Chamber by Chamber // Snowbaz

Gaining Love

Finally, I put a pair of trackie bottoms on him, but leave his shirt off, instead pulling a blanket over his shoulders. But not long after I do that, he starts to come to. (I allow myself one more soft look at him before cooling my expression into a harder one.) He finally opens his eyes and looks around, startling as he sees me. He scrunches his eyebrows as his surroundings sink in.

"Baz?"

"Yes, Snow?"

"Am I in-"

"The Pitch manor? Yes. My room? Yes. Tainting my sheets and dragging mud in my home. Also fucking yes, you twat." He sighs, but he must be really roughed up, because he's not responding to any of my insults as per usual.

"Did you... er, did you clean me?" My bottoms hang loosely on him, as ill-fitting as the rest of his clothes.

"Magic- dead from the neck up, Snow? Crowley. What happened to you?" I mean it to come out as an insult, but I'm hoping he'll really answer me because I'm worried. Because I'm an utter disappointment to myself and my family. Because I love him. He rolls his eyes a bit. (He still looks pale.)

"Well, I...er, I was on a mission from-"

"You're precious mage?" He ignores me.

"-the mage, and I was fighting them - goblins, I mean - in the woods, but there were too many of them."

"Bunce wasn't with you?" I sound bored. I'm anything but.

"No, she's down in the states to visit Micah for Christmas."

"What about Wellbelove?" I spit her name like it burns my mouth. (It might as well- it sure bloody feels like it, sometimes.) He looks away, flushed. (I'm glad he's getting colour back.)

"We, uh... well, Baz, I just didn't have anywhere else to go, okay?" I nod my head and we sit in silence for a moment, before Simon speaks again. (For someone who has trouble speaking, he never does seem to bloody stop.) "S'pose I should thank you for... helping?" I sneer at him.

"S'pose you should, Snow." He stares at me for a moment, which makes me blush. (I just fed recently- damn the squirrels.)

"Thanks, Baz. I just... it felt like I was gonna die, y'know?" For a time, we're sat there quietly, no hostility in the air. I nod softly, without quite realizing I'm doing it.

"Yeah..." I respond. I'm suddenly acutely aware of how close we're sitting to each other. I can feel his heat radiating off of him. I'm so cold. (I read once that cold was just the absence of heat- things can always gain heat. Which made me think hate- our hate - was just love not yet found. I used to think we could gain love. That I could make it happen, somehow. I was being right crackers.) "Are you hurting?" I wanted to spit at him. I wanted to yell and curse at him and tell him to not be such a dumbarse- to be more careful and always call if he needed help. (I should've yelled. It would have gotten a more usual reaction than what my question did.) He raises his eyebrows in surprise and doesn't say anything for a second.

Just when I think he's gone mute, he says, "No, I'm... I'm fine- thanks. Thanks for, um. Everything..." He trails off (I hate it when he does that) and we're sat in the deafening silence again. For a second I think he's leaning towards me. (I'm definitely leaning towards him, even if it is subconscious.) Then I figure it's just my bloody imagination playing tricks. (Then I'm not so sure.) And just as we're getting closer and closer, I feel more and more like I'm going to combust. Catch fire. Whether it's because he lights my soul, my heart, my dick on fire - whatever poetic shit you may have - or because of the heat radiating off of him... I could burst at any moment.

"Simon-" I mutter, because I've got nothing else to say. I look at his (extra)ordinary blue eyes and I swear they flick down to my lips, just for a fraction of a second. And just as I think something is about to happen...

Mordelia pounces into my room and we spring apart like we've been caught doing something. (I'm not so sure we haven't... hope is a bloody bitch.) She cocks her head to one side and smiles her toothy (perhaps not toothy- she's lost a few in the front) grin at us. "Mum says there's a man here to pick up the boy with the curls." I school my expression again and smile a bit at her. It's tight-lipped and closed.

"What have I said about knocking, Mordelia?" She just shrugs and walks out of my room. Almost immediately, Simon jumps out of the bed and throws on one of my sweatshirts hanging over my chair absentmindedly. (Seeing him in my clothes is doing things that it shouldn't to me.) It's like he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

He's turning to leave, tripping over his feet and blushing when he turns back to look awkwardly at me. "Er- thanks, Baz. For, um. Y'know." I roll my eyes and give him one curt nod. He hesitates at the door like he's going to say something else, but then he decides against it and leaves to go meet his precious mage. (In my fucking house.) (I can hardly be bothered by that, though, as I allow myself to stare openly at Simon's arse in my trackie bottoms as he leaves. Another simple pleasure in life? That arse.) (I fucking hate myself.) As he's leaving, I'm left wondering only one thing.

What the fuck just happened?