Otp Prompt #6: Someone has spelled Simon and Baz's hands together, and the spell is broken only if they find some way to forgive each other and get along.
Some wanker thought it would be bloody hilarious if she spelled Baz and I's hands together. Okay not just some wanker. Miss Possibelf; my favorite teacher, of all the people. We were in the Courtyard and Baz had just said something nasty to me about Agatha. I don't remember what he said exactly. I mostly just remember red and feeling all of the magic rise to my skin. The next thing I remember, I had a fistful of Baz's slick hair and I was pounding him senseless. He looked angry... but really he seemed more frightened.
He for certain had a broken nose, but he spelled it better after I was lifted off of him by Miss Possibelf. She gave me a ten minute lecture on control before turning to Baz and telling him that he shouldn't have picked a fight. He rolled his eyes at her (I swear the git is a fool sometimes. Who rolls their eyes at a powerful professor at a magicks school?) and that's when she lost it. She was yelling and a group of students gathered around us to watch the scene unfold.
"Since you two can't seem to keep your hands off each other," she glared at us both while moving us side by side, putting Baz's cold hand in mine. "Then perhaps you'll enjoy this little arrangement for now. I Wanna Hold Your Hand." She pointed her wand at our conjoined hands and I could feel the magic settle in our interlocked fingers. Baz and I both tried to pull away, but we were stuck like that. "Until you two can figure out how to get along, you'll be stuck like this. Could be a bloody eternity." Baz looked at me with rage behind his eyes. We tried to Nonsense it and even Back to Start, but nothing would work.
So now here we are three hours later in our room. Miss Possibelf sent us to our room afterward because we couldn't very well go to both of our classes. She sent up the work we're both missing. We're sitting on Baz's bed which is surprisingly comfortable. It has the strong smell of cedar and bergamot and for some reason, that relaxes me as I try to study. Which, when you're basically glued to your ever plotting enemy, is pretty hard to do. He keeps humming a song I don't recognize and he's writing in his journal. Probably plotting. Meanwhile, I'm trying to read my Magic Words book but my eyes scan the same paragraph over and over without actually soaking anything in. I sigh and close the book, turning to Baz.
"I'm hungry." I complain.
"You're always hungry." He sneers at me, but puts his journal down nonetheless.
"But Baz it's dinnertime. We should go down to the dining hall for food. We can still eat like this, you know." He huffs and tugs me up off the bed and out the door. I smile happily, which is weird to be doing in the presence of Baz.
Some people who weren't around to see the commotion earlier today throw curious looks at Baz and I while we walk down to dinner with our hands laced together. Baz sneers at all of them and they look away. I can't help but blush at the thought of willingly holding Baz's hand. As he drags me along, I pay attention to the way his hand feels in mine. It's colder than a normal person's hand, but it's soft, too. I can feel when his fingers twitch every now and then, and the way his hand tightens around mine whenever someone gets too close. I find myself wanting to rub my thumb around on the back of his hand. It must just be an instinct I have when I hold anyone's hand.
I swear, every person's head turns toward Baz and I when we walk into the dining hall, but I pretend to ignore them. I drag Baz over to where Penny and I sit, and he follows with little protest.
"Umm... hey?" Penny questions me as I pile my plate high with food and hand Baz one, too. For some reason, Penelope just looks more curious than surprised. I wonder why that is.
"Long story, Pen. I'll explain later. It's nothing." I reassure her. She nods hesitantly and goes back to her own food. I shovel bite after bite into my mouth and I notice that Baz is staring at me.
"What?" I say, my mouth full with potatoes. He rolls his eyes but I notice a small smile playing on his lips.
"You're disgusting, Snow." I roll my eyes good naturedly (is that even possible with Baz? To not fight?) and I let my eyes fall from his face down to his plate. He has barely anything on there; just an apple, a slab of roast beef and a small pile of mashed potatoes. It seems like he's just moving his food around with his fork- not really eating anything. I don't know what possesses me to do this, but I squeeze his hand softly.
"Eat." I command simply. He looks at me curiously and shakes his head, shyly looking back down at his food. He still doesn't eat. I frown at him and I want to say more, but then Penny starts talking to me about the Humdrum. I'm not really paying attention to her, though. Baz stays quiet for the rest of dinner.
The walk back to Mummers House is almost peaceful. I say almost because I'm still unsettled about Baz not eating. Now that I think about it... I don't think I've ever seen him eat. Do vampires need normal food? I would think that they do. His hand is more jittery in mine than it was an hour ago, and I wonder why that is.
When we finally get to our room, Baz seems nervous. Which is weird because Baz is never nervous. He's a lot of things- irritating, infuriating, brave, ruthless, an arsehole- but he's not nervous. "So, um. How are we supposed to change, exactly? We can't very well sleep in our uniforms." He throws in a sneer, just because. I roll my eyes.
"I don't know... spell our shirts off, I suppose?" Baz doesn't usually sleep with his shirt off (I do, because I get quite hot at night) but I can't see how he's going to get one on when our hands are glued together. I can still feel Miss Possibelf's magic thrum in my fingertips, keeping us from separating.
Baz looks away from me, but spells both of our shirts off like I had advised. I have never seen Baz without a shirt on. That may be weird, considering we've been roommates for seven and a half years, but we've never dressed in front of each other. (Or undressed, for that matter. Unless you count me taking my shirt off for bed). He has abs. I hate that he has abs and I barely do. I have small abs, but you can only see them because I practically starve all Summer. But Baz... well Baz is well built. He has abs, and not just because he's scrawny. The bloody perfect git probably doesn't even have to try to have those. He just does.
"Get a pair of pyjama bottoms." I don't argue, I just do as he says and he gets his own as well. Oh. I forgot that we'll have to change bottoms. Without warning, I'm being tugged to our en suite. He goes inside, but has me stay right outside, closing the door most of the way until it almost touches our conjoined hands. I hear him moving around, trying to change his pants with just one hand. I've always been curious as to whether or not Baz can see himself in the mirror. I look through the small crack in the door and I see Baz. So obviously he can see himself. He's in just his boxers, trying to pull up his pyjama bottoms. His hair has fallen out of its usual slicked back state and he just looks so pale. Because he's a vampire I remind myself.
"Stop staring, Snow." He sneers into the mirror, looking me in the eyes. I feel all of the blood in my body rush to my face as I whip my head around, looking anywhere but at him. Blood. He's probably hungry. I don't have any concrete proof as to whether or not he's a vampire, but I'm fairly certain he is. And I'm sure he's hungry.
When he's done in the bathroom, we switch places and I change my bottoms (with much difficulty, I might add. I almost tugged Baz through the door and onto me). Before he can say anything to me about sleep or anything, I'm tugging him out of Mummers House and across campus.
"What are you doing?" He inquires. He clutches my hand tightly, and I'm confused when I feel my stomach flip. The air is cold as it hits my face, and I instinctively lean towards Baz. I probably should've done this when we had shirts off, but it's too late now. Baz's pale skin practically shimmers in the moonlight as we run.
"You didn't eat at dinner. You haven't had any blood since last night, that I know of. We're going to the Catacombs." I state simply. He stops in his tracks, yanking me back with him.
"Snow, you don't have to do this. You don't... you don't wanna see that." He looks almost scared. He doesn't want me to see him eat? (Or is it drink? I don't know the vampire lingo).
"Baz, it's fine. It's just what you need to feel good, yeah?" He nods. "Well I want you to feel good, so we'll go get you some blood. Simple." He smiles just a tiny bit, but I notice. It makes me smile, too. He nods a little bit and we keep walking down to the catacombs. "And Baz?" I say, still walking. Even in the dark, I can see the bruises forming on his face from where I hit him this morning. He looks at me without saying anything, prompting me to go on. "Sorry for hitting you today."
He looks confused. Then he sneers at me. "Well, it's not like you did much damage with those puny little arms of yours," I can feel my face fall, but then he sighs and says, "It's alright, Snow."
I perk up a little. (For reasons that I'm not willing to think about right now). "'least I didn't bruise your ego..." I mutter and smile. He smiles like he's trying not to and lets out a little laugh, playfully shoving me. (I didn't know Baz could playfully shove. I didn't know Baz could be playful at all). When he shoved me, our hands kept us together, and once I had tripped a bit, I was immediately back at Baz's side.
Soon we're at the Catacombs, and I tell Baz to lead the way. He does a quick summoning spell and I swear that all of the rats scurry to his feet almost immediately. Hundreds of them. "Don't look," He tells me, but I just smile at him. "Don't look!" He says a little more forcefully this time (I can still hear the smile in his voice though), but I still don't look away. He should know that it's okay for him to be like this. I'm not afraid of him.
Aleister Crowley... I'm not afraid of him. I realize for the first time that it's true. He may be evil. He may be a vampire. He may be my enemy. But I'm scared of him killing me because I think I know deep down that he won't. And I'm just realizing that maybe I don't want to hurt him, either. I don't really know what that means for us, but I'm not quite ready to think about it just yet.
After he's drained a few rats, we start walking back to Mummers House, not as rushed this time for some reason. His hand is warmer now, and I can feel that he has more body heat now than he did a few minutes ago. I lean into him. As we walk hand glued in hand to our room silently, I turn my attention back to our hands. He's still soft, and slightly warmer than he was. His pulse is beating quickly. He still holds tightly onto my hand (I realize now that I'm holding just as tightly to him as he is to me), but something is different now. The heavy weight of Miss Possibelf's magic in my fingers is gone. My breath gets caught in my throat as I lean my hand away from his (just a little. I don't want him to notice right away that I'm doing it). Our hands aren't spelled together anymore. That must mean we've learned to get along, or at least some variation of that. I wonder if he's noticed. I have... yet I find myself feeling sad at the prospect of letting go. So I just don't. If anything, I cling more tightly onto him then I was before.
When we get back to our room and I close the door, I wonder quietly if I can keep up the holding hands thing. I don't know why I like it so much; it's just a hand. My enemy's hand, no less. But when he uncertainly looks at me and then at the beds, I feel my heart warm and stomach twist at the thought of sharing a bed with him tonight. I nod and let him tug me over to his bed, and we lay down facing each other. Our joined hands fall in the middle of us and I pretend like I have to be closer to him in order for it to be comfortable for me. I can feel his breath like a whisper on my face. His eyes are shockingly grey even in the dark room. His hair falls over his face and I itch to move it out of the way.
He's looking at me with a face I've never seen before. My heart speeds up, and I hope he can't feel it in the hand that he's holding. I think he might kiss me. He's looking at me like he wants to. And I shock myself for thinking that I might let him. If he does kiss me, then maybe I'll let him. Maybe I'll let my enemy Baz snog me... and maybe I'll snog him back.
Then, I surprise myself when I kiss him. I just can't take it anymore, and I lean forward and kiss him. Softly. Tenderly. He kisses me back, and for someone who's never kissed anyone before, he sure is good at it. I momentarily forget that our hands are supposed to be spelled together as I let go to run my hand through his hair. He doesn't even seem surprised. In fact, he smirks against my mouth. The cheeky bastard.
Even though- or maybe I should correct that to especially since- Miss Possibelf spelled our hands together, she definitely remains my favorite teacher.
Punching Baz was the best decision I have ever made.