➵ Snowbaz Oneshots

My Protector

A/N: if you haven't already, go check out Love Me., the Snowbaz fanfic I just recently began! there is only one chapter so far, but I will continue to write. leave a comment + vote if you like it :)

Baz
—

"Should I just order a pizza?" I ask, raising my voice so that Simon can hear me.

"Yes," he replies. I can hear things being moved around in the other room. "Half pepperoni, please."

"You got it," I say. Simon loves pepperoni. I don't know how, though. I can't stand the taste.

Looking down at my brand-new iPhone, I dial the number to the pizza place and hit the call button. As I'm ordering, Simon walks into the room with a pile of books in his arms. They drop onto the counter with a loud bang. I ignore him, telling the man on the line that I want delivery.

I hang up the phone and walk over to where Simon is standing. His hips are pressed up against the counter and he is looking down at the book before him, lost deep in thought. Coming around behind him, I slide my hands around his waist and fold them protectively over his stomach. I rest my chin on his shoulder, gazing down at the open book in his hands.

"What's this?" I ask, making sure my voice is soft.

Simon takes a deep breath and flips a page. "Just a cooking book," he says. "I think I want to learn how to bake."

"Why? We can just buy cookies and stuff from the store. Or I can just use my magic," I whisper. "Flour."

The pantry door opens and out flies the bag of flour. It lands on the counter next to Simon's book as if it were laughing at him.

"I know we can, but I want to bake something myself. Start a hobby, you know?"

I kiss Simon's soft cheek gently. "But you can't bake if I never let you go," I say.

"I'll find a way," he says, grinning. He turns around in my arms and collides his lips hard against mine. I smile into his kiss, allowing my hands to trail up his back until they hit his wings.

"Oops," I mutter into his mouth. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he rushes, barely moving his lips from mine. I love it when he gets like this. Passionate, fervent, sensual. His hands find the back of my neck, trapping my head into place, keeping me close to him. I'm fine with that. I never want to let him go.

Simon is so precious to me. More important than the air I breathe and the water I drink. He is my everything. Without him, I have no idea what I would do. I would sacrifice anything for him. My magic, my family, even my life. Maybe it's bad to love him as much as I do, but I really can't help it. There's just something about him that draws me in and keeps me there, unable to pull away. Like being trapped, but not in a bad way. Being stuck in a trap that I want to be in.

His tongue is sliding around my mouth, twisting in all sorts of formations. I go along with it. My neck begins to hurt from craning it downward, but it's nothing compared to the pleasantness of Simon's face affixed to mine.

My hands explore his body. Around his chest, down his back, circling around his shoulders. They even go below the hips a bit. When they do, I can feel the muscles in Simon's body hitch for a moment before they relax against me. His kisses become deeper with every passing second.

The door bell rings.

I pull away, out of breath. My eyes meet with Simon's and stay there, transfixed, unable to flicker away for fear of never seeing them again.

"Is that the pizza?" he asks, breaking me from my hypnosis.

"Probably. I'll go get it." I fish my wallet out of my pocket and unfold it, getting ready to pay the delivery man.

Simon and I spend the night eating greasy slices of pizza and chatting by the fireplace. For a moment, we sit hand in hand, gazing into the scintillating fire with tired eyes. Simon's head falls against my shoulder and stays here. Soon enough, I realize that he is asleep.

Careful not to hurt his wings, I lift Simon up and carry him to his bed. He's not too heavy, so it's really no problem lifting him. As I lay him gently on his side, his eyes flutter open, sheening with a sleepy gaze.

"Baz," he groans, shifting slightly. I shush him and pull the covers up to his neck. "Will you sleep with me?"

"I do most nights, don't I?" I ask him, chuckling at his muffled speech. Then I crawl into bed beside him, cuddling with his warm body. I feel cold like I always do, and Simon's skin feels like a raging fire when I touch it.

With my arm draped across Simon's chest, I draw small circles into his lower back, feeling his hot breath on my face as I drift off into a deep sleep.

Simon

—

The gunpoint is cold against my temple, sending shivers down my spine. I am trembling not only because of the icy gun and the chilly air but also because of the fear that's flooding through me, drowning out all other thoughts. My wings are folded tight against my back, but I can't move them. I can't move anything, in fact.

"Don't move," the man above me says, but I can't move, even if I really wanted to.

This is a dream, I realize with a start. None of this can be real. Why would someone want to hold me at gunpoint? Why can't I move, even when I think really really hard to try?

"You think this isn't real? You think it's some silly dream of yours? Think again, buddy," the voice says. I whimper. Maybe it isn't a dream.

My vision swirls around me. Everything is cold and dark. I am sweating, even though the air feels like ice and the gun is against my head and I'm not even moving. My legs begin to ache, and my hands buzz with numbness, but I don't know why. My lungs clog up, and suddenly I feel like I can't breathe. The air is becoming heavy, drowning me with its lead-like weight.

"Shoot him!" a second, more femenine voice shouts.

The gun goes off.

I wake up with a choking gasp, bolting upright. I am drenched in sweat, blazing hot from my head to my toes. Shoving the thick blankets off of me, I rub my face with my hands, trying to relax my hasty breaths.

Baz sits up beside me, his eyes droopy with sleep. "What's wrong, Simon?"

"Nothing. Just a bad dream."

Baz settles back down into bed, curling underneath the covers. I keep the covers off of me — my body is too hot to be under them right now.

I look into the darkness of the room and suddenly feel very queasy. The dream is still fresh in my mind. I can almost feel the nozzle of the gun pushing into my skull.

"Baz?" I whisper, laying back down.

Baz mumbles something incomprehensible. I scoop his arm up with mine and pull it over me like a barrier. His eyes momentarily dance open, and I seize the moment. It's too dark to see much, but the moonlight from the window cascades a pale blue shimmer over his piercing grey eyes. I stare into them. He sees me staring and gives me a seducing smirk.

"Yes?"

"Hold me," I say.

Baz pulls me closer, and I nestle my chin into his muscular chest. His arm tightens around me like a seat belt, holding me in place in case I crash and burn. I curl my wings in as much as I can, and he tries his best to avoid them.

"I love you," I whisper so quietly that I barely hear myself say it, but Baz is already asleep, the rising and falling of his chest slowing to a steady pace. I hold him, keep him, and drift off into a peaceful rest.