answering Baz's text, but I'm not sure if our "no secrets" pact extends to explicit texts.
"I love the color of this one," she says as she flops down onto a couch. She grimaces. "It's not very comfortable, though."
"Don't we already have a couch?" I sit next to her. "I seem to remember carrying a very heavy couch up the stairs recently."
"Yes, of course. But this is part of the Ikea experience." She waves her hand all around the showroom. I don't really know what the Ikea experience is supposed to be like; I've never been here before.
This is nice, though. Spending time with Penny, I mean. Even if I'm a bit distracted.
"Penny?" I ask, and then hesitate. She turns to me and raises her eyebrows. "Can I get your help with something?"
"You mean something aside from helping you pick out a grown up bed? What is it?"
I know she's teasing, but for a moment I feel guilty about everything she's done for me already.
She must see the guilt on my face. "Simon, I'm kidding. You know I'll help you."
"It's about... I don't know what to... Um." The guilt has frazzled me and I forget how to use my words. "Just. Here." I hand her my phone, open to Baz's text.
Penny's brow furrows as she examines my phone, and then her eyebrows shoot up as she comprehends.
"When did he send this? You haven't responded."
I silently thank her for not telling me to piss off. Her expression shifts from shocked amusement to "tutoring Simon in Greek," and I can tell that she's silently telling me not to mention it.
Or she's wondering if Ikea sells whiteboards. I can almost see "what we know" materialize in front of her face.
I rub my face and groan. "Last night. After I already fell asleep. And no, I haven't responded."
"Do you," she gestures vaguely at me, then at the phone still in her hand, "want to encourage more of this? Because if you don't reply he might not do it again."
"I don't know! I mean, yes, but I'm nervous. I'm not sure what to say to him."
Penny stands and extends her hand. "Come on, Simon. Let's go eat some meatballs and test out the mattresses. We'll get this sorted."
I'm trying not to die of embarrassment. And when it feels like I'm failing at that, I just try not to obsessively check my phone.
I know he read the message. It seemed like such a good idea to send it last night. Late last night in my warm bed, thinking about Simon, thinking about him touching me...
Crowley. I am actually going to spontaneously combust.
"I just think you should at least consider the king sized mattress." Penny stands, hands on her hips, next to the double I'm sprawled across.
"Why? That sounds so big."
"Look at you! Your feet are close to hanging off the edge! You have to remember that Baz is taller than you, so it'll be an even bigger problem for him."
I sit up and glare. "It's my bed, why does it matter if Baz fits in it?" My therapist would say I'm being defensive. I feel bad, and soften my gaze.
"Simon, I just helped you brainstorm how to sext your boyfriend. I think it's not far fetched to imagine he might make it into your bed someday."
I sink back down onto the edge of the bed. "I know. Buying a king sized mattress just sounds so... sex-crazed. It makes me feel like I'm trying to get him into bed with me."
"You kind of are," Penny points out. "But just say you need the extra space for your... extra parts." She means my wings, obviously, but the other shoppers are looking at me like I must have an extra set of bollocks that require their own share of the bed.
"Penny," I hiss. "Keep it down, yeah?" I can tell by her smirk that I'm blushing. "And anyway, your brainstorming session didn't really help, did it?"
"It's not my fault you didn't want to use any of my suggestions!"
"Penny," I start, then pull her down next to me and lower my voice. "I don't think you can assume that all blokes like hearing so much about their balls. I think that might just be a Micah thing."
"You tell me, you're a bloke." She's saying it way too loud and I want to crawl under this bed.
"Yes, but I don't exactly count, do I?" I rub my hand across my face. I hadn't meant to say that, and now I don't want Penny to look at me.
"Simon." She pulls my hand away from my face. "What do you mean?"
"I just..." I sigh and look her in the eye. "I've never wanted... all this before." I gesture to the bed and my phone in my hand and hope she understands without me having to say it.
"Modern technology and flat pack furniture?"
"No!" Penny just looks at me blankly. She's not going to make this easy. I sigh and look at my hands in my lap. "It's sex. I've never wanted sex like this before."
"Like what?" If it were anyone else, I'd think she was being obtuse on purpose. I know she's not though. She wants me to explain myself. I don't know if I can.
"Give me your phone." I don't ask why, and hand it to her. She types something quickly and hands it back. I look to see what she wrote.
"Having sushi tonight with Penny. Join us after you eat; we'll stay and drink sake together. Place across from flat, 7p"
The phone chimes as I look at it. "For fuck's sake Bunce, stop impersonating Snow."
Penny grins at me. "Now let's go buy you a giant sex mattress, you randy freak."
I can tell Simon's a little drunk when he kisses me. We don't kiss in front of people, but he's pressing an open mouth kiss against my lips, and his mouth tastes sweet and warm.
I want to melt into this kiss, but Bunce is watching and I have a reputation to maintain.
I pull away from where I'm bent over his chair. He pulled my face down to his as soon as I walked up to the table. I'm trying not to swoon at the completely disrespectful man-handling.
"Baz." He grins at me stupidly as I take a seat. "Would you like some sake?"
I turn to Bunce. "Did you get my boyfriend drunk?"
"Well obviously not on purpose. I just wanted to help him relax, but apparently he's never had a drink before. And he's really bad at it."
"I'm not actually that drunk, you guys." He leans closer to me, and I'm pretty sure he thinks he's whispering this next part. "I'm really sorry I didn't respond to your text. I was a little freaked out."
He's talking too loud and being overly affectionate, and I want him to stop talking about my text in public. Or at all.
Penny nudges a sake cup to me and raises an eyebrow. I nod, and she pours for me.
"Baz, I learned that it's bad luck to pour your own sake. You have to get someone else to do it for you." Simon is a regular font of information tonight.
"Who's been pouring for you, then?"
"Well, after Penny stopped I decided I can handle a bit of bad luck."
My head feels fuzzy. I don't know if it's the wine or Baz letting me press him against the inside of my front door.
"I'm literally standing right here! Your room is five steps away!" Penny is frustrated, but I know she's happy for me. She told me at dinner.
I pull back from where I've been nosing against Baz's neck. "Can we talk in my room?"
Baz smirks at me. "Sure, let's go talk." He's putting emphasis on "talk." How dare he see through me like that.
I do want to talk. Penny and I even worked out discussion points. There's a list. But none of that seems important right now.
Oh. This certainly isn't talking.
I think we were actually trying to talk at first, but now I'm sitting on the floor next to Simon's folding bed and he's over me, knees bracketing my hips and hands in my hair.
I've got Simon in my lap and his tongue in my mouth. Crowley. I could die like this.
Now he's rocking his hips against me and making little noises into my mouth. Fuck.
Fuck. We should stop.
I don't want to.
My body craves this and I want to stop thinking and let instinct drive my hips into Baz again and again until I'm finally satisfied.
I think he might let me.
Merlin, I don't think I can handle this.
"Baz," I murmer against his lips. "Baz, I want to stop doing this."
"Then get off of me." He pulls his face away from mine and makes sure I can see him rolls his eyes, but he also gently pushes my hips away from him and stills them with strong hands.
Simon pauses a moment to catch his breath and then climbs off my lap to sit next to me.
"When will I be ready for this?" He sounds defeated. I want to kiss him but I don't think that would help.
I shrug. "Doesn't matter when. Just matters that it's not right now." He frowns. "Hey, it's alright, love. Really."
I take his hand. Back in familiar territory. We sit in silence a moment, and he plays with our intertwined fingers.
"Snow," I hesitate, but he looks at me expectantly. "Do you ever... Do you wank?"
"Everybody wanks, Baz." He's embarrassed and defensive, and saying yes without actually admitting to it.
I snort. "I know that, but I figured if anyone were too virtuous to get himself off it might be Simon bloody Snow."
I worry for a second that I've struck a nerve and that we'll fight. I think he's thinking the same, but then the moment passes and he's laughing into my shoulder.
"Why, though?" He asks when he's caught his breath again.
"I just want to know how bad I should feel for trying to rile you up."
"Sod off, you wanker!" He's grinning at me. I'm not sure if he's more proud of his joke or his flirting.
He looks back down at our intertwined hands. "Do you? You know..."
"Yeah, I do."
"What, are you asking for an itemized list?"
"No! I just mean... When did you last?" He's blushing like mad. "Is it OK that I want to know that?"
Baz drops my hand and turns his body to look squarely at me. "OK, just to be clear, you don't get to have any ownership over my masturbatory habits. I'll tell you now because the thought of you knowing gets me incredibly hot, but I might change my mind."
I nod solemnly.
He relaxes next to me again. "I took a shower just before I came out to meet you tonight..."
"Oh!" I don't know why I'm surprised. "And you... Why?"
"Don't ask why. I don't like that."
"Sorry! I won't."
He looks at me critically and then continues. I think he's going to tell me anyway. "I'm always a little keyed up when I know I'm going to see you. And knowing that you've been kind of keyed up about me made it worse. And I was still thinking about the text I sent you, but I was kind of embarrassed and angry that you showed it to Penny." He smirks at me. "It was a confusing wank. But it was really hot."
Now I'm imagining Baz in the shower, angrily getting himself off. Fuck.
Simon looks lost in thought. "This is kind of... new for me," he says slowly.
"What is? Talking about wanking?"
"Thinking about wanking." He looks cautiously at me. "Baz, I think I've been kind of repressed."
I roll my eyes, but then bump my shoulder gently into his. "You're not used to being horny."
He laughs. "I guess not."
"I'm still not sure. But it was something you said at the leaver's ball. I'm still figuring it out."
"Are you going to have a wank when I leave for the night?"
I guess he deserves an answer after being honest with me. "Yeah."
He smirks at me. "Let's go see if Bunce wants to watch a movie together. I'll be here for a while yet."
I went back and forth on Simon being demisexual or just sexually repressed. I ended up writing him as repressed, but I want to clarify that's not what I think of demisexuals or asexuals. No shade, you funky little ace spectrum people.
Also, I know that not everyone wanks, but Simon doesn't know that.
Chapter 4: The Car
"This bed is ridiculous."
"I know! Look, I can lay sideways across it."
I lift my head from where I'm sprawled out and grin as Penny flops facedown onto the bed. She shifts until her her head is next to mine.
"Are you glad I talked you into this one?"
"It'll do, I suppose." I'm still smiling, so I know she knows I'm well pleased.
"Any progress on getting Baz to help test it out?"
"Speak of the devil." She's glancing past me to my phone on the nightstand. "He's texting you."
I blush and try not to look too eager as I launch myself upright to grab my phone.
"I'll leave you to your sexting."
"It's not sexting!" I say without looking up.
"Hi, love. What are you up to?"
I smile to myself and type a quick response.
"Nothing much. New bed delivered today. Wanna come over?"
I know he's panicking a little. I can tell by the three dots that keep appearing and disappearing. I'm alright with tormenting him a little. He certainly has been tormenting me quite a bit lately.
Evidently he's given up on coherently responding via text, because my phone rings.
"Hey," I answer with my voice low and gentle.
"You alright, Baz?"
"Yeah! Yes. I just wanted to know if you, um, wanted to go for, um, a drive with me." Merlin, he sounds nervous. I've never known Baz to stammer.
"Are you asking me on a date?" I've never been asked on a date before.
"I suppose? I don't want you to expect anything too elaborate. I just want to go for a drive to clear my head, and would like your company." Ah, so it's not a date. It's a good thing we already sorted out the boyfriend formalities.
"I'd love to, darling." I hear Baz's breath hitch. I figured out a few days ago that pet names evoke that reaction from him, and it gives me a thrill.
"I'll be by your place in an hour, then." The bravado has returned to his voice. I smirk to myself. There's my Baz.
I'm sitting on the edge of the tub and watching Simon shave for his date. He's concentrating as he stares at his reflection. Even though I'm pretty sure he's been shaving for years, he still seems to have difficulty with it. I'm not sure why.
When Simon was at his worst, I helped him shave. I didn't think it was that difficult, but I suppose it wasn't my throat under the blade.
It was right after Christmas. Baz hadn't gone back to Watford yet, but we hadn't seen him since his parents took him home.
Simon wasn't getting out of bed. My mum put the camping cot at the foot of my bed because he couldn't bear to be alone, but he also couldn't bear to talk or look anyone in the eye.
"Simon? Baz called. He wants to see you." I sat next to the cot and brushed Simon's hair out of his eyes.
Simon looked blankly at me, then slowly sat up.
"Pen, I need to get cleaned up before he comes over." I nodded, and started to turn away to call Baz back, when Simon reached out to still my arm.
"Penny." He was looking me in the eye. I knew it must have been important, so I stared back patiently. "I don't want to look a complete mess. Baz is-- he's..."
I waited, but Simon didn't continue. "What is it, Simon?"
He looked down at his hands. "Baz is my boyfriend." His eyes darted towards mine and then quickly away.
I paused, wondering how Simon wanted me to react. "That actually makes a lot of sense."
Some of the tension ran out of Simon's face. "Could you help me get ready?"
And that's how I found myself learning how to shave a man's face. I also pushed him into the shower, and helped him dress, and combed his hair. All so he could make a good impression for Baz.
Penny's watching me shave, but I try not to let it make me nervous. I'm eternally grateful for how she's taken care of me these months, but I inwardly cringe when I think of how helpless I was for such a long time.
"You've missed a spot." She leans forward to point at a spot on my neck.
"Penny, I've got it." I'm irritated.
"What will you wear for your date?"
"Penny!" I slam down my razor on the counter. I see her wince when it breaks. "I don't need your help. Just leave me alone!"
I regret it as soon as I say it. "Pen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
She's already out the bathroom door. "Piss off, Simon." She leans back into the bathroom and softens her gaze. "I know you're sorry, and you're sorting through things. I just need to be angry with you a while."
I nod. Penny's anger with me is almost reassuring after feeling like delicate glass for so long.
"Enjoy your date. Tell Baz I said hi." Before I can answer, she's slammed the door to her room.
Before I can park and come to the door like a gentleman, Simon is already climbing into the car as it idles in the street.
"Yeah," he says distractedly. "Let's go."
I can tell something is wrong, but I don't push it. I pull away from the curb and start driving.
"Penny says hi."
"Where are we going?"
I'm not really sure where I want to go, just that I want to get out of the city. Somewhere quiet, where we can be alone. Somewhere that is not the giant new bed in Simon's room.
I can't tell him that, though. "I just want to drive out of city. We can get a meal while we're out."
Simon smiles and takes my hand. I let him, for a moment, then reluctantly pull away. "I need that hand for the gearshift."
"Oh! Sorry!" I glance at him. He's blushing.
We're both silent for a long time. He's staring out the window as the blocks spread out under the setting sun. Crowley, this city goes on forever. I'm itching to get into the countryside.
By the time we do, the sun has set.
"Who's car is this, anyway?" He asks, breaking the long silence.
"Hmm? Oh, it's Fiona's MG. Beautiful, isn't it? She said I could drive it while she's out of the country." (Actually what she said was "Don't you dare shag in my fucking car, Basilton." My face flushes at the memory. I don't even see how I could shag in this tiny car.)
"Mm." Snow is obviously not as impressed by beautiful cars as I am.
More silence. He eventually speaks again. "Penny's angry with me."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Baz pulls the car to the edge of the road and cuts the engine. He turns and looks at me expectantly. I know he's just itching to tell me, "Use your words, Snow." But he doesn't. Thank magic for that.
"I just... I lost my patience with her."
"I can't imagine what that must be like," he drawls sarcastically.
I roll my eyes at him. "Shut it, you arse."
He looks at me carefully for a moment, his expression softening.
Then all at once he's reaching for my face with his left hand and launching himself towards my side of the car.
Or he tries to. He's still in his seat belt and it holds him in place. "Fuck!"
When I laugh he shrinks away from me and looks determinedly out the window.
"Baz! Love, I'm sorry for laughing."
I just want to die and melt into this car. Life would be simpler as part of a gorgeous car.
"Darling." He's pulling out all the stops to get me to look at him. I won't do it though.
I hear his seat belt click open, and then he reaches for mine. I let it retract across my body when he unfastens it. He's leaning across the center console and gently touches my face.
I turn towards him because I'm weak.
His smile is gentle and lopsided. I melt. "Come here," he murmers.
Baz lets me pull him gently towards me to kiss him. It's awkward; I'm leaning over the center console, and the gearshift is digging into my gut.
It's a slow, sweet kiss. I run my tongue messily against his bottom lip. Fuck sweet.
I pull at Baz's belt loops as I move away from his mouth. "Come here," I whine, and tug again for emphasis.
Baz's eyes grow wide and then he's scrambling out of his seat. His feet get caught on the steering wheel and he flops onto me. We both laugh, out of breath.
I push and pull at him until he's sideways across my lap with his long legs on the driver's seat. "Hi." I smirk at him.
He grins back, and then my hands are in his hair pulling him into me.
I'm sat on Simon's lap, and his hands are absolutely roving across my body. I whimper into his mouth as he rubs my stomach.
He settles his hand on my left hip, letting his thumb caress the crease between my hip and my thigh through my trousers. I gasp and pull back.
"Above the belt, Snow. Fiona will stake me if I let anyone come in her car."
Simon's eyes widen in horror and he pulls his hands back like I'd burned him. "I wasn't-- I'm not trying to--"
Shit. Absolute fucking shit. Why the fuck did I say that?
He stares at me wordlessly, and then starts laughing. "Jesus fucking Christ, Baz. What do you mean, 'Anyone'? Do you have other boyfriends begging to come in your aunt's car?"
He buries his face in my neck and twists his hands into my hair again. "It's alright, love. I don't mind that you have absolutely no chill."
I start to pull away, but he grips me closer. "Let's go get you some food," I say, and start to shift off his lap.
"In a minute." He smiles at me and pulls my face back down to his.
Crowley. I still might actually melt into this car.
Chapter 5: The Couch
I can't decide if it was an excellent idea to let Simon lure me into his room, or an awful one.
Of course we're tangled together on his bed. And of course his hand is creeping up the front of my shirt.
The snogging is slower, more languid this time. I think he might be tired. Or cautious? It certainly isn't stopping the movement of his hand, regardless.
This feels important. Like, whatever we do together right now in my bed will determine how fast we'll move with the rest. With sex.
I don't want to get it wrong.
"There's no right answer, Simon," Penny told me earlier tonight when I confided in her. That made me feel better, at least until I was pulling Baz into my room and she yelled from the couch, "Enjoy the new bed!"
I want to go slow. So I kiss Baz almost painfully slowly, and rub his stomach delicately. He's letting me set the pace, and I'm grateful.
I'm surprised when Baz stumbles out of Simon's room much later.
His eyes are bleary, and he stares at me a moment like he's not sure where he is. Must have just woken up.
"Bunce." He scrubs his hand across his face. He's got creases from the bed linens pressed into his cheek. "What time is it?"
I look down at my laptop. "Just past one." I pat the couch cushion next to me and tilt my head.
Baz considers me, and the offered seat, and then strides over. "Why are you still up?"
"Phone sex with Micah."
Baz pauses as he reaches the couch and looks horrified.
"I'm kidding! Sit, I promise I don't have cooties." He raises an eyebrow, but settles on the couch. "It was Skype sex, actually." Baz's eyes shoot wide and he gawps at me. "Kidding again!"
"I swear to Merlin, Bunce..." but his threat fades before he can finish it.
I'm not used to Baz like this. Sharp edges blunted by sleep. And maybe by whatever he and Simon got up to. His hair is thoroughly mussed, and his shirt is rumpled and hanging open at the neck.
I lean closer. "Is that," I point at a spot over his collarbone, "a hickey?"
Blood rises in Baz's face (at least a little) and he clutches his shirt closed at the collar. "I have no idea what you're talking about." He starts redoing the buttons and subtly looking around for a mirror.
"You are absolutely itching to look at it, aren't you?"
He's about to deny it, but I cut him off. "Go look, I promise I won't tease."
He avoids my eye, but gets up and heads to the bathroom. I can just see his back through the open door as he leans closer to the mirror to appraise the mark.
When he returns to the couch he's avoiding my gaze, and seems oddly proud and embarrassed.
"Baz, is that your first hickey?"
He flushes again but nods. "I didn't think I could get them."
"I'm so delighted I could be a part of this milestone for you."
"Shut up, Bunce." He's trying to be malicious, but his grin is ruining the effect.
I consider him a moment. "When are you going to start calling me Penny?"
He looks surprised by the question. "I'm barely on a first name basis with my own boyfriend."
"Yeah, why is that?"
He rubs his neck while he searches for an answer. "If I use your first names too much, how will you know when I'm trying to be kind?"
I look at him skeptically. "The kindness might be a clue."
"Doubtful. I'm not very kind."
I snort. "Are we the type of friends who can ask each other what we got up to with our boyfriends?"
He looks at me icily. "I don't know, Bunce. Try asking and we'll find out."
"What did you and Simon get up to tonight?"
He gives me a long, indecipherable look. "We snogged, he gave me a hickey, and we fell asleep."
"So you still haven't--"
"Do you want--"
"I don't know."
We sit in silence a moment.
"Can I tell you something, Basilton?"
"I don't know, can you?" He sneers at me. Ah, now he's more awake.
"The first time Micah and I..."
"The first time we were intimate, I wasn't as ready as I probably should have been." Baz stares at me wordlessly. "I mean, we were long distance, still are, obviously. So it felt like we had to do it then, or we'd be wasting a chance."
"I don't really see how this applies to me and Simon--"
"My point is that I'd wanted the idea of it for so long that I felt obligated. You know, when the opportunity presented itself."
Baz considers me carefully. "Did Snow tell you how long I've wanted him?"
I snort. "Honestly, I don't think he even realizes how long you've wanted him."
"But you do?"
"I have a guess, yes."
We're quiet again for a moment.
"Whenever we..." Baz starts slowly, "...get close to... um. He stops. And it's all about how he's not ready. Which is fine! Obviously." He looks at me warily and I nod. I've not seen Baz flustered like this. He continues. "I just worry... that when he finally is ready, it won't matter if I am. Because I should be happy to get anything."
I nod. "Exactly."
"No, not exactly. It's not the same thing!"
"You want sex, and have done for a while. Eventually, sex will be available to you, and you'll feel obligated. Since you wanted it in the first place."
Baz sighs. "Was it really that bad?"
I consider. "Well, it wasn't that it was exactly bad. I mean, the sex was. Bad, I mean. The first time. But Micah was the right person. It's complicated."
Baz stretches his legs out in front of him and stares at his stockinged feet. I stare too; I'm not used to seeing Baz in his socks.
"I just mean," I go on. "It's alright to have complicated feelings."
He considers me a moment. "Thank you, Penelope."
I climb back into bed with Simon. I hadn't meant to fall asleep here, but it seems silly to go home now. He's on his side, drooling on his pillow. His wings have come unspelled in the night, and spread across the bed behind him.
I smirk to myself as I remember his panic earlier in the night, when I'd raised an eyebrow at the size of the bed. "It's for my wings!"
I turn my back and nestle into his sleeping arms. No one needs to know that I'm the little spoon. I pull the blanket around us, and let myself drift off. We'll figure this out.
Chapter 6: Game Night
This is where the higher rating comes in, so be warned.
Simon is leaning against the open doorframe when I reach the top of the stairs. He must have seen me on the sidewalk. Or he sensed the takeaway I'm carrying, the hungry git.
"Hey," I say. As I get closer his eyes flick down to my neck. The mark there. The mark he gave me.
Something warm slips down my spine when I think of his mouth on my skin.
I take a deep, steadying breath just as I reach the door and lean into him for a quick kiss.
It's not a quick kiss.
"Oi! Mind the curry!"
I jolt back and flush. Bunce smirks at me as she reaches between me and Snow for the takeaway bags. I forgot for a moment that I was holding them.
Simon has still got his fingers tangled in my collar and is looking at me dumbly. I want to kiss him again.
"Close the door, boys, before the neighbors complain!" Penny's in the kitchen now, calling over her shoulder.
Simon smiles sheepishly at me and withdraws his fingers from my shirt before he closes the door. "Hi."
Suddenly we both seem so shy, like we weren't just snogging in the hallway a moment ago.
I take a moment to gather myself, turning away to shrug out of my jacket. I glance back at Simon, and then follow Bunce into the kitchen.
"So what game are we playing tonight, Bunce?" Tonight's game night was her idea.
"I think you mean, which game are you going to lose tonight, Basilton."
Simon laughs. "She's been like this all day, Baz. You're only here because she's tired of beating me at all the two player games we have. We need a third so she can annihilate me in new ways."
Bunce rolls her eyes and hands me a plate.
I take it and start piling it with food. "How do you know Snow and I won't just join forces against you?"
"Because I know you both have principles," she says as she looks at me seriously.
"I'm pretty sure I don't." I lock eyes with Simon. "How about you, Snow? Have you got principles?"
Oh. Baz is looking at me and I forget to breathe.
I want all this to happen right now. I've got a plate full of food in my hand and Penny is pointing a beer at me, but all I can do is want.
"Baz, can I talk to you a moment? In my room?" He looks surprised but puts his plate and his freshly opened beer down on the counter. I put my plate down too and start pulling him into my room.
"What about the game? Shall I set up Catan?"
"That sounds fine, Pen!" I push my door closed and take a deep breath.
Baz is looking at me expectantly. "What's up?"
Oh Crowley. I can't just say what I want. I avoid his gaze.
I'm going to combust if I don't have him right now.
I smash my face into his and press him into the door. He kisses back eagerly. I want to touch him all over, but I manage to direct my shaking hands to his belt buckle. He gasps into my mouth as I start to fumble with the clasp.
Oh god oh god oh god . What am I doing?
I pull my lips away from Baz's and he tries to follow. I press a hand to his chest to stop him. We lock eyes, and I realize my whole body is shaking. I take a deep, shuddering breath and slowly sink down to my knees.
Merlin, Morgana, and Methuselah, this is actually happening.
Simon is fumbling with my belt. He finally gets it loose and moves on to the button on my trousers. Jesus fucking christ.
He pulls back to look at me, his fingers pressed against the zipper. "Is this alright?"
I can't speak. I try, but nothing happens. So I nod my head vigorously.
I'm still getting the game board set up when I hear it. A muffled, "bloody hell" and then a thud against Simon's door.
I'm surprised by the thoughts that flit through my head.
I should tell my therapist about this.
This is well gay.
I wonder if the curry's gone cold.
I've got a bloke's dick in my mouth.
Not just any bloke. Baz.
I really don't know what I'm doing, but I move my mouth and my tongue up and down trying to chase a reaction from him.
Simon is absolute shit at giving head.
I'm trying to decide whether I should take hold of his hair and direct him, or if that would be rude.
And my heart swells with affection at how bloody awful he is at this. I must be completely stupid in love.
I'm never going to come from this.
Baz tugs gently at my hair. "Simon," he says. "Love, come here."
I pull back and look at him. I'm overwhelmed by the look on his face.
"I'm in love with you." My breath catches as soon as the words are out of my mouth. My fingers are pressed against his hips, and his dick is inches from my mouth, wet with my saliva. This wasn't the right time.
Baz's eyes widen down at me. "Come here," he repeats, and pulls me to my feet.
I'm considering giving up on game night and retreating to my room when Simon stumbles out of his room and quickly closes the door behind him. He startles when he sees me, like I wasn't right here when he dragged his boyfriend away for a quickie 5 minutes ago.
He's blushing. He nods, then goes to the kitchen to retrieve his plate. He comes to the table with Baz's open beer and starts drinking it.
"What's up with Basil?"
"Nothing!" He very nearly spills his purloined beer.
I smirk at him. "What color do you want? Red?" Simon likes to play red.
"Hm?" He looks down at the set up Catan board. "Oh! Sure, red's great."
We sit in silence a moment.
"Penny..." He looks at me and then his eyes dart away.
I raise my eyebrows at him and wait.
"I just... told Baz that I'm in love with him."
"That is absolutely not what you were doing in there."
Simon's face turns bright red. He sputters, "Well, not just that!"
I laugh and pat his arm. "It's alright Simon."
We sit in silence and eat our curry. I'm honestly a little surprised Simon didn't tell me he was in love with Baz. I mean, I've guessed as much. Still, I'm surprised. "How long have you known?"
"That you're in love?" I can't help giving him a why are you so daft look.
"I... um. Didn't realize until I said it."
"Simon! How is that possible?"
Before he can answer, Baz is emerging from Simon's room. "Bunce. Snow." He nods at us and disappears into the kitchen to grab his plate of food.
I sit down next to Simon and narrow my eyes as I grab my stolen beer out of his hand. I take a swig and put it down between us. I honestly don't mind sharing. I scoot my chair closer to him and rest a hand on his thigh.
Simon is in love with me.
I snogged him right good when he said it, but I still haven't said it back. He must already know.
After I kissed him like mad and refastened my trousers, I sent him back out to Penny ("Let's not be rude, Snow.") and asked for a moment alone to collect myself.
In this instance "collecting myself" meant wanking in Simon's bed with my face pressed into a shirt from his hamper.
Judging by the pink spreading across his cheeks, I think he might know that, too.
Chapter 7: Competition
More M content in this chapter, so watch out.
I don't know how Baz can be so calm right now.
He's joking with Penny and blocking her roads in the game, and I think he's probably winning. All while gently running his fingers along my thigh.
I can barely remember how to play this game.
"Simon, have you got wood?"
"What?!" I nearly fall out of my chair.
Penny glances at Baz, and then they both start laughing. "You know, for a trade? I'll give you some sheep. Why, what did you think I meant?" She raises an eyebrow suggestively.
I feel my face turn red. "Oh! Uh, sure."
"Really, Snow. That's an awful exchange on your part. You've hardly built any roads. And what are you going to do with Bunce's cast off sheep?"
Penny glares at Baz. "Quiet, you!"
I win, of course. It helps that I have a clearer head than Simon right now. He is absolutely agitated, and it's delightful.
I suppose it was somewhat unfair of me to send him back out to the living room unsatisfied while I got myself off alone in his room. But I've learned two important things about myself.
First, I become a right terror when I'm sexually frustrated. The hell that was Simon following me around and interrupting my wanking all of fifth year is a testament to that.
Second, I don't know how to get off with another person.
"Shall we have a rematch?" Penny can't stand losing to me.
"Maybe later." I grab Snow's hand. "Let's go to your room, Simon." I don't even try to pretend my intentions are innocent. My recent orgasm has made me bold.
Penny rolls her eyes and groans. "Go! I don't want to know!"
I'm honestly a bit confused as I follow Baz into my room. An hour ago I tried to suck him off and he stopped me. And then I told him I was in love with him and he didn't say anything. Now he's oddly chipper and I really don't know what to think.
"Baz." I lean against the closed door and look down at my feet. "Earlier... Were you, um..."
Crowley, maybe he doesn't know.
He's clearly not about to finish his sentence, so I'm left to fill in the blanks. I sit down on the edge of the bed.
"If you're asking if I was wanking earlier, I was."
Did that sound defensive? That sounded really defensive.
"Oh." He looks strangely disappointed. "Um... why? I mean, why didn't you let me. You know."
I roll my eyes. Of course we're going to have problems talking about this. "Use your words, Snow."
Simon's eyes snap to mine and I can see his jaw tighten. He narrows his eyes at me, and I feel an electric jolt down my spine. Oh. Snow is angry, and it's giving me a thrill. Interesting.
He sets his jaw defiantly, and I feel light headed. "Why didn't you let me suck you off?"
Don't be mean don't be mean don't be mean--
"I honestly couldn't tell if you knew how." Shit. I'm obviously thinking with my dick.
I think Baz is trying to rile me up. He's clearly getting turned on by being an arse. My eyes flick down to his lap. Clearly.
I hesitate for a moment before I decide to play along.
"Like you could do better, Pitch."
Oh, it is on. "Do you need me to teach you how to give head, Snow?"
Simon pushes himself off the door and approaches the edge of the bed. I think he's going to stop there and stand over me, but he doesn't hesitate before straddling my lap.
We're pretending to fight, so I resist the urge to wrap my arms around him. (Are we pretending?) I flatten my palms against the bed next to his knees to keep myself from giving in.
Simon smirks at me, then grabs my wrists. He pulls my right hand and places it low on his back, under the hem of his shirt.
And he lifts my left hand to his face and sloppily slides my middle finger into his mouth. He locks eyes with me as he swirls his tongue around my finger before letting it slip past his lips.
Crowley, I might die.
He's still holding my wrist, and presses my palm against his jaw. My thumb rests against his lower lip, and he lets me drag his mouth open, just a little. I press my thumb into his mouth and he gives it a sharp nip. I feel an electric jolt spark from my thumb through the rest my body.
"Well? Aren't you going to teach me, Baz?" He smirks at me, my thumb still pressed against his lips. I don't know why this is so erotic, but it is.
To be honest, I know nothing about how to give a blowjob. I'm pretty sure Simon knows that, but it feels like pretending right now is the trick I need to get over myself and tell him how to get me off.
I raise an eyebrow at Simon so I can pretend I'm in any kind of control of this moment, and I push my index and middle fingers into his mouth. He groans as he swirls his tongue around and over my fingers.
Baz's eyes almost roll back in his head when I groan around his fingers. Good to know.
I know Baz is scared, and that this whole arsehole facade is helping him past it. And honestly, it's turning me on, too. I think of when we fought in school, and suddenly every memory of every altercation feels charged with lust. How did I not figure this out sooner?
I let Baz's fingers slip from my mouth with a pop and give him a dark look. "How fast do you think I can make you come?"
I can see the momentary shock on his face before he schools his expression into bored disinterest. "Bold of you to assume you can make me come, Snow."
"Challenge accepted." I wink at him and drop my hands to his lap. I start to undo his belt, and his hands join mine in working his trousers open. For as much as he's pretending not to be excited by this, he is awfully eager.
Simon slips off my lap and settles onto his knees on the floor.
I'm actually terrified that he won't be able to get me off. That I won't be able to come for him. Maybe I'm doomed to a life of lonely, desperate wanking. Maybe physical intimacy isn't something I get to have.
That thought is absolutely obliterated from my mind when he pushes my knees apart and slots himself between them. "Alright, Pitch?"
Are we still playing? I'm not even sure right now. I don't know how to answer.
"Love." He reaches up and rests his palm on my cheek. The teasing smirk has left his eyes. "Alright?" I kiss the pad of his thumb and nod.
"You'll let me know what you like?" I nod again, and hope I can make it true. He's being soft with me, even in the middle of playing at erotic antagonism.
His eyes search mine a moment, and then he drops his hand from my face and dips his head to take me into his mouth.
Baz makes a loud whining noise I've never heard him make before, and I'm so surprised I almost stop to see if he's alright. And then I remember what we're doing, and that noises like that aren't out of place. I suddenly realize that's what was missing when I tried this before; he wasn't making any noise.
I look up at his face and he's clamped a hand over his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut. I reach up and pull his hand away from his face and start moving my mouth, trying to get him to make that sound again.
Now I'm awkwardly holding onto his hand and I'm not sure what to do with it. I place it on the back of my neck, and his fingers grasp and release rhythmically, tickling the soft hairs there. I shiver at the touch.
I realize he's still silent and glance at his face again.
"Are you OK?" He's popped off and he's looking at me, his lips wet and pink, when I open my eyes.
"You're holding your breath."
I blush. "I didn't realize."
"Don't forget to breathe," he teases, and takes me back into his mouth.
I concentrate on breathing in and out slowly. This is much better than earlier tonight, but I'm not sure what's different.
Well. Now I know he's in love with me.
That's not the only difference, though.
Now he's bobbing his head and doing ridiculous things with his tongue, and I can't hold back another whining moan. Crowley, this is embarrassing.
Simon has pressed my left hand against the back of his neck, but now I'm not sure what to do with my right. I flex it and grasp at the air. I want to tangle my fingers in his hair, but I don't know if that's allowed. I think he notices my indecision, and smirks at me (as much as he can with his mouth full). He grabs my hand and places it against the side of his head.
Fucking hell. Both my hands are riding the rhythm of Simon's head bobbing up and down, and the feeling that I could grab at him and thrust up into his mouth makes me gasp. (I wouldn't.) Suddenly I'm all too aware of the coiling pleasure in my belly, and then I'm holding my breath again. Breathe! I remind myself. It'll feel better if I breathe.
I'm so close. But I can't. I can't I can't I can't.
Baz moans loudly, and then whines again. "I can't."
I pull away just enough to talk. "Can't what?"
"Baz, what needs to be different?"
"I don't-- I can't--"
"Shh, it's alright." I pull his hand out of my hair. "Show me."
I worry for a moment that he'll refuse, but then he's stroking himself and moaning. "I need-- I need to use my other hand," he gasps and pulls his left hand from where it's pressed against my neck.
I climb onto the bed behind him and wind my arm around his middle. I rub his stomach and breathe against his neck and wait for his pleasure to build. He's shaking. I kiss his neck wetly. I can feel his pulse beating wildly against my lips.
And he groans loudly and then he's coming hard.
Oh my god.
I hold Baz tightly while he catches his breath. He is gorgeous, his face flushed with his orgasm and his chest heaving. I like him like this, and he's still got all his clothes on. I giggle giddily into his shoulder.
I pull back and twist around his body to look at his face. "I told you I'd make you come." I grin at him.
"That hardly counts, Snow. I was doing all the work in the end."
"Alright, then, raise your hand if you've had two orgasms in my room in as many hours."
He blushes, and I raise an eyebrow at him until he sheepishly raises his hand.
I laugh, and pull his face into mine for a deep, joyful kiss.
I don't know for a fact that Baz is at home right now, but it's always worth the effort of sneaking up to the door of my flat in case he is. Never can miss a chance to take the piss, can I?
I slip my wand out of my sleeve and point it at the door. "Open sesame!"
The door slams open, and Baz spills his tea. "Fucking hell, Fiona!" He's alone on the couch, in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. Not at all what I expected.
It's not that I'm trying to burst in on my nephew with his bloke. But I feel obligated to tease him as much as possible. Give him a healthy fear about getting off on my bloody sofa. It's what my mum and Natasha did for me, and I'm only too happy to pass it on.
"Basilton, are you alone?" He rolls his eyes at me. "And in your jim jams on a Friday night? Why isn't your bloke entertaining you?"
"Fiona." He's got a warning tone in his voice, and he strides into the kitchen for a tea towel. I should be annoyed with him for spilling tea on my couch, but I admit it was my fault. Not out loud, of course.
Fiona watches as I dab at my spilled tea. "I thought you weren't going to be back for a while."
She shrugs. "Plans changed. Thought I'd stop by and check on you." She looks around. "And my flat." As if I would do anything to her precious flat. I roll my eyes again. It's how we communicate.
I sit back down on the couch, and Fiona flops down next to me. She leans forward and grabs my face by the chin, staring hard. "Baz. You finally got laid!"
It would be uncanny if she hadn't jokingly done the same every time she'd seen me since I told her I had a boyfriend.
Honestly, like she could tell that just from looking at my face.
But it doesn't stop me from blushing, just slightly, and avoiding her gaze.
She gasps. "Wait! You actually have?! I was just taking the piss!"
Now it's my turn to shrug. "Sort of." I can't decide if I want to talk about this with my aunt.
"When? How? Was he any good?"
"Alright!" She holds her hands up placatingly. She leans to the side of the couch and rummages in a drawer in the side table. She cocks an eyebrow at me. "Am I going to have to weigh my stash to make sure it's all here?"
"I didn't take your bloody weed!" Fiona laughs. She lives to antagonize me.
She pulls out a rolled joint and a lighter. "You mind?"
"It's your flat." I know she thinks she can get me well mashed and I'll give up my secrets. She's probably not wrong.
She lights up and takes a drag, staring at me cooly. "You can't have any."
"I'm under strict orders not to let you smoke. You're flammable, Baz." I roll my eyes. Five minutes ago I had no interest in smoking with my aunt, and now she's tricked me into being disappointed.
"Here. You can have this." She reaches back into the drawer and tosses me a tightly wrapped candy. An edible.
"Why would you think I'd want to get stoned with my aunt?" I bite at her.
"Do what you like, boyo. I just thought that if you had a better option tonight you'd be out doing it." Damn her. No matter what I do she'll feel like she's won.
I consider a moment, and then unwrap the candy and pop it in my mouth. I decide that I would like to confide in my aunt, and if I need to be mashed to do it, then so be it.
Baz looks at me skeptically as I take another drag. "I don't feel anything."
"Of course not, you knob. It takes time to get to your bloodstream when you eat it."
Baz crosses his arms and leans back into the couch. Sulking! "How long does it take?"
I shrug. "An hour? Maybe more, maybe less. Your unique physiology might react differently."
"Bloody hell, Fiona. I wish you'd told me that." He glares at me, then pulls out his phone to ignore me.
"So tell me about your mageling deflowering you."
Basilton drops his phone and splutters. "Fiona! It wasn't like that!"
Fiona laughs. "OK, so clearly it sounds like you didn't 'go all the way' yet." She uses mocking finger quotes and it makes me feel like a child.
"Shut up." I can feel the anger rising in me. I don't like to be mocked.
"Baz." She snubs her joint out and leans forward, resting her hand gently on my face. "I'm sorry, boyo. I'm just teasing."
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
"You want to tell me about it? I promise I'll be supportive."
I look at her skeptically again.
"No more teasing, I promise!"
I raise an eyebrow.
"Alright, a little teasing. But I promise I'm on your side, kiddo."
"Fine. I'll tell you."
Fiona lets her hand drop from my face, and leans back again, completely smug. "Third base, then?"
"You are making this so incredibly weird." I sigh. "But yes, third base."
"Who did who?"
Crowley. I rub my face. Maybe it would be better to confide in Bunce. But I can't imagine this conversation being any less awkward with her.
"Simon, um. He, uh..." I find I can't finish my sentence. I haven't said it out loud to anyone yet, and I'm not sure I can.
Fiona stares at me. "Do I have to guess what your bloke did to you?"
I hide my face in my hands. "I really wish you wouldn't."
"Fair enough. Are you... satisfied with whatever it was?"
My face flushes at the memory, and I try not to dwell on how satisfied I was. "Yeah."
"And did you... to him..." I gesture vaguely and hope he doesn't need me to elaborate. I want to be supportive, but I'm having trouble with the idea of my nephew fellating the mage's bloody heir.
"Not yet, no."
I'm not sure what to say to that, so we're both quiet a moment.
"Fiona..." He hesitates. "Simon told me that he's in love with me."
I scoff. "Maybe he was just trying to get into your trousers."
Baz laughs. "He was already in them at that point."
I raise an eyebrow at that. "And are you in love, boyo?"
His lips turn up in a shy smile. I know he's mad for that tit before he even opens his mouth to answer. "I am."
"Mazel tov, then. You told him that?"
Baz's face falls. "He knows." His brow furrows. "He must know."
"You absolute pillock." I cross my arms and stare him down.
"I need to go talk to him."
I pull out my phone. "I'll order you an Uber."
"Fiona, I can just take the tube." He bolts up from the couch, and almost immediately sits back down. "Oh." I know the look on his face. "I'm really high, aren't I?"
I'm watching repeats of Doctor Who on the couch with Penny when there's a knock on the door. We're not expecting anyone, so it's a surprise to find Baz on the other side of the door, wearing pajama bottoms with his jacket drawn around him. It's a strange look with his posh loafers.
"Simon." He smiles my name and leans into me for a kiss. I like him like this. All soft and affectionate and sleepy looking in his pajamas. I brush my fingers across his jaw as I kiss back, and he absolutely sighs into my mouth.
"Get a room!" I'm grateful that Penny didn't say it with magic, and I pull away quickly. She's on the couch winking at me.
I take Baz's hand and lead him to my room. "Back in a moment, Pen!"
She scoffs. "Not likely!"
I close the door and turn to Baz, but he's already pulling me to my bed. We tumble onto it, and then he's over me and kissing me sloppily.
I'm getting lost in this kiss. The room is spinning, and I can't think about anything else. I came here for a reason. But only kissing matters. Kissing, and touching.
I remember what I wanted to tell him, and I giggle into his mouth. "Simon." I say it against his lips, so it's muffled. That makes me giggle again.
He angles his face away so he can pull back and look at me. "What is it?"
"I want you so badly." He smiles and starts to pull me to him for more kissing. I want that with every part of my body, but I have to tell him the rest of the joke. I put a finger against his lips before he can press them against mine. "Also, I'm quite high right now."
Simon shifts away from me and gives me a long look. "Just a moment." And then he's out from under me, and off the bed, and out of the room.
Simon slips out of his room and closes the door quickly behind him. Nicks and Slick, he's going to try to draw me into this, isn't he?
"Penny. I have a hypothetical question for you."
Hypothetical. Sure. "Go on."
"So, if someone hypothetically were showing signs of um... interest in... sex. But, um, if that person also wasn't completely sober--"
"Simon, I think you know your answer already if you thought to come out here to ask me."
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Yeah, you're right."
"How has Basilton impaired himself?" I'm not about to pretend this is at all hypothetical.
Simon gives me a crooked smile. "He's stoned. Do you think it's alright to just snog him a bit?"
I raise an eyebrow and say nothing.
I don't actually disapprove, at least not completely. Chomsky knows, I certainly haven't been entirely sober every time I've had sex. I just think Simon needs practice making his own decisions.
He considers me a moment. "Right. Thanks, Pen." And he's slipping back into his room.
A moment later I hear a muffled moan from behind Simon's door. Great snakes, why did that moron even ask for my advice if he's just going to ignore my pointed, judging looks?
I turn up the volume on the television. I'm really going to have to talk with Baz about finding some sort of privacy spell.
Chapter 9: Vulnerability
More M content here!
Almost as soon as I've slipped back into my room and closed the door, Baz is pressed up against me and kissing my neck. Crowley, he's not making the responsible option easy.
"Baz." His kisses turn sloppy and open mouthed against my neck. "Baz!" He hums and licks a stripe from my jaw to my earlobe, which he then pulls at with his teeth. Jesus Christ.
I snake my arms over his shoulders and bury my fingers in his hair. I want to hold his face against my neck, but I also want to push him away. He presses his hands against my hips and holds tightly as he leaves sloppy open mouthed kisses along my jaw. A shudder runs down my spine, and I actually moan.
Shit, that was loud.
"Baz. Baz. Baz." I'm just mumbling his name again and again. I don't even know what I want right now.
"Hmm?" He hums against my neck again and the almost itchy feeling of wanting him, of wanting him to touch me spreads through my limbs and tingles in my scalp.
I tangle my fingers around the collar of his t-shirt and pull gently. Baz pulls back from my neck and smirks. Christ, he looks completely unspooled. In one swift motion he grabs at his shirt and pulls it over his head, then he's crashing back into me and sucking on my lower lip.
I've never seen Baz without a shirt. I mean, I really still haven't; my field of vision is nothing but his face, his dark eyelashes fluttering closed as he kisses me. I close my eyes too. Sometimes I forget, and just stare at him, pressed too close to focus my eyes. Baz always closes his eyes when we kiss.
I can't see him, but I can feel him. I slide my hands up his cool arms and across his shoulders. I trace my fingers up and down the back of his neck and listen to him whine into my mouth.
He pulls away and tugs at the hem of my shirt. A question. I nod and he pulls it up and over my head. I grasp his face in both hands and pull his mouth back down to mine. I can't get enough of his skin brushing against mine, so I slide my hands under his arms to snake around his back and pull him closer.
This is not what I meant to be doing right now. I start to pull away, letting my arms go slack, but then Baz is sliding his fingers against my belly just over the button on my jeans. "May I?" He's whispering, and his eyes are dark with his blown pupils, his lips wet and pink. He lets his fingers dip just into my trousers, and plays at the waistband of my pants. Like he's clarifying exactly what he's asking permission for.
I don't know what the thought is, but I can feel it creeping up my throat to ruin this.
I throw my arms around Baz's neck and bury my face there, tamping down whatever it is. I nod and start mouthing at his neck. I will the creeping feeling to disappate, or to blend into the itching desire crawling through me. I'm already hard, so it's not difficult. Just don't think.
Baz is fumbling with the button on my jeans, and then the zipper, and then he's shoving his hand inside my pants to stroke me. This feels so good. Stop thinking. I lick his neck and moan into his ear.
I tighten my arms around Baz's neck, and press closer to him. That gives his hand less space to work, but that's OK. It's all OK. I squeeze my eyes shut and let my hips move. I don't think about it. I just chase the feeling welling up in my gut. The good one.
Simon is digging his fingers into my skin and pulling me closer and closer, and I feel the tension building in his whole body. Maybe it's the weed, or maybe this is just what it's like, but I feel like my whole world is nothing but Simon Snow and his impending orgasm. He hasn't let me touch him like this before, so I don't have a point of comparison. Now he's moaning against my neck.
He goes still and quiet for a moment, and I wonder if he's about to come. I wouldn't be surprised if his lifetime of communal living made him fall silent when he orgasms. I tighten my free arm around his back and continue stroking.
Then I hear a broken sob pressed into my neck and I freeze.
Shit shit shit, what did I do?
I pull my hand out of Simon's pants and try to pull away to look at him, but he won't let go of his grip on my neck.
"Simon. Love, what's wrong?" He's crying into my neck and I'm starting to feel frantic. "Did I hurt you?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know what's wrong."
I feel tears pricking my eyes and suddenly I can't get enough air. I know I'm panicking. I draw in a rough breath and try to calm myself, but Simon's unrelenting grip is making me feel suddenly claustrophobic. "Simon..." And then the tears start.
Simon pulls back (finally) and looks at me. "Baz, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"
I laugh wetly and wipe at my eyes stubbornly. "Why are you crying, Snow?"
He wipes at his own eyes and smiles, just a little. "I asked you first, you tosser."
"You started crying first, wanker."
"Oi!" He's laughing through his tears, and pulls my face to his to press a gentle kiss to my lips.
I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his. "What's wrong with us?" I whisper.
I shrug. "Trauma?"
Baz pulls back and looks at me with concern. "Was this making you think of--"
"No!" I soothe him with a hand on his cheek. "I was just feeling really... vulnerable."
He avoids my gaze. "You can... you can be vulnerable with me, Simon." His eyes flick to mine. His pupils are still wide and I remember that he's high. I run my fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes and presses against my hand.
"I know. It's just... scary." He opens his eyes just enough to look through his lashes at me, still pressing into my touch. Crowley, he likes being touched like this. He's like an attention-starved cat.
Suddenly his eyes go wide and he jolts upright. "Simon. I came here to tell you." He presses his hands to my cheeks and looks at me intensely. As high as he is, I'm not sure if he's going to tell me something shocking or just call me a wanker again.
I wait, and look at him expectantly. I hope he hasn't forgotten what he came here to say.
"I'm... I'm in love with you."
My heart absolutely clenches at his words, and suddenly I'm weeping again. This is what I was missing. This is what the dark thoughts crawling up my throat were about.
Baz looks stricken. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry. Should I go? I'll go." He stoops to grab his shirt from the floor, but I stop him.
"Stop, you prat. Come here." I fold him into my arms and bury my face in his neck again. "It's good tears this time, you idiot."
I feel the tension leave his shoulders, and he wraps his arms around me.
"Baz, I love you, too."
He lets out a shuddering breath and tightens his grip on me.
Simon pulls back after a moment and wipes his eyes. "Want to try again?"
I raise an eyebrow at him. "Try what again?" Surely he can't mean--
"Getting off." My jaw drops. Apparently he can mean that.
"We don't have to--"
"I want to, though." He takes my hand and pulls me to his bed. "Do you want to, Baz?" He looks at me shyly when he says my name, his eyes red-rimmed and wet. And Crowley, I do want to. Does that make me disturbed? I nod, and he climbs into the bed, taking me with him.
We're lying facing each other, heads inches apart on a shared pillow. He hasn't stopped looking at me. "I want to be vulnerable with you, Baz." He finally shifts his gaze from mine. "Could you hold me while I get myself off?" His eyes flick to mine again. Oh. He's embarrassed.
I nod. "Can I get myself off, too?" I'm beyond the point of shyness. Or maybe I'm just high. Simon nods, and I slip my pajama bottoms down my hips.
"You went out in public without pants?" He honestly sounds more shocked by that than by my drug use.
I smirk at him. "I was already dressed for bed when an emergency came up. I had to come tell my terrible boyfriend I'm in love with him. No time for pants."
Simon laughs and slides his jeans all the way off. He looks at me and blushes, then shoves his hand down his pants.
Alright. I guess we're doing this. I start stroking myself, too, and lean forward to brush my lips against his. He gasps and I press my tongue into his mouth.
We're snogging, and moaning into each other's mouths. Crowley, and we're trying to get off. Together. It's awkward. And we're in love. Merlin and Morgana, we're in love.
I'm fairly certain I have more practice at this than Simon does, so I come first. When I'm close I pull away and open my eyes to look at his face. I want to watch his face while I get off. I expect to find his eyes clenched tight, like mine had been, but he's already looking at me. "Simon. Simon Simon Simon." And then I'm coming on his belly.
He closes his eyes and groans, and his pace speeds up. "Come here," he urges, and I wrap an arm around him. I press a kiss to his lips and close my eyes.
"Tell me when you're close?" He nods frantically and then starts snogging me again. I'm trying to decide whether I want to be kissing him or looking at his face when he comes.
"Baz!" I pull away and watch his face, his eyes clenched tight. I remember how much I liked it when he pressed his lips against my neck when we did this before, so I duck my head and feel his pulse beat against my lips.
He whines, and groans, and then he's coming, too. I whisper into his neck, "I love you, I love you, I love you," while he rides out his orgasm. My heart feels like it's about to explode.
When he's done, he wraps an arm around me and murmers, "I love you, too," against my lips.
Chapter 10: After
More M content, watch out.
Did I set out to write a smutty chapter? No. I did not.
Did it happen anyway? Yes.
Baz is asleep. I can tell by the snoring. And the drooling. Merlin, he's still bloody perfect. How is that even fair?
He fell asleep not long after we... Well, after we finished. We snogged, and cleaned up, and I got up to change into clean pants and by the time I came back to the bed he was out.
Is this a post-coital thing? Can I even really call what we did coital? I decide it doesn't matter right now, and try to stop thinking about it.
I haven't really gotten a chance to look at Baz like this. He's pulled his pyjama bottoms back up over his hips, but his shirt's still on the floor. I hover my right hand over his belly, wanting to touch the line of soft hair. He seems to like when I touch him there, but I don't know if he'd want me to while he's asleep.
Am I being creepy? I don't know. I'm already ogling him in his sleep. Is that something you're allowed to do when you're doing...whatever this is? Sex? I still don't know if this counts.
I settle my palm lightly just above his navel, and hold my breath. I don't think he'd mind if I woke him up, but I'd rather not.
He sighs quietly and shifts, but doesn't wake.
I exhale and curl my fingers under my palm to run my knuckles along his skin and the light dusting of hair. I'm regretting wrapping my arms so tightly across his shoulders earlier. I missed a chance to touch this whole span of skin.
I trail my knuckles up his front, pressing firmly enough to avoid tickling. I let my thumb rest against his sternum and splay my fingers out, watching my hand rise and fall with his breath. My hand lingers there and I feel his heartbeat steady against my fingertips.
He is so alive and doesn't even realize it.
I want to drag my lips across the expanse of his pectorals and watch him shiver. I want to bite and lick at a nipple to see what kind of noises he makes. I want to dip my tongue into his navel and trace the line of hair downward to tease him.
Crowley, when did I get this thirsty for him? I hardly recognize my own thoughts. I want I want I want.
Suddenly I want nothing more than to wake him up and have my way with him. I feel shame twist in my gut and flush across my cheeks. I can't just wake Baz up for sex. Not right after what we just did. What if he laughs me for being so needy?
At that thought I'm startled out of my shame spiral. This is Baz. Of course he'd laugh at me. He already has. The thought of his antagonism twists low in my gut and I realize it's making me hot. Christ, I want to wake him up.
"Baz." It's barely a whisper. I want him awake and looking at me, but I'm also afraid. Afraid of wanting him this badly. My hand is shaking against his chest.
I slide my knuckles back down to his belly and rub gently as I lean into his ear to whisper "Baz" again. Quieter this time. It's more a puff of air across his skin than a word.
"Mmm?" He stirs, just a little, and I pull back to look at his face, but his eyes are still closed.
"Baz, are you awake?" Clearly not.
He whines, "What?"
Simon is irritating me. "Look at me," he commands, and I've half a mind to bury my face in the pillow and make a rude gesture.
My head still feels like it's floating on a string. Crowley, I must still be high. I open one eye and glare at him. Or I try to.
My gaze slides over Simon's face, and I struggle to focus on any part. His flushed cheeks. Wide pupils. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
He's rubbing my stomach again, and I close my eyes again to enjoy it. "No, Baz, look at me." He pulls his hand away and I whine. Tosser. I open my eyes again and roll them at him.
"What do you want, Snow?"
He's looking at me so uncertainly. What must he be on about? I'm far too out of it to guess.
I'm about to say as much when he suddenly dips his head and licks my nipple. I'm surprised, and a moan slips out. Fuck. I didn't expect this to feel this good. "Fuck."
I feel my cheeks flush, just a little. Apparently I have no filter between my brain and my mouth right now.
"No, you really don't." Simon pulls back and grins at me. For fuck's sake.
He dips his head again and returns to sucking at my nipple. "Crowley, Snow." It comes out sounding so dirty. "Ready to go again already?" He groans and tips his head to catch my eye, still circling with his tongue. "You randy git." His eyes roll back a bit, and he lets them flutter closed. Interesting.
He pulls back again. "What's interesting?" Goddamn it. Simon laughs. "You're still high, aren't you?"
Baz is almost babbling and it's delightful.
He covers his face with his hands. "Don't judge me. It's Fiona's fault."
"Ah, yes, she clearly held you down and forced you off your head."
Baz rolls away from me and hides his face in the pillow, grumbling to himself.
"Baz! I'm just teasing." He ignores me. "Darling." Nothing. I wind my arm around his waist and brush my fingertips over his chest. "Want me to let you get back to sleep?" I let my thumb run over his other nipple, and smirk to myself at the muffled whine he presses into the pillow. "I can stop if I'm bothering you."
He twists away from the pillow and gives me a hard look. "Don't you fucking dare stop." He grabs my face with both hands and pulls me into an eager kiss.
He drops one hand from my face to grab my hand and press it to his chest. "Keep touching me." He says it without separating our mouths, and it comes out muffled. I trace my fingers over his chest and down across his belly while I continue kissing him. He liked me touching his nipples, so I'm teasing him by avoiding them now. The thought makes me smile against his mouth. "What is it, you tosser?" He's smiling, too.
"Nothing." I pull back from his mouth and plant a wet, open-mouthed kiss on his sternum. I press my hand over his heart and begin exploring his chest and neck with my tongue. His heart is pounding against my palm. I drag my lips close to his nipple again, and he arches his back into it and gasps, but then I move away before touching him there.
"For fuck's sake, Simon." He's breathing heavy, and it takes some of the venom out of it. There's still just enough there, though, to make my gut twist again. Merlin.
I slide down his body and press my tongue into his navel, just like I'd fantasized. He lets out a keening whine and rocks his hips up into me. Crowley, I didn't realize this would make such an impression. "D'you like that?" I lift my head and look up at his face, his eyes squeezed closed.
He opens his eyes and glares. "Shut up, shut up, shut up," he whines as he grabs my face and pushes my mouth against his belly again. So demanding. I love him like this. I smile as I lick into his navel again. His skin tastes the way he smells. Not his posh soaps, but him. I close my eyes and breathe him in.
I feel him tense under me. "Simon." I look up at him, and he looks stricken. "I'm sorry, I didn't--"
"It's alright, love." I raise myself up to hover over his face. "I know you love me." I press this last part into his mouth. He sighs into my mouth and combs his fingers into my hair.
I pull away and lean over his body to lick his other nipple, the one I haven't put my mouth on yet. His fingers scrabble at my hair and pull gently. I'm pressing my weight chest to belly against him now, freeing the arm that was holding me up. I snake my hand between our bodies and tease his unattended nipple.
I pull at his pyjama bottoms just enough to expose the crease of his hip. I rub with my thumb at the place where his hip bone juts out. I draw my lips away from his chest and crawl down to nip at his hipbone.
Simon is sucking and biting a hickey onto my hip, and my head is spinning. My body is a taught string ready to vibrate with friction, and good lord this room is spinning.
I want him to do so many dirty things to me. Simon chuckles against my hip. Did I say that out loud again?
"I want you to finger me." Simon stops. Lifts his head. And just looks at me. Shit. I said that out loud.
"Baz, I'd love to, but I think we should talk about it when you're sober, yeah?"
My face is burning. I am so beyond embarrassed.
"Love." He's pressing a hand against my sternum, steadying me. "You don't need to be embarrassed." He gives a gentle kiss to the bruise he's sucked onto my hip. Then he's trailing light kisses to my navel again and licking just below it. His fingers play at my waist band. "You want me to?" He's being vague but oh so clear and I nod impatiently.
When Simon did this before, it was overwhelming. But now I can't focus on any other sensation. My world is a flood of pleasure and I can't see or hear or think anything else. I think I'm talking or whining or moaning but I'm not sure. I'm tugging at his hair, no self consciousness this time about grasping his head with both hands. He's moaning against me (I feel it more than hear it) and I'm pretty sure he's touching himself, too.
Baz is really babbling this time and pulling my hair, and I almost can't help it when I come hard in my hand. I try not to let it break my rhythm (he seems so close) but I can't stop myself from stuttering, for just a beat. I groan against him and manage to pick the rhythm back up while I ride out my orgasm.
He's making a whining noise and suddenly he's spurting into my mouth. It startles me, but I keep going. I made him do that. Me. With my mouth. I'm not sure what else to do, so I swallow and keep moving. And he keeps moving.
After a moment he tightens his grip on my hair and whispers "stop stop stop stop" and I do.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Simon." He hooks his arms under mine and pulls me level with his face. "You made me come." He kisses me, and I wonder if he can taste himself on my tongue. "I didn't know if I'd be able to... I was so nervous before."
I laugh and duck my head under his chin. "Go back to sleep, darling."