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[flammablepitch]

As you set your things down in the dorm, your eyes wander to the other half of the room. It looks as if he hasn't arrived yet; good. It means that you still have a reprieve, a bit more time to steel yourself for the inevitable. You begin to start unpacking your things, eyes ever wondering back to that side of the room. It was like an elephant, that side, something that really couldn't be denied and would always bring your thoughts back to him.

Quite frankly, it sucked.

It had sucked every year before this, and it would suck until they graduated - or until he killed him. Baz was sure that's how this would end, with Snow killing him after they graduated, doing precisely what his personal god wanted him to do.

And yet there was nothing you could do about it. Not until you both graduated and you were given a reprieve from this damn torture.

Comments

[fuckingtragedy]

If you're all right with that.

[flammablepitch]

I wouldn't offer otherwise, Snow.

[fuckingtragedy]

Wouldn't you like to-- You know, give it a trial run? Make quite certain you actually want me in your bed every night?

[flammablepitch]

I've wanted you in my bed for almost seven years, Snow. That hasn't changed.

[fuckingtragedy]

Oh. Well. Right, but reality. You know...

You're welcome to kick me out of your bed if it's not all you hoped and dreamed. That's all.

[BECAUSE SIMON IS A DISAPPOINTMENT.]

[flammablepitch]

I promise you, that's not going to happen.

[Best sleep he had in his life was when the two of them were on that damn couch.]

[fuckingtragedy]

It could! You might re-evaluate the first time a wing accidentally tries to suffocate you.

[flammablepitch]

I won't.

[action]

[fuckingtragedy]

[Simon's wandered into the dorm again a few moments later, carrying a pumpkin under one arm and carefully -- maybe with a minor hint of annoyance -- trying to maneuvering his wings under the door frame.]

Or I snore too loudly.

Re: [action]

[flammablepitch]

If you snored too loudly, I would have smothered you with a pillow when we were kids.

[Why is he doing this? Has he changed his mind? Did he think Baz was going to say no? It's infuriating and painful.

You let out a heavy sigh.]

Simon, do you want this?

[fuckingtragedy]

The pumpkin? No, but we need one you haven't ruined with glitter, poor things.

[Simon toes his shoes off and sets the pumpkin on the floor as he sits at the edge of Baz's bed. It's large, and who knows why Simon thought they needed on that big, but there it is. He grins, staring expectantly at Baz, presenting new pumpkin with a dramatic flourish.]

[flammablepitch]

Baz sits next to him, sighing heavily. Simon has been doing this for a bit now, avoiding things.]

I meant this, sleeping in the same bed.

[fuckingtragedy]

I already told you I want to. What's the problem?

[flammablepitch]

You keep talking like I'm going to kick you out.

[Baz turns his head, watching Simon.]

I'm not.

[fuckingtragedy]

You're welcome to, if it's not what you expected. That's all I meant.

[flammablepitch]

I expect you to snore and drool and hog the covers. I expect you to be you, Snow.

[fuckingtragedy]

Right, exactly. So if that's too much, you can tell me to get out of your bed. I won't hold it against you.

[flammablepitch]

I'm not going to. Is it so surprising that I wouldn't?

[fuckingtragedy]

[Simon stops to think for a moment.]

A bit, yes.

[flammablepitch]

[Baz's brows narrow in confusion. How was it so hard to understand that he wanted to be with Simon, that it was all he'd ever wanted?]

Why? You're the one who was straight and dating Wellbelove until fairly recently.

[fuckingtragedy]

What's that got to do with anything?

[flammablepitch]

What I'm saying is that of the two of us, you've got more of a reason to bolt. Not that I think you would.

[fuckingtragedy]

I'm not going to bolt. I just...

[Simon scrubs a hand over his face. His therapist keeps telling him to communicate. To use his words. How is he supposed to do that when he can't find them?]

I know this didn't turn out how either of us expected. And now I don't even have magic, so...

[flammablepitch]

I'm in love with you. That never had anything to do with your magic.

[fuckingtragedy]

[There it is. The L-word. And as soon as it leaves Baz's mouth, Simon's at a complete loss. Silent. Fucking mute. And he fills up the dearth of sound with an idle tapping of his fingertips against the pumpkin.

He can talk about this. He can. Just...

How?]

Look, I'm just-- I'm worried. About what any of this means. I never really made plans, you know. Because--

[Because he didn't expect to live.]

So I don't really know what I'm doing now. Or going to do. And I think-- I don't know. I feel a mess. I think you deserve better than that.