➵ Snowbaz Oneshots

Shut Up and Kiss Me

A/N: I just realized that there is going to be a SEQUEL TO CARRY ON!!!! It's called Wayward Son just incase you didn't know about it, and I am super pumped :))

Simon
—

"Baz, what are you saying?"

"Listen to me, Simon. I'm not asking you to become my best friend for life. I just want you to come home with me for Christmas, okay? It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal when you're the Mage's heir and everyone in your entire bloodline wants me dead!" I explain, my words becoming louder with every second.

"They don't want you dead, Simon. They want the Mage dead. There's a difference."

"Not a very big one," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Baz makes a pouty face (which isn't really saying much; Baz has a naturally pouty face) and clutches his wand tighter in his fist. I look down at the stick of wood in his palm. He could use magic against me right now. Not that he would, he really has no reason to. Plus, there is the roommate's anathema, so he won't try to hurt me no matter what. I look to my right and see my wand sitting on my bed, undisturbed. "Simon, please. I really need to find out who killed my mother. You were the one who she visited and, well, I need your help. You are so smart and full of magic... I know you can help me find out who Nicodemus is. Plus, we made a deal."

I roll my eyes. "I know we did, but Baz. You belong to the Pitches, the most vicious line of mages living today. I'd rather stay here all alone than risk being stabbed to death in my sleep by your father or something."

"That's outrageous," he snaps. "My father would never stab you to death."

"Really?"

"Really. You're too valuable."

"Valuable?"

"Too valuable to the Mage. And to us. You have information he could use. Plus, the crazy bastard would probably slaughter my entire family if he found out we had you killed. The Mage cares about you in a way that I can't understand." Baz points a finger up at me — the one that isn't holding the wand. He takes a step closer, his face contorted with frustration.

Taking a deep breath, I rake my fingers through the bouncing curls on my head and look at the ground. Baz's feet take another step closer to me. And then another. When I look back up, his face only inches from mine, and I see the glimmer in his eyes, a layer of want, of need...

A glimmer of desire.

"Come with me." His voice is hard.

"No," I insist, matching my tone with his.

Baz scoffs — as if snapping out of a tired daze — and steps backwards. "You're being a fool. I need you to come with me."

"Why? You know just as much about Nicodemus as I do! What is so important that you actually need me to come with -"

"Shut up!"

His words are laced with a thick coating of magic. Wand raised and pointed at me, Baz narrows his gaze at me. Then, as if he had just realized what he had done, stared at his hand in awe.

My mouth slams shut, and stays shut, like glue was spread on my lips and has sealed them shut. After trying to say something, nothing but breath coming out of my nose, I reach my fingers up to my mouth and try to pull my lips apart. It was a powerful spell — now that I can't speak, I have no way to cast a defensive spell back at Baz. Words are a magician's greatest tool. Without them, a magician is as powerless as a cotton sword.