something more {snowbaz one-shot}

word count: 1075

all credit for quotes and inspiration go to KickThePj (pj ligouri) for his short film 'colour bandits'. it is one of my favorite videos on the internet and you guys should check it out.

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"Sitting before you is not a man, but merely a cracked shell,A shell of the lightest pastels to the darkest hues, Housing burning reds, spirited greens and muted blues, with no motive, reason, or rational behind his ways, Except to desaturate worlds and leave completely unphased, do not be amazed, for Colour Bandits have no morals these days.They'll extract until colour no longer crosses against their path, laughing sweetly as they make luminosity feel their calm, evasive wrath."

baz never was able to keep his hair out of his face; it always fell across his forehead in ebony waves. he'd gotten used to it by now, but on a particularly challenging bout with simon, he had never found it more annoying. simon had never found it more distracting.

okay, that was a lie - he'd often stared at the soft, smooth wave of black standing out against the pale skin of the vampire. he was used to getting lost in the familiar locks. but today, he found the distraction more frustrating than not.

"will you stop saying that, baz?" the boy's shouts filled the otherwise empty room, his gut turning from the situation. "you don't just hurt people! you never have!"

baz' head dropped.

"yes i do. i just suck the happiness and colour from everyone around me. i turn rainbows into shades of grey, hell, the sun would swap for the moon if it was possible. i only ruin lives. i only ruin you."

baz' voice was dangerously quiet, alerting simon to just how serious the situation was. baz was only ever quiet like this when he was sad. it always hurt simon's heart.

"baz, you are not ruining me! you're making me happier, if anything! i love you, you know that!"

"no. you think you love me. you don't know how awful i honestly am. i just wish i didn't love you so goddamned much. then i wouldn't be here, i would've been able to walk away and let you have the life you deserve. one free of vampires and iffy endings." before simon could even open his mouth to speak, baz had whipped around and was leaving the room, the building. it took a moment of trying to choke back the tears before the curly-haired boy collapsed on the bed in sobs. the heaving wracked his entire body, leaving him exhausted by the time he calmed down. he didn't know how to make his boyfriend see that he wasn't ruining his life, but making it better, happier. before simon met baz, he didn't know what he was doing with his life, didn't really know what true happiness was. he was stuck in an endless state of feeling nothing and everything all at once. until he met baz, he barely even knew what he was feeling. now, he knew exactly when he was happy or sad or angry. he knew how to find a feeling and pin it down. he knew how to love, how to avoid hating.

it took roughly ten minutes before simon's sobs quieted to soft sniveling. he wiped his eyes and nose on the bed sheets and stood, realizing he needed to find baz and make him see, make him understand. the boy took one last shaky, deep breath and stepped out of the door and down the stairs. the mummers was a large building with far too many steps for simon's liking - he didn't dislike exercise necessarily, he just didn't like the unnecessary act of having to walk down so many steps. it could really slow you down. stumbling on the last few steps, the boy finally was on ground level and running through the main doors. he knew baz more than anyone, but could he be sure of where he went? simon knew he would go somewhere that was easy to find. (baz didn't like to worry simon.) (he always managed to anyways.)

the catacombs were simon's first thought. so he went there, getting in with just his desire to, he walked through the empty tunnel-like corridors. 

"baz?" he called out. "baz, if you're down here, call out. i'm worried about you, love." his voice was far too desperate in his own ears.

"here." 

simon took a few more turns before finally finding the source of the voice. he found baz sitting in a corner, the door to a tomb a few feet away. simon recognized it as natasha grimm-pitch's grave. baz was sitting next to his mother's grave. the golden-haired boy dropped into a crouch next to his boyfriend, noticing the tear tracks down his cheeks, more tears welling in his eyes. simon placed his hand on baz' face. 

"don't cry, love," his voice was soft and loving. "i'm here now. i'm never going to leave you. i promise."

baz' voice cracked with sorrow and desperation when he spoke, "but i'm not good for you." 

"yes. yes you are. you make me feel right. you make me feel safe and happy and loved. you are not some sort of colour bandit. i love you."

and in that moment, baz thought he might understand what it meant to become something more. the relief of understanding that flooded through him was a feeling he'd never had the pleasure of experiencing before. he'd never even dreamt of being what somebody needed, what somebody needed. this was new. but at the same time, it wasn't. he'd always known - deep down - that simon needed him the same way he was needed by baz. and he couldn't hold back his sob. he couldn't stop the tears from pouring as he looked simon in his eyes (well, as much as his tears would allow him) and felt something more than fear that this would come to an end someday. simon started crying, too, and the two latched their arms around each other, holding on as if they didn't believe the other was real, as if the thought of letting go was just too much. because love was something far stronger than any of the magic either of them. it made simon's fingertips tingle and baz' stomach knot. it made them one. 

" Standing before you is not a man, but an occupied shell, defeated, his mind in a daze his body in a coma, he rests for just a moment drifting slowly in the chroma, and Falls to his already weakened knees and contemplates the sweet relief of becoming something more. More or less."