Micah and I take the kids out trick-or treating, leaving Penny and Baz to mind the door and the bowl of sweets. Once their plastic buckets are full, and Lulu starts to cry because her feet hurt, and Kieran starts to cry because Lulu's crying, we decide it's time to take them back. When we do, Baz and I kiss Tasha and Lulu goodnight, make them promise to be good for their godparents, and take their sweets out to the car with us with the promise to keep them safe until they get home. And then we're back in the car, Baz's hands loosely gripping the steering wheel.
In the half-darkness of the car, he really does look like a Normal vampire. I shrink my wings with half a thought before reaching over to tug on the ends of his hair. It's so black it's darker than the clouded night sky outside. Basilton, you've got a void attached to your head.
"You can let your fangs back in, Baz," I say softly. Baz clenches his jaw in the way that he does when he's getting rid of his fangs.
"Thanks," He replies. We pull into the garage, deciding to leave our stuff in the car until morning. It's cold enough outside that none of the girls' candy will melt. I follow Baz to the door that'll let us inside the house. Without the girls, the place feels almost too quiet.
I'm only quiet because I'm trying to decide on the best way to snog my husband (I have too many good options). My imagination goes wild, thinking of all the ways I could take him right here, right now. I think Baz realises this, because he smirks knowingly at me and saunters over to the couch, purposefully swinging his hips as he goes. Aleister Crowley, I love his ass in jeans...
Baz sits down, turning on the television to see what's on. BBC's playing an old silent movie about a vampire-- Nosferatu. Draping his arm across the back of the couch, Baz gracefully reclines there, watching the movie.
My plan falls into place. I know how I'm gonna do it (well, him).
As nonchalantly as I can manage (which isn't very), I walk over and slide behind him on the couch. At first, I prop my chin on his shoulder, fingers trailing across his back as I pretend to be interested in the film. A few minutes later, I (sneakily) pull his hair away from his neck, pressing my lips to the soft grey skin there. I feel a small shiver run up Baz's spine, making me smile as I work my lips down to the collar of the back of his shirt. Inch by inch, I pull the fabric away, kissing over to his shoulder. A satisfying, soft sigh escapes his lips as I do, which I take as an invitation to continue. Wrapping my arms around Baz's waist, I tug up on his shirt, exposing his stomach and lower back.
"Lift your arms," I murmur, pressing my lips to his ear. Baz grins, doing as I ask. Slowly, I pull the shirt over his head, my lips following its progress along his smooth skin. Gooseflesh rises on his arms and I smirk at him.
"Cold?" I tease.
"A bit." He knows what I'm playing at. I drift back down to the base of his neck, leaving a mark there, letting my teeth graze the skin.
"I can fix that for you," I whisper. Baz grins, showing all those deadly teeth. Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like if he bit me. I bite him, instead, softly, my teeth tugging at his earlobe.
"Oh, so you're allowing flirtation now?" He teases. I push my fingers through his slicked-back hair, messing it up.
"Kids aren't home," I press a kiss to the point of his widow's peak hairline, "The rules are different." Baz shifts in his seat so he's facing me, his hands on my chest. My skin heats up where he touches me, and I don't want him to stop. Leaning forward, Baz kisses my jaw.
"Okay then, Simon fix me right up. Only not on the couch. I may have a habit of marrying scruffy-looking supermages, but I still have some standards." I laugh, brushing my lips against his ever so slightly.
"Who are you calling scruffy-looking?" If there's one thing I love about Baz, it's that he's the biggest fucking Star Wars fan I've ever met (okay, I'm maybe a very close second).
I waste no time in grabbing his hand, pulling him through the living room in the direction of our room. Halfway there, his lips collide with mine, hungry and demanding and all-consuming. Then my back connects with the wall outside the bedroom, and Baz is pinning me there, kissing me like it's the end of the world, his mouth hot and wet and needy against mine.
"What do you want, Chosen One?" He murmurs. I'm reminded, for a moment, of when he was missing in Eighth year. A dryad in the Wavering Wood (honestly, fuck the Wavering Wood) said similar words to me (what do you seek, Chosen One?) when I asked her where Baz was. Baz is here now, pressing against me, kissing me vehemently with one hand in my hair and the other on my stomach.
"You," I reply without hesitation, "Aleister Crowley, you."
-----------------------
And so it begins.
Sorry for the long wait-- I was having trouble feeling inspired for this scene. But I found my muchness again by realizing that all the greatest love scenes I've written have been written at 1:00 in the morning. So here I am, at 1 AM, writing Snowbaz steam.
Hope I didn't fuck it up too badly!
-Lefty
P.S.
My sister and I started watching Hannibal, and OH MY GOD I'M ADDICTED. 11/10, do recommend.
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All That We Are Is Who We Must Be
Fanfic{PREVIOUS FICS IN THE SERIES: ALL THAT WE ARE, IF YOU MUST. THIS IS THE FINAL FIC IN THE TRILOGY} Baz and Simon have been married for ten years. It's been ten years since Baz was kidnapped by the Enenra, ten years since they fought a giant, wyrm-lik...
