wiped out! - snowbaz

5 - baz

all baz can think about through lessons is that he's going to simon's house. he's gonna meet simon's mum, he's gonna see simon's room, he's gonna spend an entire evening alone with simon.

and he can't wait.

lunch has become baz's favourite part of the day. he spends it with simon and penelope, and now with penelope's friend ebeneza- "but if you call me that i'll kill you. it's ebb."

so they're sat at their usual bench. penny's doing homework, baz is nibbling at a packet of salt-and-vinegar crisps, (forced into his hands by simon) and simon is on his phone. ebb arrives, shirt untucked, one doc marten boot undone with the lace trailing along the ground, and her hair unruly and sprinkled with white blossom.

"i have an announcement!"

penny looks up from her science textbook, grinning. "and what would that be, my dear ebeneza?"

"i'm in love, penelope."

baz rolls his eyes. in the two weeks that he's known her, ebb's been "in love" six times. but ebb's constant infatuation kinda gives baz hope- because ebb's not afraid to feel things, even if it means she gets hurt. and she's not afraid of being in love either, even though she gets horribly teased for it from mage and his minions.

"enlighten us, dear friend."

ebb gushes about her latest crush for some time, but all baz can focus on is simon and how he looks, curled up there on the bench, eyes closed, spring sunlight catching on his toffee hair and apple cheeks. he glows, almost. like those glowsticks you get at the firework shows, or the dying embers of a bonfire, but softer, brighter. like he's made of light.

bloody hell, basilton. get yourself together.

baz looks at his hands. they're twisted anxiously in his lap, and he is suddenly aware of every nerve ending in his body, aware of the red blush creeping along the back of his neck, aware of simon's warm breath ghosting the skin of his cheek.

simon even smells good. he smells of summer, of peach iced tea and vanilla ice cream, of smoky bonfires and a shivering heart and toes sinking into dewy grass.

-----

the day goes exceptionally slowly. baz crawls through double science and meets simon at the bus stop, like usual. but today, instead of getting off at the very last stop, he gets off with simon on the second stop.

"this is my house!" simon grins, pointing to a little semi-detached house halfway up a hill. it overlooks a little park.

"it's lovely, snow."

"you really think? i- like, i mean i know you live in a huge mansion or whatever, and it's not much compared to that, but-"

"snow. i love it."

snow opens the door. it leads into a small halway with coats hung on the wall and shoes on a rack. baz slips off his converse and his backpack and follows snow into the lounge.

a blonde woman with sad eyes sits on the sofa, a laptop on her knees and a bag of jaffacakes tucked under her arm.

"hi baz. i'm lucy. do you want a cup of tea?"

"uhm- hi. yeah, i'll make it."

and then he's being lead through into simon's kitchen and being shown where the kettle is, and that he should turn it off just before it boils because it tends to "implode", and then a packet of chocolate digestives is being handed to him and it's all. so. domestic.

he follows simon up the stairs, which are bare like his at home, but instead of being highly polished and spotless, they are rough and splattered with paint.

baz reaches simons room, and he feels his eyes go wide with wonder. the walls are painted blue, but they're almost entirely covered with posters for various bands. he spots a my chemical romance vinyl sleeve tacked up by the window and smiles.

there are glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, and there's a lava lamp on the bookshelf. and there are vinyls everywhere.

baz picks his way through the mess to the bed, and sits down on the spotty duvet.

"i like your room, snow."

"thanks! i know- let's play truth or dare!"

"uh- what?"

"just go along with it, you twit. truth or dare?"

"truth? i guess?"

"do you fancy penelope?"

baz almost spits out his tea. he doubles up, choking. when he finally stops violently coughing, he grins at simon and sputters that no, he most certainly does not fancy penelope bunce.

"i can't believe you just asked me that, snow! anyway, your turn. oh, and here's a little hint: you have to pick truth."

"fine, fine. truth."

"you still got your beady eye on wellbelove?"

"uhm. maybe? i don't know, i mean. i don't know her that well. she's just... pretty, but like... i don't know anything about her. and you were right about her being kind of a cow. she seems quite rude, actually. so no, i guess."

they sit on the floor, listening to all sorts of music. turns out simon actually has pretty good taste. he plays this one song called lovely, and baz spends the whole time looking at the mole on the back of simon's neck.

and then they go downstairs again, and simon makes ramen, and compared to the fancy-ass meals baz has at home, this stuff is delicious. simon eats his ramen with a spoon like an animal.

but it's soon time for baz to go home. he walks. it's dark, and it's a long way, and when he finally reaches the familiar shadow of his house, he's half an hour late and his father is standing in the hallway, arms crossed, with that metallic gleam of malice in his eyes.

"where have you been, basilton?"