COC #16: Re-Imagined Scene
What if someone had asked about Simon and Baz's relationship during the Christmas dinner?
~ This one was hard for me for some reason? Writer's block is rude, but I'm determined to get all of the prompts done. Enjoy! ~
We've been sitting at Christmas dinner for thirty minutes now (after being ten minutes late because of Snow showing back up) and no one has said a word. Simon has just been stuffing his face as Mordelia watches curiously, the littler ones laugh at his (lack of) manners, Daphne looks pointedly away from him and towards me, Fiona glaring from behind her napkin, and father barely touching his food.
But apparently I've been looking at Simon like he's a fucking god (I'm not so sure he bloody isn't sometimes) because Daphne soon says, "So Basilton..." She glances between Simon and I and seems to come to a conclusion. "Are you two... together, then?" Simon chokes on his mouthful of roast beef, father glares wildly at her, and Fiona snorts long and loud. I can feel my chest tighten. On one hand, he did say he wanted to tumble around and be happy boyfriends. And he said that we're snogging. On the other hand, what if he didn't mean it?
"I, um- Mother, I-" I never stutter over my words, but fuck if it's not hard at the moment.
Father interrupts me, a quelling scowl on his face. "Daphne dear, I hardly think that it's our business-"
"Oh hush, Malcolm, I'm just wondering!"
"Yes, but obviously they're not- with all due respect Mr. Snow - dating. Basil isn't... well he's not- they just wouldn't-" I can feel my whole back tense up, but I feel Simon's soft hand find mine under the table, so I ease up. I don't want to say anything for certain because I don't know what we are. (Enemies with benefits? Friends? Friends who snogged? Crowley, are we boyfriends?)
"Actually," Simon interjects. "We're, uh- well, er... we're just figuring things out-" I take my hand from his. Right. I knew we weren't really dating. I knew that. It was bloody dead from the neck up of me to think he was serious about being boyfriends now. I was just being daft.
"No, father. No, mother. We're not. He's just a friend." He wrinkles his nose at even the word friend, but he seems relatively pleased with the answer, so he relaxes and goes back to eating. I don't want to look over at Simon for fear of what I'll see on his face.
"Oh okay, love," Daphne smiles sweetly. "Sorry, I just had to ask."
"No trouble, mum." She goes back to eating and the table lapses back into a relatively uncomfortable silence. When I look up from my plate, I see Fiona giving me a pitying look. (Pity. From her. I should have her drawn and fucking quartered.) I just sneer at her, but she rolls her eyes right back at me in defiance and then goes back to the bangers and mash on her plate. While we're all still eating, I risk a glance to see Snow's face. He doesn't look angry, but he doesn't look pleased or happy, either. (Dare I say it, but he almost looks... hurt?) No one speaks for the rest of dinner, and shortly after the plates are spelled away, Simon and I steal away to the bedroom, tucking in for the night.
I suppose we aren't going to talk about it.