My Cup of Tea (snowbaz)

Chapter Sixteen

Even though he was in bed, he had no intention of going to sleep. He couldn't sleep––even after a normal day––but he definitely couldn't sleep after his date with Simon. It was like his entire body was awake now. He kept replaying everything over and over again in his mind, the dinner, the walk back to Simon's flat, the kiss...and every time he went through it he felt it all over again. His big flat now seemed so empty and lonely. His uncomfortable but stylish and expensive furniture now seemed so cold and mocking. He wanted, more than anything, for Simon to be with him now. To feel him lying in the big empty bed, to feel that warmth that radiated off him. To reach out and ruffle his curls. To kiss those moles that splattered his face and neck. 

His phone rang, cutting through his thoughts. Figuring it was Dev calling again, he didn't exactly rush to pick it up. It was plugged in on his nightstand, so he took his time rolling over and checking the caller ID. When he saw that it was Simon Snow, Cute Coffeehouse Boy, he nearly screamed. He struggled to unplug the device from the charger. When he finally managed it, he swiped to answer the call and held the phone up to his ear. 

"Simon," he said breathlessly. 

There was a pause on the other end. Then a sniffle. "Baz."

It sounded cold. Baz shuddered. Did he not like the date? Was it too much? Was it me? "Are you okay?" he asked, sitting up in a comfortable position. 

"No."

Baz felt his heart break a little. "N--no? Why?"

"I came out to my flatmate tonight," Simon said. "My best friend. Penny."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Did she not––"

"She showed me an article. About Pitch Industries. About you." 

The way he said "you" was filled with hate and disdain. It made Baz sick to his stomach. "What was it about?" He got out of bed, realizing that he would probably need another cigarette for whatever this was about. It seemed important. It seemed bad. So he got up, pulling on his navy blue silk robe, and went to the living room. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and headed out to the balcony, braving the cold London air. 

"Something about letting the, uh, 'homos' go? You said that they had morally pungent ideals?"

He lit on and took a deep inhale, closing his eyes. Of course he found that article, he seethed to himself. "Repugnant," he found himself saying. He immediately hated himself for saying that. "And...yes. I suppose I did say that."

"So this was a joke then," Simon decided on the other line. Baz leaned against the railing of his balcony, looking out at the city spread before him. "The date was a joke?"

Baz sighed, unsure of what to say. "Of course not, Simon. Do you really believe that?"

Simon let out a teary laugh. "After reading that and seeing you looking all evil, I'm not sure what to believe."

"It wasn't a joke. Of course it wasn't a joke, Simon. You are--" he took a breath. "I meant what I said tonight. Everything. But the thing is that I'm two people. Not really, of course, but I'm Baz with you. That's who I am inside, who I yearn to be. At work and at school, I'm Tyrannus, the son of Malcolm Grimm. I have to be tough and cunning and smart and, well, straight."

Simon didn't say anything.

"That shit you might read in the newspapers...it isn't me. I don't even make any of that up. People write it for me because I'm not even allowed to have my own voice."

"So... what does that make me?"

Baz let out a forced chuckle. "What do you mean?"

"With us. If we...if we went out again, what would that make me? Some secret that you're ashamed to admit?" 

Baz wanted to cry. "I would never be ashamed of you. You...you are the one good thing that's happened to me in a very long time. And I'm sorry if my not being forthcoming about my father's work has jeopardized that. I thought it would protect you if you didn't know. Maybe I was just being selfish." 

Unfortunately, his involvement with his father was the reason that  most of his relationships ended. It had been fine with those random guys from the club, but he refused to allow it to end whatever he had with Simon. He was too important, too special. Damn my father, he thought. And he meant it, too. He wanted to do something about it now. He wanted to live the life that Simon believed he led--one where he was free to be Baz all the time instead of being torn between his fantasy world and the one his father controlled. 

"It was a bit selfish," Simon admitted. Baz felt his chest tighten. Is this it? "But since you were honest, and 'cos I like you so much, I'm gonna let it go. But you're on prohibition."

Baz smiled. "Probation," he corrected with a chuckle. 

He heard Simon laugh, too. "Don't push it, Tyrannus." 

"Oh, Tyrannus? Am I in trouble?

He could hear  Simon blush over the phone. "Only if you lie to me again."

"Deal. Sleep well, Simon."

"G'night, Baz."