My Cup of Tea (snowbaz)

Chapter Thirty-One

Sorry this is short! Enjoy some fluff.

Waking up with a sun-kissed Simon Snow curled around him was Baz's new way of waking up. He smiled as he watched Simon's chest rise and fall with each breath, fighting the urge to kiss the moles that surged with each heave of his chest. He'd kissed them last night. Kissed Simon last night. Kissed him so hard that he was sure that his lips had bruised, kissed him so hard that Simon now adorned small marks over his body as a reminder that last night wasn't a dream. 

"Mornin', Baz," Simon hummed, his eyes fluttering open.

"Good morning, love."

Simon beamed at him and planted a kiss on his lips. "Got anything on today?"

"Class this afternoon," Baz sighed, tracing aimless patterns up and down Simon's arms.

"Working tonight?" 

Baz shook his head. "Fortunately, no I am not. My father's going on a business trip today so I probably won't be needed until he returns."

Simon smiled at him and those blue eyes lit up in a way that made Baz's stomach swirl giddily in his stomach. "Mm, so maybe we can do this again this week." 

Baz raised an eyebrow. 

"I--shit. I didn't mean--I mean--"

Baz gave him a quick kiss, just to shut him up. "Quite fine, Snow. I'd love to go out this week. Though, I would also love a repeat of last night. If you're offering." 

Since Simon's face flushed, Baz decided that the idea was something they both were interested in. The previous night had been, a one word, magical. Baz had never had sex like that before––sex with such intimacy. He had also never been so nervous (but excited) during sex before, but Simon's adorable nervousness made him feel better.

"What time do you have to go?"

Baz checked his watch. "I should probably go in a few minutes. I need to change and grab my stuff for class."

Simon frowned as Baz pulled himself out of bed, still fully naked. Baz felt Simon's eyes on him the whole time. 

"Like what you see, Snow?"

"You know I do," Simon smiled. "I wish you didn't have to go."

"I know, but we have the whole week to go out. We can get coffee, go to the movies, go to a nice restaurant––"

"Can't do a posh meal."

Baz, who was in the middle of putting his trousers on, his back to Simon to give him a better view, turned to face the bed. "Why not?"

"Don't have a suit," Simon shrugged. 

"I'll get you a suit." 

"Please don't. I don't need you to buy me things." 

"But I want to buy you things. Plus, it's more for me, anyway. I really want to see you in a suit." 

"Fine. But don't make a habit of buying me things."

"Don't you have work today?"

Simon's eyes widened in horror. "Crap! Jesus--fuck, Baz! What time is it?"

"Quarter past nine."

"Fuck!"

Simon leapt out of bed and frantically scrambled around his room, trying to find suitable clothes. Baz watched him with a smile on his face, finding Simon's chaotic mad-dash to get ready incredibly entertaining. 

When he was finally dressed (his shirt was on inside out for a moment), he gave Baz a quick peck on his cheek. 

"I...I'll text you, okay?"

"Okay," Baz smiled. Simon started to head out, but Baz spun him around and gave him one final kiss. "And Simon?"

Simon looked up at him expectantly. 

"I love you."

Simon beamed at him and nodded as if to say he loved him, too. 

It didn't matter if Simon couldn't say the words back yet––Baz could feel that he meant it.