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Simon's POV
I smack Baz after we leave class and I walk a little too close behind him to hide my boner. Everyone around us turns at the thwacking sound Baz receives on the back of his perfect hair, and I know he'd take it if we were in our bedroom. . . But we aren't. So he turns around sneering, but his eyes are telling me a whole different story.
And as usual I take the first swing at him in the middle of the hallway, aiming to miss. Vampire. He pins me down immediately, holding both of my wrists down above my head with only a hand. A small group of students gather around us, and for their sake Baz raises a fist, even though he'd rather ride me like this than punch me.
My turn to smirk. But none of this is helping my erection.
Baz's POV
Oh, I am not letting Snow best me at my own game.
Since I do have him pinned down, and a crowd, I must be discreet. . .
I pretend to collect my anger and coolly brush my long black hair out of my face, still straddling Simon with a sneer, for every mage still watching in shock or boredom or amusement. Then I roll my eyes at him and move to get up, slightly grinding against his erection while I get off my knees to stand and leave him there fuming. The anger practically makes Snow red, and he scrambles to get up and follow me again.
Nobody gives me a suspicious second glance. Perfect.
Simon's POV
He. Just. Flipped his hair. Like a fucking princess. And fucking grinded on me. . . Only to get up and leave.
This is torture.
I'm torn between begging and going off now.
"Bazzy. . ."
"Yes, my love."
How dare he call me that and torture me?!
"You are so going to get it,"
"I can't wait," He smirks back at me as we're about to walk into the next class, I pull him into a crevice. Taking a quick look around for onlookers, I take him by the hips and he can never hold back his pretty smile when I have him like this. Planting my lips on his neck I start sucking higher near his jaw, and his perfect posture melts, and his back arches in my hands. I sigh in satisfaction at the utter chaos and beauty of his husky little whine, making sure to leave prominent red marks all along his neck.
I'm internally trying to mimick Baz's evil cackle, because he will not know what hit him. . .
Baz's POV
"Do you think I'm an idiot, Snow?"
"No, being an idiot is my job. . . Why?" I ask with a smirk.
"Watch your teeth. I'm not exactly dying for the world to know Simon Snow is the one I chose." He whispers imperiously between moans. (The real reason is because we can't risk the rumors spreading to his father this way.)
"You chose?" I scoff, pretending to be offended.
"Hmm. You're quite the nightmare; I wouldn't want to tarnish my reputation, now would I?" He says teasingly.
"Alright then," I breathe against his neck, pulling away. His silver eyes widen innocently, in loss and disappointment. Ha, he didn't see that coming!
I simply give him an incredulous stare, and jog back to Mummers to take care of my problem. And I made sure to leave very, very noticeable marks on his pale skin. . . Hopefully he doesn't notice (otherwise he'd spell them away) for long enough for my plan to come through.
Baz's POV
Simon and I exchange secret glances and growls (on his part) and sneers from across classrooms all day. How very romantic; aren't we truly iconic?
Eventually I reach the Football Pitch and I'm a little surprised to find Simon in Roland's team kit, even more surprised that Coach Mac has agreed to let Simon play right before a match. Then I'm informed that Roland is out of Watford with his family but he'll be back before the game—thank Merlin my team won't have to rely on Simon who basically has two left feet.
As I instruct warm up drills, I notice Coach Mac staring at my neck. Strange. Then Simon casually walks up from behind me along with a few other people who just finished running laps.
"Hey, Baz, watcha got on your neck there?" Simon asks with slight hostility and feigned ignorance, pointedly looking at Coach.
"What?" I ask in irritation, since everyone has been staring at my neck all morning. The fuck is wrong with all of them, have they never been exposed to flesh?
Everyone around us is stealing glances at me now.
"Well, Basilton, you know we have a big game tomorrow." Coach interjects, animatedly raising his brows high enough to reach his hairline.
"And. . . ?" I ask curtly, still having no clue why everyone is glaring at my neck or why Coach would feel the need to remind me; I am the captain, after all.
"You know," Coach continues waggling his brows awkwardly, "sex weakens your legs. So I'd hold back for a day if I were you." He says tight-lipped. Now everyone is staring unabashedly, with jeering smiles.
What in Merlin's name?!
"And what makes you bring up sex?" I question again, with a clipped tone, and I can hear Simon bouncing on his toes with a playful smirk on his face. I want to punch it off his face right this second, since I'm certain he had something to do with this. I will destroy him.
"You know. . ," The Coach says more awkwardly, and I raise an imperious brow, "The hickeys all over your neck." The second that slips out of his mouth a couple laughs do too, in the background.
"Right." I say, with a tight-lipped smile of my own. Gulping back all of my emotions right now. And I will fucking kill Simon Snow.
Simon's POV
The entire team is snickering and Baz glares daggers my way—wicked grey daggers. I know he isn't truly mad but he's definitely embarrassed, even though he'll never admit it.
I take great pride and joy in my work. And it shows in my enormous smirk.
"Keith, you're benched for the game." Baz says with a sweet, fake smile. He recognized Keith's loudest laugh, which would be terrifying is he wasn't a vampire. Then he sneers at everyone else, and they all cower and walk away. Then he gives them all hell on the pitch. Even Dev and Niall suffer. Oh, and me. The most. But I suppose it was good practice for tomorrow. Even though I'm not playing. . .
Baz's POV
Well played, Snow. Enjoy making it up to me when I pretend to be upset.
— — — — — — —
Simon's POV
"Baby, please forgive me!" I beg, with my arms wrapped around Baz's leg as he drags me around our room, failing to shake me off.
"Bazzy, baby, please!!" I whine incessantly, still hanging off his leg and gliding on the floor as he walks towards the door for dinner.
"Snow, get off me." He looks down, shiny black hair haloing his accentuated cheekbones. His silver eyes are bored and his pink lips are in a pout. I wanna kiss him, but he won't let me after the prank!
"Bazzy Boo, I won't let you go!" I yell, clasping his muscular calve tighter.
"Alright then, Snow. Enjoy gliding down the stairs." He quips before turning the knob on the door. Fuck him! I quickly stand up, and slam his body against the door, crushing his lips with mine. He moans my name right into my mouth.
I know all his weaknesses.
I know I'm his weakness.
Baz's POV
I like pretending to be angry with him. It's amusing to watch him beg for forgiveness. And it only gets better like this.
His plump pink lips open and his tongue entwines with mine. His hands fly to my belt's buckle, and before I can protest I'm on my hands and knees on my bed, naked. I don't know how he got that fast. . .
Then Simon's tongue dives into my entrance, and the very core of the earth shakes.
Simon's POV
His whole body is trembling, and I take only seconds to roll on a condom and lube him up.
Everything feels so urgent right now. I just want him. So, so bad. I can't control myself.
Then I enter his tight, heavenly bliss, and I feel the weight of the world drift away. It's only him, him, him. And I'm aching for him.
Oh fuck. . .
Baz's POV
Simon's cock slowly pushes in, and planets collide. The stars come crashing down.
And I can feel his throbbing within me. . . And I don't have words to describe such an intimate and pleasurable sensation. Simon is with me.
Simon Snow, Simon Snow, Simon Snow.
He pulls out, and comes crashing back in, like a wave of burning love filling me—this is the one thing he does with grace; he rhythmically swings back in. As if striking the perfect note, to the perfect symphony, he hits my prostate, and the entire world is splintering and shattering in the best way possible.
It's like he's pouring his love and sunlight and magick into me with every thrust—buckets of stars showering down on me. It feels like magick; exploding, bursting stars made of magick.
Simon's POV
I angle my body so that I hit his prostate with every thrust and he looks like he's in heaven. I feel like I'm in heaven, too. I fist his long hair and turn his head a little so that I can see his face, I know he likes his hair being tugged. His silver eyes roll back and he's moaning louder than I've ever heard him moan before.
I love watching him like this.
And I love feeling him like this. He's so vulnerable and perfect and beautiful. He's so honest. There's no holding back.
And he's so, so tight. . . I want to come just from the pressure.
"Baz, I'm close. . ," I whisper, tickling his ear, pulling him closer so that I'm buried deep within him and his spine is arched and yet almost meeting my chest because I've raised him so high using my grip on his hair. He flashes me a gleaming white, breathless smile and orgasms even before I do. Crowley he looks exhausted now that I'm truly looking at him.