Chamber by Chamber // Snowbaz

Goodnight Kiss

Otp Prompt #3: Baz can't control his urges anymore

I love him so much it hurts. I came down to the catacombs tonight to get away from the bloody idiot. He sleeps with his shirt off. With his shirt off. I knew that. I've shared a room with the git for seven and a half years. But tonight was different. He took off his shirt, readying himself for bed as per usual. And then he decided it would be a great fucking idea to practice his sword fighting form on my side fo the room.

He just does it to annoy me- I know that. I know that. But jesus, it was like he was actively trying to turn me on. (It worked by the way. Part of the reason I had to leave was because I was having a little problem). (Big problem is more accurate). He would jab forward and spin around, the sweat collecting on his back and shoulders. I was just trying to read my book and not notice how much I wanted to tackle and bite him. And then lick off the blood. And then kiss him.

"Snow, could you please try not to be irritating for just five minutes?" I forced my voice to come out hard as stone. I was trying not to swoon.

In answer, he simply did another move and nearly cut himself in the process.

"Come spar with me, Baz. I could use the practice and I don't have any other person to train with," I was surprised that he was asking me to help him. I lifted an eyebrow in response. "I have an extra sword. Don't be a git, just spar with me for ten minutes, and then I'll leave you alone." I groaned and reluctantly got out of bed. He tossed me his extra sword and it was heavy in my hands. I lunged forward and he blocked it easily. I was always better with a wand, and him a sword. I tried distracting him. Lord did that backfire.

"Go on, Snow. Work a little harder, you bloody git. I can't be better at sword fighting, too." I sneered and lunged forward. He stepped aside.

"Too?" He inquired as he tried maneuvering around me.

"Yes. I'm better at magic. Better at girlfriend stealing. Better at kissing, I'm sure. Why else would Agatha prefer me?" He let his guard down for a fraction of a second so I leaned forward and knocked the sword out of his hands.

"You didn't kiss her, you bastard." He rolled to pick up his sword.

"Perhaps not. But if I had, I'm sure she would've found it much more satisfactory," We circled around each other and I could feel magic rolling off of Snow in waves. But he was surprisingly controlled.

"You really think you're a better kisser than me?" I made an mhmm sound. He shoved me, catching me off guard. We were sparring intentionally, so the anathema didn't kick in. He knocked the sword out of my hand and shoved me up against the wall. He put the blade of the sword under my chin and looked me right in the eyes. My 'problem' was getting worse. I was praying he hadn't noticed. "Then why don't you prove it?"

Soon thereafter, I practically ran down to the catacombs, saying I needed to meet someone. He didn't question me, although he did look rather confused. I wonder if he could see both the fear and arousal in my eyes when he asked me to prove it. What did he mean by that? Like he wanted me to kiss him? Surely not. He's Simon bloody Snow. Straight as a fucking line... right?

I've emptied nearly all of the male rats down in the catacombs, and it's becoming clear I need to go back to the room sometime soon. That doesn't mean I can't take my time, though. I drag my feet the entire way there. I know I need to do something to feel better about this. If I don't do something about this Snow thing, I will die. It will kill me. I have to do something other than trying to wank it off. (Tried and momentarily relieved, by the way. But I need something that lasts longer. One thought of his blue eyes and I'm immediately putty).

When I finally get to the Mummers house, my stomach is so tied up and my head is foggy. Walking into our room, I see that Simon- still shirtless by the way- is laying on his bead and softly snoring. How can I be so madly in love with this bloody train wreck? I move silently to the side of his bed, near his head. Looking down at him, my heart warms. His perfect bronze curls and his moles. Oh his moles. I want to kiss each and every one individually and tell them each why I love them.

I'm certain he's really fast asleep so I lean down to kiss him on the cheek. Just a ghost of a kiss. A whisper. I'm so close to his cheek that I can feel the heat radiating off of him. But just as my lips touch his skin, he turns his head, and I get his lips instead. He startles awake and I jump back, flushing furiously. Those damn rats. I'm just glad the lights are off so he can't see.

He stares at me silently, sitting up on the edge of his bed. I watch him as he stands up. And my feet are planted even as he makes his way toward me. We stay there, just standing in the middle of our room. He looks at me with his eyes bluer than the skies (cliche, I know) and I feel something coming. He's either going to punch me or kill me. Either way, the anathema will kick him out. Maybe I'll kiss him before he sends me flying. Maybe I'll die kissing Simon Snow.

Then he kisses me. He grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls me in, tenderly pressing his lips to mine. And it's even better than I had ever imagined. I do the things I've been wanting to do for seven and a half years. I kiss his cheek like I had planned on initially. Who would've thought it would have led to something so much better? I kiss his nose, his forehead, his eyelids. His moles. I love him. And I'm pretty sure he loves me too.

My heart is finally at peace.