Shirt-Snowbaz

Simon never took his shirt off. Not once. "After 7 years of sleeping in the same room, you still can't believe me?" muttered Baz regretfully. "I've had a crush on you for seven years and you can't let me see you without a shirt. You change when I'm in the shower, get dressed for the day before I'm up, and you won't even make eye contact. Seven years Snow,"

"This is different," Simon whispers, clenching his teeth.

Baz can feel the tension and see his jaw working, but he can't help but grumble "You never wore a shirt at school either,"

Simon sighs regretfully, running his hands through his curls."What do you want from me Baz?"

"I-"

"What. Do. You. Want." And Simon's words are so powerful that Baz swears its magic, but it can't be. Simon's still just as Normal as he was last week, and nothing's going to change that. But his words tongue tie Baz as easy if it was.

"I..." he stutters, cursing his tongue for twisting up in his mouth, because Pitches are never lost for words, especially not for BOYS, never mind how pretty they may be.

"Is this just a cover up for something?" An accusation. "You know I don't have a good looking body." A lie. "I hate myself," A cracked voice and an unfortunate truth."

"Snow. You know that's wrong."If he cursed his tongue before, it's worse now, because his words trip off like he's trying to light a fire.

"You called me Simon before," a broken whisper, he forms the words in his mouth before he lets them grace the air, Baz is breaking.

"Simon-sweetheart- you know that's wrong,"

"You just say that because you love me,"

"I adore you Simon. But that's not why I said it,"

"Prove it,"

And Baz is pressing him up against the wall, standing on his tiptoes so he can be eye to eye with him and his mouth is against Simon's and he whispers "you're beautiful," He hears Simon's quiet gasp as his lips move down the three moles on his cheek and chuckles "you're gorgeous," the two behind his ear "absolutely lovely," and down his neck. And he's hoping Simon gets it now- Alister Crowley, the bloody idiot he is- as he runs his hands up his shirt and across Simon's stomach with softly defined muscles. "Flawless," he quips. He goes to lift it and Simon looks at him with fogged over eyes and grabs at Baz's hand.

"I can't. You know that,"

Baz sighs and whispers "burn baby burn", effectively making Simon immune, flicking his wrist on his hand that's still gripping Simon's, and burns off his shirt.

And there it is. Snow in all his glory, pale and shaking, -and Baz hates to admit what comes to mind-but it does and suddenly he's kissing him everywhere and Simon's exhales are choppy and-

"God. I love you. I love you so much Simon. You're so beautiful," he breathes and he sees Simon bite his lip. Simon tangles his hands in Baz's hair and tugs him up to meet his lips again and they tumble over each other through the flat and can't make it anywhere fast enough.

"You're amazing love," They're lying in his bed and Simon's wrapped his arm around Baz and Baz is leaning on his- now definitely shirtless- chest. "I may have to burn all your shirts if this is what happens."

"I don't necessarily want them burnt,"

"Then keep them off,"

It's safe to say that Simon never wears a shirt in the flat again, much to Penelope's disgust.