Snowbaz one shots!

A kiss in the rain

It was a rainy afternoon in New York City, the kind of downpour that turned sidewalks into rivers and made everything look slick and shiny, even the most mundane things. The hustle and bustle of the city was just as relentless as it had been when they first arrived a few days ago, but this particular moment felt different. Simon and Baz had just finished a long day of sightseeing. Penny and Agatha had wandered off to some museum, leaving the two of them to wander the streets of Manhattan alone.

Baz was the one who wanted to see the city, the one who'd begged Simon to come with him when their trip to America had been arranged. Simon, ever the reluctant traveler, had agreed only because Baz had promised it would be an "adventure" and, as always, Simon couldn't resist when Baz said something like that. It had been a strange trip so far—different from the usual tension-filled encounters at Watford, but also filled with a simmering undercurrent of something Simon couldn't quite name.

They'd had their moments, like when they'd argued over the best pizza place (Simon, predictably, had won), and when Baz had pulled him into a dance in the middle of a crowded street just to watch Simon squirm. And then there was the quiet, comfortable strolls, the occasional hand brushes, the laughter that felt too real to be anything but the truth.

But that afternoon, something unexpected happened.

They were standing at the edge of a busy intersection, waiting for the light to change. Baz was staring up at the rain-soaked skyline, lost in the view as Simon absentmindedly checked his phone, making sure they hadn't missed a message from Penny or Agatha. The air felt thick, charged with something Simon couldn't place.

That was when it happened.

A guy—a stranger—approached them. Simon didn't think much of it at first, assuming he was just another tourist or passerby in the storm. But when the man reached Baz, he didn't just stop to ask for directions or make small talk.

He leaned in. Right there, under the umbrellas and the chaos of the city.

Simon watched in stunned silence as the man kissed Baz.

It wasn't a peck, either. No, it was a full, lingering kiss, something that was done without hesitation, as if the stranger had been thinking about it the entire time they'd been standing there.

For a split second, Simon couldn't move. His mind, normally so quick to react, went blank. He watched as Baz froze, eyes wide in surprise. It was the briefest moment of stillness, but for Simon, it felt like an eternity.

And then Baz pushed the man away, hard.

"Oi!" Baz growled, wiping his mouth as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. His eyes narrowed, and he shot a glare at the man, who was already backing off, looking sheepish.

"You should've asked first, mate," Baz spat, clearly furious. "But even then, I'd say you're barking up the wrong tree."

The man muttered something half-apologetic before disappearing into the crowd, clearly realizing he'd crossed a line.

For a moment, everything was quiet. Simon stood frozen, staring at Baz, who was wiping his lips again, as though trying to get rid of the sensation. But it wasn't the kiss that was making Simon's heart beat so loudly in his chest. It was something else, something deeper.

Baz turned to Simon, who was still standing there, unable to speak. Baz's expression was a mix of irritation and mild confusion, like he couldn't understand why Simon was so still, so quiet.

"Are you—" Baz began, but Simon was already turning away, the anger simmering beneath his skin, spreading fast. It burned.

Simon couldn't stop himself. He spun on his heel, storming down the street, the rain hitting his face in sharp, stinging droplets. He didn't know why he was angry. He didn't know why he felt this sudden, overwhelming urge to run.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He could hear Baz's footsteps behind him, but Simon refused to slow down. He didn't want to face Baz right now. Not when his head was a mess of jealousy and confusion.

"Simon!" Baz's voice cut through the rain, sharp and insistent. "Wait! Will you just—?"

But Simon was already moving faster, ignoring the call. He didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to feel like this—like the world had suddenly flipped upside down and everything he thought he knew had fallen apart. But the reality was, that kiss had done something to him. Something he couldn't explain.

Finally, Baz caught up with him, grabbing Simon's arm and spinning him around to face him.

"Are you insane?" Baz snapped, his anger matching Simon's, but there was something else there—worry, maybe. "I didn't ask for that. You know that, right?"

"I know!" Simon barked, his voice rougher than he intended. "I know, okay? But why did he—why did he just—?"

He stopped himself. He couldn't even finish the sentence. The jealousy was bubbling up inside him now, hot and uncomfortable, and it left him speechless.

Baz's eyes softened, the anger in them slowly receding. "You're mad, aren't you?"

Simon swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I don't know why I'm mad. I don't even know why I care."

Baz didn't say anything at first. His eyes searched Simon's face, reading him in a way that Simon always found unsettling, but right now, it felt like Baz was trying to reach through the wall Simon had built around himself.

"Because you care, Snow," Baz said quietly, almost gently. "You care more than you want to admit."

Simon felt the air leave his lungs. Baz had always been able to see right through him, but this was different. This was the first time that Simon was scared of the truth Baz might see in him.

"I..." Simon began, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn't know how to say it. Not like this. Not with the storm swirling around them, both literal and emotional.

Baz took a step closer, his voice quieter now. "It's okay, you know. You don't have to hide it. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm not hiding anything," Simon muttered, though he knew it was a lie. The knot in his chest told him everything he needed to know.

Baz raised an eyebrow, his smirk making its usual appearance. "Right. Well, if you're going to pretend to be the world's biggest idiot, I'm going to have to kiss you again to prove that I'm not interested in other people."

Simon's heart thudded in his chest, and before he could think, Baz had pulled him close, hands gentle but insistent as their lips met in a kiss that was soft at first, searching.

And just like that, everything in Simon's world fell into place.

He'd been jealous. So jealous. And he hadn't wanted to admit it because, deep down, he was terrified of what it meant. But in that moment, as Baz kissed him in the middle of the rain, Simon realized something he'd known all along: he couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching Baz like that. Because Baz was his.

And maybe, just maybe, Baz had always been his.

When they pulled away, Simon's heart was still racing, but the anger had faded. The jealousy, too, was dissipating, replaced with something warm, something that made him feel like everything was right in the world.

Baz was smiling, a smirk that softened with affection. "Still mad?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

Simon chuckled softly, his cheeks still warm from the kiss. "Not anymore."

"Good," Baz said, looking up at the rain with a small smile. "Because I don't think I could put up with your sulking for much longer."

"Maybe next time," Simon teased, "you can give me a little warning before some random guy kisses you, huh?"

Baz laughed softly, leaning in close. "I'll think about it."

And for the first time that day, as the rain soaked through their clothes and the city bustled around them, Simon felt at peace.