If You Must

All That We Are is Ready

Simon

"Yes! Yes, Baz!" A sheen of sweat covers Baz's pale arms as he lowers himself down, those wicked sharp canines bared in a growl. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail, loose strands sticking to the sweat on his neck.

"Simon..." He pants, the muscles in his back and shoulders bunching up. Crowley, it's sexy.

"Go, go, go! Right there!" I urge, not tearing my eyes  away from him. Baz's arms begin to shake as he gets lower, lower...

And then pushes himself back up, finishing his last push-up.

I let out a cheer and tackle him in a hug, kissing his damp cheek. It's his last day of physical therapy for his arm; a day we've been waiting for for months. All that's left of the injury given to him by the Enenra is a splotchy, pale scar about the size of my palm (and newly well-muscled arms, which are an added bonus). Most days, I'll do his exercises with him, but today... today is Baz's. His victory. I'm just here for moral support-- to see him through to the end.

Baz lets out a breathy laugh, sagging against the floor. I don't let go of him.

"I did it," He breathes incredulously. Grinning, I squeeze his hand.

"I always knew you would. And now that you're finally done... you know what that means..." I feel my cheeks heat up, my heart pounding wildly against my sternum. I wonder if he can hear it. Wonder if he's as excited as I am for the change our lives are about to undertake.

"Ice cream?" He asks hopefully. Laughing, I cuff him over the head.

"You're a twat, Basilton," I reply.

He knows what I meant. Now that he's done with physical therapy (and therefore no longer using a sling or a brace for his arm), we can finally (finally) get on with our wedding. We haven't even really started planning it yet-- I didn't want him to feel too rushed with his arm and hurt himself again. But now his arm is back to normal, and we don't have to wait any longer.

"What," Baz fake-pouts, "You don't want ice cream?" I cross my arms, glaring down at him while trying not to laugh. He glares right back up at me, mirth sparkling in those quicksilver eyes.

He wins the staring contest.

"Fine," I admit, grinning from ear to ear, "I want ice cream. Get up, you git." Chuckling, Baz stands up, reaching behind him for his shirt. Then he leans in close to me, lips brushing just below my ear. The warmth of his breath against my skin sends shivers up my spine.

"You're paying," He whispers. Before I can react, Baz runs off in the direction of the locker rooms.

Twat.

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A/N:

I'm back, bitches! How'd you like the (*ahem* rather suggestive) first chapter? Man, it feels good to be writing Snowbaz again.

In case anyone reading this is confused, this is the sequel to a different fic I wrote called 'All That We Are'. I definitely recommend reading that one first, as parts of this fic won't make as much sense without it (for instance, the reason why Baz is doing PT for his arm is explained in All That We Are). To those of you who aren't confused, welcome back!

Enjoy, Everyone!

-Lefty

P.S.

I don't think I'll write any actual smut— there will be fluff, and some implied sexy times, but no actual writing out of the sex scenes. To be perfectly frank, I don't have enough experience in that area to have confidence in my ability to write good, non-cringeworthy smut. It's simply a matter of "writing what I know". Sorry if you guys were banking on there being some nice bodice-ripping scenes!