Snowbaz one shots!

Safe in the dark-part 2

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Simon blinked groggily, his head still nestled against the pillow, the warmth of Baz's body just inches away. For a moment, he didn't move, just relished the feeling of being so close to someone without the usual tension between them.

But as his mind fully awakened, a rush of confusion and self-consciousness hit him. He wasn't sure how long he'd been lying there, wrapped in the comfort of Baz's presence, or how much time had passed since the nightmare. But as the sunlight crept over the edge of the bed, it was clear that he wasn't dreaming anymore. This was real. He had actually fallen asleep in Baz's bed.

And Baz... Baz was still here.

Simon's breath hitched when he realized just how close they were. His face was turned toward Baz's, their noses almost touching, and he could see the faintest lines of exhaustion etched across Baz's sharp features, as though the vampire hadn't slept as soundly as Simon had.

He wasn't sure why, but a small part of him felt guilty. He hadn't intended to make Baz lose sleep over him, but the feeling of safety from last night was still fresh, a balm that soothed the edges of his nerves.

But now that it was morning, now that the shadows of the night were gone, Simon wasn't sure where he stood. He shifted slightly, pulling away just enough so that there was a small gap between them. The space felt strange, too big now, but he didn't dare to go any farther.

He was about to pull the blankets off and get up when he heard a soft groan beside him.

Baz stirred, his eyes fluttering open, a soft hiss of irritation escaping his lips as he blinked into the morning light. The vampire squinted at the window, clearly displeased with the daylight, before his gaze shifted to Simon.

It took a moment for Baz's bleary expression to clear. He looked at Simon, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep, and for a heartbeat, they just stared at each other.

"Morning, Snow," Baz muttered, his voice rough and heavy with sleep. There was no hint of the usual snark or sarcasm, just a soft, sleepy warmth in his tone. His eyes flickered over Simon's face, still a little wary, but not judgmental.

Simon hesitated, trying to decide if he should say something. He wasn't sure how to act—how to feel—about the fact that he'd slept in Baz's bed. After all, they weren't exactly a couple, not in any real sense of the word. He still didn't know how to navigate their strange, complicated dynamic.

"I—uh—" Simon began, his voice awkward as he tried to find the right words. "Sorry if I, you know... bothered you last night. I just—didn't want to be alone."

Baz blinked at him, his expression still unreadable. But then, something shifted in his eyes, a flicker of understanding.

"You didn't bother me, Snow," Baz replied, his voice steady now, as though the night's events were already fading into the past. "You needed someone, and I was here. That's it."

Simon felt a strange warmth spread through him at the simple reassurance. He wasn't used to people being so... matter-of-fact about his vulnerability. Baz's words weren't drenched in pity or awkwardness. They were just honest.

"But..." Simon trailed off, unsure if he should continue. "You didn't have to stay up just because of me. I—"

"Don't start," Baz interrupted, his lips curling into a small, soft smirk. It was the kind of smirk that wasn't mocking, but more resigned, as if Baz was used to Simon's self-deprecating thoughts by now. "It wasn't like I had anything better to do. I'd much rather keep you from losing your mind than sleep through the night like some normal person."

Simon couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm not normal, am I?"

Baz raised an eyebrow, but the smile never left his face. "Definitely not."

The air between them settled into something more comfortable then, and Simon relaxed. He could feel the tension that had lingered since the nightmare beginning to lift. The world outside the window was quiet and peaceful, but in that moment, it was just him and Baz, and for once, it didn't feel like the world was falling apart around him.

A sudden thought crossed Simon's mind, something he hadn't considered before. Something that made his heart flutter nervously.

"Baz..." he started, his voice uncertain. "Do you ever... do you ever get nightmares?"

Baz's eyes shifted for just a second, like he was processing the question. Then he shrugged, though the movement was a little stiff. "I don't sleep like you do, Snow. Vampires don't dream—or have nightmares. We just... exist. But I do remember things, sometimes." He paused, looking away, the hint of something darker in his expression. "But I don't let it bother me."

Simon nodded slowly, processing the answer. He knew Baz was trying to keep things light, but there was something in the vampire's tone that made Simon ache for him, just a little. He didn't ask more. Baz would talk if he wanted to.

Instead, Simon shifted so that his shoulder lightly brushed against Baz's. It was small, unintentional, but it felt like a way to bridge the gap between them without saying anything.

Baz didn't pull away, but his gaze flickered briefly down to Simon's arm. The smallest of smiles touched his lips again, like he was trying to keep himself from giving anything away. But Simon caught it, the way Baz seemed... content, if only for a moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Baz asked quietly, almost reluctantly, his eyes meeting Simon's. "Your nightmare, I mean."

Simon hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to go over the details—the darkness, the voices, the feeling of magic slipping through his fingers. It had felt so real, so terrifying, but it was already fading, now that he was awake and in Baz's presence.

But Baz was offering to listen. And Simon wasn't used to that.

"I don't think I need to," Simon said, his voice soft. "I'm... okay now."

Baz simply nodded, his eyes warm with understanding. "Good. Then just sleep if you need to. I'll be here."

It was strange how easily Baz seemed to accept everything Simon had thrown his way. The vulnerability, the rawness of it all. Simon wasn't used to people letting him in without expecting something in return. But Baz... Baz wasn't asking for anything. Not even an apology.

They stayed like that for a long time, the space between them comfortable and warm. Simon felt a sense of peace that he hadn't expected, and when Baz shifted closer to him again, just enough for their shoulders to touch, Simon didn't pull away.

He didn't need to. Not anymore.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Simon let himself close his eyes, the warmth of Baz's presence soothing him back into a light, peaceful sleep.