My Cup of Tea (snowbaz)

Chapter Twelve

It had been an evening of delightful and intriguing conversation. In all honesty, Baz would have preferred that the night never come to an end. He had been on good dates before, of course. He had been on dates with perfectly nice men with interesting conversation and delightful, stolen kisses. Being with Simon felt so much different than being with all of those other guys. He wasn't just interesting, just nice, just handsome, or just anything. He was everything good blended into one beautiful boy, and Baz couldn't get enough of him. Baz didn't really believe in love at first sight, because there is often a lot of darkness lurking beneath a stranger's eyes, but he fell in love with Simon after that date. After that dinner, even.

He wanted to walk him back to his flat. If he had been able to, he would have picked him up for the date himself, but he had just been too nervous and wasted too much time getting ready. Walking him back made Baz feel like he could make up for shoving Simon in an empty limo. It was hard to tell if he enjoyed the walk because he never really stopped smiling. He always looked like he was happy, which Baz found amazing since he had heard heart-wrenching stories about Simon's lonely childhood all night, so he had no idea if he was his normal happy now or happier than usual.

"Nice night," Baz said. It was true. It was a bit chilly with the wind, but the city was ablaze and hundreds of people walked from place to place under the romantic street lights.

"Yeah," Simon agreed, his eyes scanning the buildings nearby. "I love the city at night. Bit cold, though."

Baz got a wonderful, but possibly absurd, idea in his head. He looked down at his hand, noticing how close it was to Simon's. He could easily just move it an inch or so and hold Simon's hand. He had held hands with boys countless times before, but they were all comfortably out of the closet. This was Simon's first date with a guy, and Baz didn't want to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

Screw it, he thought to himself. He moved his hand slightly so it was touching Simon's. He looked to Simon for a reaction to see if he could hold his hand entirely. Simon's cheeks were painted red, but he looked like he was a good kind of nervous. Baz moved his fingers so his hand was latched onto Simon's. He took a deep breath and waited to see what Simon would do next. He wondered if he would recoil or if he would embrace the feeling of Baz's hand upon his own.

"Is this..." Baz started, gesturing to their hands, "okay?"

Simon smiled at him, his cheeks rosy and his eyes all lovely and gleaming. "Yeah," he assured. "I think you worry too much."

Baz couldn't help but laugh. "I swear I'm not normally like this. When I'm at work, I'm feared and respected. When I'm at the tennis club, I'm suave and a smooth-talker."

"So what's got you all nervous now?"

Baz shrugged. "You, I suppose. You're just...you're so different than anyone I've ever met. You're all cute and innocent. It's a nice change of pace, but it's throwing me off my game."

Simon chucked—more like giggled— at Baz. He shot him a cute, corner-of-the-mouth smile with this twinkle in his light, beautiful eyes. "Please," he said, "your game is strong. I haven't been able to stop blushing all night."

Baz liked the sound of that. He was about to say something else, though he wasn't sure what, when Simon stopped walking and quickly turned to face Baz. Baz felt his face get red under Simon's gaze.

"This is my flat," he said.

Baz looked at the building. It wasn't nearly as nice as his own flat, but it looked cute and homey. The windows weren't too big or too small and the building itself was kind of narrow and tall. Baz thought it was the perfect building for Simon. It was adorable.

"Ah," Baz sighed. He didn't know what else to say. Was he allowed to kiss Simon goodnight?

Do I lean in now or do I simply thank him for a lovely evening? I've never really—

Then he kissed me.

Baz's lips felt numb with joy.