Otp Prompt #23: There's a fair in town, and all of Watford attends. Everything in Simon and Baz's lives has gone to hell... they deserve one night of forgetting everything. What will happen on their last day of freedom under the neon lights of the carnival? (Before the defeat the Humdrum, after everything else except Baz and Simon aren't together yet.)
*Baz's POV*
My father is an arsehole. After everything that's happened this year, of bloody course I felt it horrifically unnecessary to go to a carnival. Crowley, we should still be focused on the war with the old families and the Humdrum, for fucks' sake! When I told my father my plans of sitting it out, he for some reason felt the need to fight me on the subject.
"Basilton, you'll regret it if you don't go, you know." He had said to me, looking bored. (Although I knew that he wasn't bored- he was fully alert and intent on giving me hell.)
"Father, in what world would I regret not going to a silly party for children where all they serve is..." I visibly shiver as I lace disgust into my tone. "Fried." He rolled his eyes then, as he does so often.
"These are the good days, my son. You should make memories- you'll regret it later if you don't go tonight." Well that was the biggest bloody load of shit I had ever heard. The good days? Yes, yes, the good days in which I spent pining over my enemy that was destined to kill me, loathing myself to a point of insanity, and trying to find my mothers' killer. What wonderful memories.
I tried to keep my composure as I said, "But, father, I really see it more fit to-"
"Basil. Enough. This is non-negotiable, I'm afraid. You are to go to the carnival and that's that." We didn't discuss it further. I knew I could have simply skipped, but no doubt that he'd find out somehow. I promptly huffed (with dignity- I'm not a troll) up to my room and stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, playing mournful songs on my violin.
I'll be damned if I, Basilton Grimm-Pitch spend the whole carnival moping because father dearest told me I had to go. I was just going to sit on a wall smoking with Dev and Niall, but apparently their parents couldn't make sense of why they should go, either. They're currently at their respective homes, preparing for the inevitable war.
The carnival is already loud and large, and it's not even noon yet. Most of Watford attends, which explains the mysterious floating popcorn all around. There are people everywhere, their pulses beating unbearably loud. (I had to drain two deer before this, just to make sure I wasn't tempted by all of the flowing blood around.) Looking around, I see people I know, but I've never talked to. (Mostly because they're inferior.) I don't want to go in. I don't want to make 'memories' with people who would like to see me dead, and I most certainly don't want to be here watching Snow and Wellbelove cozy it up on the ferris wheel.
Startling me from my thoughts, I feel a finger tap me on my shoulder. I whip around, expecting to see Dev or Niall after all, but instead, I'm face to face with Simon Snow himself. (Well, not face to face so much. More like his face to my jaw.) Speak of the devil. He looks beautiful, as always. His bronze curls are a halo of gold around his face and his (extra)ordinary blue eyes. He looks nervous, but determined.
"What do you want, Snow?" I sneer.
*Simon's POV*
I wish he wouldn't sneer at me so much. I came over to him because honestly, he was the only familiar face I could find. Not much time to socialize with anyone but your bloody roommate, (ex) girlfriend and best friend when you're the chosen one.
I roll my eyes, but speak nonetheless. "Well, er... where are Dev and Niall?"
"Currently unavailable," He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Why, Snow?" To be quite honest, I don't really know why I'm doing this myself. Maybe because there's no one else I know here. Maybe because I know this is the last time I'll see Baz until one of us kills the other. Maybe because he just looked so alone standing there in front of the carnival.
"Well, because, um... Well, I-"
"Spit it out, Chosen."
"Penny and Agatha couldn't come tonight and I don't know anyone else. And I just... well, I just need a night away from everything." I look at him with what I hope are pleading eyes. He scoffs and begins to walk away, but I reach out for his arm. He stops, looking back at me, and quirks an eyebrow. "Listen... Baz, please. This is our last day of freedom. It's the end of the year, the end of Watford, and right now, I just want to forget everything. Just for one night. Do it with me, Baz." He looks mildly disgusted, but I can tell that he's thinking about it.
"Everything?" He nearly whispers. I know he means everything that's happened with us in the past. The fighting, the threats. I nod my head, sure of myself. "Okay. Deal." I let his arm go and we walk side by side into the carnival (we've never walked side by side; it's weird) that has a large neon sign at the top of the gates. 'Golden Days'. Must be the name of the carnival. I look at Baz with uncertainty, but he just smiles at me. Merlin, is that what Baz's smile looks like? Crowley, I could get used to that.
I grab his hand and start running into the crowd, dragging him behind me. I hear what I think is Baz laughing behind me and it gives me a jolt of ecstasy. His laugh is so carefree... like he's got nothing but everything to live for. I love it. I keep dragging him behind me until we get to the line for a rollercoaster. I let his hand go and I see that he turns pale. (Well, paler than usual, that is. He must've eaten before this because he has a bit more colour than he usually does.)
"What's wrong?" I frown. He gulps and I watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down.
"Nothing, Snow, I just..." He's training to maintain his composure, but he's failing. It's bloody odd seeing his nervous. Baz is a lot of things, but nervous is not one of them. "I'm not a fan of rollercoasters." Oh.
"We can ride another ride if you-"
"No. No, it's fine, Snow. I can do it,"
"Why are you afraid?" He glares at me but doesn't correct my word choice.
"When I was younger I went on one with my aunt Fiona. I... well my stomach didn't react well."
"Vampires can get sick?" I mentally slap myself, but instead of glaring at me, he just nods absentmindedly as he stares at the rollercoaster. He must really be scared if he's admitting to being a vampire. Although I suppose it doesn't quite matter now that we're not in Watford anymore. I grab his hand and give it a squeeze, not letting it go this time. His hand is cold and calloused but it's a nice break from Agatha's warm and smooth hands. I think I see his breath catch, but I ignore it.
We don't talk again until we're seated in the ride, climbing up to the top before the drop. Baz's breath is fast and his leg is shaking, so I hold his hand even tighter. "It's gonna be okay Baz," I laugh. He rolls his eyes, but I see the smile playing on his lips. As we drop, I look over to see Baz screaming, but laughing all the same. His hair is flying all around his face and he looks absolutely perfect as always. The bloody wanker never looks bad even as he's terrified on a rollercoaster. As we lurch on the turns, he looks over to me, his face alight with joy. (It occurs to me now that I don't think I've ever really seen Baz happy. It's... well it's bloody lovely.) I smile back and we keep holding hands all throughout the ride.
*Baz's POV*
Snow seems to be keen on torturing me. On all of the rides so far, he's held my hand bone-breakingly hard. (Although it doesn't hurt because I can't really feel the pain. All I feel is his warmth in my cold hand.) He only lets go once we're off the rides, and even then it seems reluctantly. After all these years of fighting, being friends with him seems so natural. I try not to think too hard about how it will all go back to normal by morning. Aleister Crowley, I wish we could stay this way forever.
The sun is setting now, but the carnival goes on until sunrise. Well, I suppose that's not totally true. The Normals leave around 11 and then the Watford students spell the gates unlocked after, staying in until daybreak. Only four more hours until the Normals leave.
Simon turns to me, smiling a lopsided and bashful smile. "I'm kind of hungry..." He mutters, a grin on his face the whole time. I roll my eyes good naturedly. (Who would've thought that was possible?)
"You're always hungry, you git," I sigh and prompt him to walk forward. "Go on then, Snow. Let's get you some atrociously fried food." Somehow, his face lights up even more as he grabs my hand again (I feel sparks every time we touch) and drags me to the nearest food stand. (Can you even call it food?) Simon orders one big 'funnel cake' and a corn dog. Both fried. Both bound to make him sick on the rides. When we get the food, he drags me along to an open bench to sit down. He places the corn dog in front of me and the cake in front of him. I simply shake my head and push the dog to sit in front of him. (What I would give for a real dog right now. I'm not very hungry for blood, but I wouldn't pass it up.)
He furrows his brow and pushes the food back to me, along with some ketchup. "Eat." He says it simply, like it's a command. I roll my eyes, but (reluctantly) dip the corn dog in ketchup and then take a bite. It's... well it's not the bloody worst thing I've ever had. Crowley, it might actually be good. I suppose I've never had anything fried. It's frowned upon at the Pitch manor. But this isn't half bad. I cover my mouth as I take another, bigger bite. When I look up from my plate, Simon is smirking to himself while absolutely shoveling food into his mouth.
I must look disgusted because he looks up at me and asks (with his mouth full), "What?" I laugh and roll my eyes again. It's like watching a dog eat. A dog that I'd like to slip the tongue.
"You're disgusting," I shake my head and look away from his face before I do something stupid. Like spit on him and then lick it all off and kiss him. Yes, that would most certainly not be smart. I cover my mouth with my hand again as I take another bite, trying to chew around my fangs. But before I can even swallow, Simon gently (I never thought Simon could ever do anything gentle to me) pulls my hand away from my mouth and holds it there. There aren't butterflies in my stomach. Vampires don't get butterflies. We're immortal and dangerous and badarse. I have bats in my stomach.
"Baz, you know you don't have to do that here. No one else is paying attention," Does that mean that he's paying attention? "It's just me. Eat how you want." He shrugs, pulling his hand away from mine after a moment, blushing furiously. He is so bloody adorable when he blushes. Damn it all to hell.
I don't cover my mouth again as I keep eating and he smiles at me. I can feel his magic wrap all around me as we eat together in silence. Not in a threatening, burning way like usual... it's warm. Safe.
"What ever is the bloody appeal to that fried... mess that you're eating, Snow?" I break the silence. He looks up at me, eyes practically bulging out of his head. "What?" I inquire.
"You've never had a funnel cake?" I shake my head.
"Um, no. I don't fancy getting vampire diabetes anytime soon." He lets out a laugh (I realize too late that I've just admitted to being a vampire... but he doesn't seem to care) and pushes his plate to me, gesturing at the powdered mess.
"Try it! It's delicious, Baz. Just one bite,"
"I, um... I think not," He rolls his eyes and gets a small bite of the monstrosity on his fork.
"Open." He commands.
"Er, Snow-"
"Open!" He commands with a laugh. I sigh, because I know that he won't relent anytime soon. I open my mouth ever so slightly. I know he sees my fangs because his eyes go a bit wider and he mutters, "Wicked..." I try to ignore the urge to snap my mouth shut as he puts the food in my mouth. It tastes like... well it tastes like right diabetes, doesn't it? But powdered sugar covered, fried to perfection diabetes.
"Crowley, Snow! This is delicious!" I snatch the plate from him and start eating at a Simon-Snow-pace, manners well from my mind now. He frowns, so I quirk an eyebrow at him.
"Well, Baz, since we've decided to put everything behind us... I 'spose you shouldn't call me by my last name anymore, yeah?" He fidgets with his fingers as he says it. Calling him Simon seems so... personal. Too personal for enemies-turned-one-night-friends. But I suppose I could have a bit of fun with this. Before I can say anything, he blurts out, "And not Chosen, either."
"Right. Well then... where to next, love?" He takes in a breath and turns bright red, tripping over every other word. For a moment, I think I've done the wrong thing, but once he gets a hold on himself, he just smiles at me and nods.
"Okay, Baz. Very funny. 'Least it's better than Snow or Chosen." I can't believe he's letting my call him love.
*Simon's POV*
I can't believe that I'm letting him call me love. I can't believe that I liked it when he called me love. I don't know why I want him to do it again. I get up from my seat and throw our trash away, trying to calm myself down away from Baz's watchful eye. When I get back to our table, he's standing up and waiting for me while adjusting his jacket.
"Come on then, Sn-" He stops himself before he can finish, turning a little pink. "Love. I've got the next place to go to." I smile and grab his hand, letting him lead me to our next adventure. In some ways, I'm happy that Penny and Agatha couldn't make it. I'm glad that I get to spend time with Baz alone. (When did I start wanting alone time with my enemy?)
When we finally stop, he takes his hand back. (For reasons I'm not willing to think about right now) I feel my heart fall when he does. We're in the line for the Ferris Wheel. It's nearly time for the Normals to start heading out; they're walking out of the carnival and the Magicians have started spelling the workers to keep the place up and running after the Normals leave. When we get up to the front of the line, the man working the ride let us on in the two seater. The Ferris Wheel is so tall that the seats should probably be enclosed, but it's a carnival, so no one is surprised.
Baz and I squeeze in next to each other, and not one single part of our bodies other than our heads aren't touching. From our toes to our shoulders, I can feel an electric current running through my veins. My heart is beating wildly. I don't exactly know why- it's just Baz. My enemy/friend for one night. Although, I'm trying not to think too hard about the one night part. In fact, I'm trying not to think about anything right now, really. Just how safe I feel at the moment, and how lovely Baz has been tonight. It almost hurts, knowing that this is how we could've spent all those years. As friends instead of mortal enemies. Then again, that wasn't really our choice in the first place.
But it is tonight. As we slowly climb higher and higher, the carnival gets much quieter. Much calmer than when the Normals were here. The air is filled with magic. I can feel Baz's magic wrapping around me, and the night sky is thick with everyone else's. Everything is flying every which way and sparks from wands are everywhere. But what might be most beautiful is the neon lights all around us. Once it got dark, everything started lighting up, but not so bright that we can't see the stars at the top of the Ferris Wheel. It's beautiful. I can't help but lean into Baz, resting my head on his shoulder.
Maybe it's just me, but I think I can hear his heart beating. It's not long before I feel his head resting on top of mine. His hair tickles my ears, but I can't find it in myself to mind. I don't mind anything right now. Crowley, I think that the Humdrum himself could pop up right now and I wouldn't give a bloody rats' arse.
I slowly bring my head up, and when I look over at Baz, he's blushing. "Sorry, Snow- er, Simon. I mean, um..." He sounds like me, tripping over his words. Ignoring the way that my heart leapt into my throat when he called me Simon, I stop him.
"Baz, no. I just... well I was wondering why we were never friends like this before." I feel my face burn, but I just need to know the answer. I need to know why we weren't ever like this when Merlin it's been so wonderful tonight.
He looks at me with his stormy eyes as he says, "You know why. My family, they... well, you know, Simon." There he goes calling me Simon again. He looks away, but I catch his face with my fingers. We're stopped at the top now; we can see everything from up here. But all I find myself wanting to look at is Baz.
"Screw your family." He looks taken aback, and I must admit, I've surprised myself, too. I don't know where this courage came from. I'm not drunk. (Well, maybe a bit. Maybe drunk on Baz.)
"Simon, I-"
"Stop calling me Simon." I state simply. Stop calling me Simon or I'm going to do something stupid.
He pauses for a moment, looking into my eyes like he wants to memorize every ordinary colour there.
"Simon." He whispers.
*Baz's POV*
I don't know why I called him Simon again. Maybe because he's looking at me hungrily, and Crowley, I want to know what he'll do. Maybe because if it makes him mad... I'll get to kiss him before he sends me flying. Maybe, if he screams at me for calling him by his name, I'll finally get what I want.
Then he kisses me. I don't waste any time floundering or pulling away. Instead I automatically pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Merlin, Methulusah and Morgana nothing has ever felt this nice. He's doing this thing with his jaw, and his hands are roaming under my shirt and in my hair and I can barely even think, and-
Someone clears their throat loudly. "The ride is over, gentlemen." Simon and I spring away from each other and look at the ride operator. I just got into trouble for snogging Simon Snow on the Ferris Wheel. Aleister Crowley, I'm living a charmed life. I feel Simon shaking with laughter as he clambers (really clambers- he's as graceful as a hippo) out of the seat and extends his hand out to help me up.
"Coming, love?" I smile at him so hard that my cheeks hurt. (Probably because I'm not used to smiling.) I nod and grab his hand, letting him help me out. Instead of pulling his hand away this time, he laces his fingers through mine and takes off running with me as we shoot down the nearly barren walkways. Magicians all around look at us with curiosity, but I can't find it in me to care. As we run, my jacket billows behind me and Simon keeps tripping... but it's perfect.
It's like a slow motion scene from those movies. The one where the couple is running away from their troubles together, like nothing else matters. They're smiling and laughing, and the one in front turns back to look at the one behind them, all of the love in the world in their eyes. It's like that, but so much bloody better because it's gay. And anything with Simon Snow in it is infinitely better in my book.
We finally get to a man with a large old-timey polaroid camera stood up and Simon places two pounds in his hand. He drags me up in front of the camera and pulls me down to his level and smashes his face against mine, as though we were in a photo booth. The camera snaps. For the next one, he presses his lips warmly against my cheek and waits for the camera to snap again. Then, he (without my knowledge or permission) (although he could kill me now, and he'd have my permission) jumps up into my arms and nuzzles his face into my neck, closing his eyes. I'm supposed to be looking at the camera, but I can only keep my eyes on him. Finally, for the last picture, he hops down from my arms. As he goes to do a pose beside me, he (somehow) trips over himself and ends up grabbing onto jacket collar, pulling me towards him. We land in a breathtaking kiss, him still pulling me ever closer, and me too stunned to do anything but let him.
When the camera snaps, he springs away and goes to retrieve the photos from the man. Simon has more energy than a labrador right now. I'd like to think it was from kissing me, but it might just be from the overall craziness of the night. For a moment, he slows, taking my hand and pulling me close so that I can see the photos, too. They all turned out lovely, even if he did nearly knock me over in the process multiple times. He looks up at me now, and he walks backwards, taking me with him. (He tucks the photos away in my jacket pocket.)
When we get behind a tent, he pulls me to him again, snogging me like there's no time left. There is no way that things will ever go back to the way they were after this.
*Simon's POV*
We've been having a proper snog now for at least twenty minutes. My heart is... well it feels like it's been lit on fire, doesn't it? (In a wonderful way, that is.) His mouth is soft and cold and I can't help it when I lean back and tell him something that I'm not even sure I knew myself. "I love you, Baz." His face glows and he looks at me as though he's always been hungry for my touch. (And my touch only.)
"Crowley, you dolt. I've loved you since fifth bloody year." He laughs before pulling me back in to get lost in him again.
...
We spend the rest of the night on a hill near the back of the carnival either snogging or talking. He's laying down right next to me, and I'm practically on top of him. We should've been like this all these years. It only took us until graduation to figure it out.
"Hey Baz?" He traces the moles on my face while I run my hand on his stomach. (In just a short time, I've learned that it's one of his favorite places to be touched.)
"Yes, Simon?" I smile when he calls me by my name again. So much better than Snow or Chosen. (Although 'love' might be a close second.)
"Thank you,"
"For what?"
"For... for giving me a night away from everything. For escape," He frowns. "What?" I ask as I place a kiss to his jaw.
"Is that all this is? Are we... will this be over by tomorrow?" I can't help but let out a laugh.
"Not my a long shot, my love... not by a long shot."
*Baz's POV*
I understand now why my father wanted me to come to the carnival. This will undoubtedly be my favorite memory in years to come. I also understand the name of the carnival now. 'Golden Days'.
The definition of Golden Days is "a period of great happiness, prosperity, and achievement.' These are the golden days, the bad and all. Simon Snow is my golden day.
Fourty Years Later
"Simon, love!" I call down to him from the attic. In a few minutes, he comes climbing up the stairs as fast as he can. He may not have his magic anymore, but he's still fit for an old man. I suppose we're both old men, now. He's just an old man with a tail and wings.
"Yes, Baz?" I stand up (not as agile as I used to be) and walk over to him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his face.
"Look at what I found, dear..." I give him the pile of polaroids that I found in a crate. "From the carnival so many years ago." He smiles wistfully at the pictures. We were both young, then- no wrinkles or worry lines. (Although he is still dashing in his old age.) In the polaroids, we were at a carnival called 'Golden Days', I believe.
"Yes, I remember..." He mutters more to himself than me. I know he doesn't remember. Dementia does that to a person. But that's okay. As the years went on and the colours of wanderlust started fading... so did Simon. But there are some things that have remained. The memories will never change, for one. We've stayed absolutely drunk on each other, throughout our lives. I've stayed pale, and Simon has stayed bloody handsome. The love has remained the same. And even though Simon doesn't remember half of our memories... I'll keep them alive. I'll keep him alive. The him that was so alive and so full of wonder.
I will never forget the golden days that changed my life forever.