Five days of Snowbaz fluff (oneshots)

Day 2 (year 6, in which Simon comes back drunk)

Baz sat on his bed reading a book on the middle ages influence on magic when he heard a thud at the door. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and moved towards the door. Suddenly the door flung open, Simon stumbled in.

"Hey, Baz...," Simon said slurring his words.

Baz smirked. Simon Snow, The Chosen One, Golden Boy, was completely pissed and giggling. He was going to have a field day with this.

"Snow, fun night at the pub?" Baz asked sarcastically.

"mmmmhhhhmmm," Simon hummed, his smile was silly and cute. "I need... tired," he giggled.

"Right," Baz said already helping Simon to bed, " an early night then. You're going to hate yourself for this tomorrow, you know."

Simon laughed. 

After Simon was safely in bed and in no danger of falling out the window Baz lay down in his own bed and turned off the light.

"Baz, I'm really drunk," Simon said, Baz could hear his smile.

"No shit sherlock," Baz whispered back.

"Hey, Baz, can I tell you something?" Simon asked.

"Will me saying no stop you?"

"No."

Baz rolled his eyes and sighed.

Simon started talking in a sleepy voice, "I don't want to be the mage's heir anymore... I wanna be a regular magic guy... ANd I want to not fight you... ya."

Baz was quiet, he didn't want to fight Simon either.

"Baz? Can I tell you something else?"

"I can't stop you."

"I hate the mage... and sometimes I hate the whole world of mages, but there are three things that I never hate because I love them," Simon managed through a heavy slur.

Baz was shocked, Simon always took the mages side ever since he was 11, five years of battling the mage's wars and all of a sudden complete revolt, anarchy, treason.

Simon stood up and stumbled to Baz's bed. he flopped onto his back at the end of the bed and held up one finger.

"Number one, Penelope..." Simon put up a second finger as Baz watched, amused.

"Number two, magic." I LoVe magic, I hate the clusterfuck it causes but I love magic.

Baz nodded sympathetically, he felt the same way. Simon put up a third finger

"And number threeeee is you... Baz." Simon giggled and propped himself up on his elbows and looked at Baz.

Baz blushed. He didn't even know he could blush. Simon continued looking at him with an adorable grin. Baz's fangs popped. 

Simon gasped, "Oh you have pretty fangs..." Simon cooed, he sat up and put his hands on Baz's cheeks, "pretty..."

Baz pulled away. 

"Simon," Baz said gently, "you're drunk, you won't even remember this in the morning."

"Okay," Simon curled up at the end of Baz's bed.

Baz barely slept that night, he couldn't relax with the boy he'd been pining after for years drunk and passed out at the end of his bed.

The next morning Baz was sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed waiting for Simon to wake up. He had been thinking all night about Simon's list of things he loved, he was on Simon's list, did that mean Simon loved him? Simon stirred slightly. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked around confused before rubbing his eyes.

"Baz?" he said hesitantly.

"Snow."

"You called me Simon last night," his voice rough from alcohol.

Baz looked down at the bed sheets.

"Do you remember much of last night?" Baz asked quietly.

"I may have been drunk enough to say stupid things but I wasn't drunk enough to forget them," Simon said with a tired sigh. 

Baz looked up and said, "you didn't mean those things?" 

"I said they were stupid to say not that I didn't mean them," Simon said frustrated. 

Baz grabbed Simon's hand, he pulled four of Simon's fingers out.

"Number four sour cherry scones, You forgot that one last night," Baz said.

Simon laughed. Baz was still holding Simon's hand when Simon leaned forward and put his forehead on Baz's shoulder.

"number five," Simon whispered, "not fighting.