Chamber by Chamber // Snowbaz

Soft Punk Husbands

COC #21: Pastel/Punk

Baz and Simon get invited to a special kind of party.

~ Half dead as I write this, so not my best. Bad case of writers block! But enjoy, nonetheless! ~

*Baz's POV*

I've never considered myself to be unnecessarily grandiose or dramatic; but fuck it all to hell if seeing Simon as a pastel bloke hasn't got me a right hard-on. For some reason unbeknownst to me, Penny and Shepherd are hosting a pastel/punk party at their flat. I was adamant on not going, but Simon (as with every other bloody thing in our life) convinced me that it would be 'fun'. For fucks' sake, sometimes I wonder what his definition of fun is. I argued as much as I kid; said that we didn't have a bloody babysitter for Natasha. He said he'd take care of it. (And he did- I suppose I can't say he's never organized.)

So now Natasha is over at the sitters' and Simon Snow Grimm-Pitch is standing in front of me looking like a right poof. (I might be seeing stars.) His bronze curls are perfectly tousled in a neat nest on top of his head, and the outfit he chose brings out his (extra)ordinary blue eyes. He has a soft pink jumper on (which is much too large on him- it only adds to the aesthetic, I'm afraid) with teal trousers. I was right baffled when he brought them home for the party. Turns out, I was wrong. (About it all.) If I had known he'd look like this, I'd have been more agreeable much quicker.

He stops in his tracks in front of me and smiles a bashful smile. "What? Have I got something on me?" I shake my head and stand, tugging him closer by the end of his jumper sleeves.

"Nothing at all, love." I smile into his curls and he nuzzles into my shoulder a bit before pulling back.

"Are you going to get ready?" We've got to leave in-"

"Ten minutes. I know, Snow. You forget; I'm nothing if not punctual." I plant a kiss on the mole on his neck and go to our room to get changed. He tries to follow me in, but I stop him with a smirk. (If he follows me in, we'll never make it to the party on time.) (Perhaps not at all.)

I pull my hair into a bun and make sure my stubble looks relatively tame. I was going to shave, but I've had the feeling lately that Simon likes it a bit, but won't admit it. (The way I like his tail- it does things it very bloody well shouldn't to me.) I pull on the ripped-to-hell black jeans with a chain hanging from the pocket and maneuver my way into a shirt that sports the words 'fuck the system'. To top it all off, I slip on the black leather jacket (which has too many zippers- what could the uses possibly be?) and combat boots that Simon made me get. I feel apprehensive as I put a ring of eyeliner around my eyes, but as I walk into the room, the reaction I get from Simon makes me feel immediately better.

*Simon's POV*

Crowley, damn it all to bloody hell. I've been married to this man for five years and had a daughter with him, but he never ceases to take my breath away every single day. I look at him, top to bottom. (His stubble is doing sinful fucking things to me. Good thing Natasha is out tonight or she'd be face to face with her father's erection.)

I'm so tongue tied, in fact (more than usual, that is), that I can only get a few stuttering words out when my gaze falls onto his trousers. "Baz, you're- you're wearing jeans." He chuckles and takes a step closer to me. (His eyes; he should wear eyeliner more often.)

"Astutely observed, Snow." As he comes closer, I slip my hands into one of the (many) pockets of his jacket and tug him closer. He leans down and firmly presses his lips to mine, and my mouth happily opens to let him. Every kiss is like the first- hungry, comforting, passionate. Safe. He feels like home. (After all those years, to have finally found a home and a family was something of a bloody miracle.)

"You look really, um. Er- really good, Baz." He smirks and raises an eyebrow. (His eyebrow isn't the only thing being raised.) (To be fair, I think we're even now- I saw a tent of his own when I walked out in my clothes.)

"And you look cozy, Snow," He places one more kiss on the top of my head before grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the door. "Ready to go?" I nod my head eagerly and we step into the cold air of Manchester.

"I'm right excited to see Penny and Shepherd. It's been too long!"

"We saw Bunce and Shep just yesterday, you moron." I huff a laugh at him and roll my eyes. He still insists on calling Penny 'Bunce' even though 1. She changed her last name after marrying Shepherd (although she swore she wouldn't) and 2. They've been friends for years now.

"But I want to see little Trixie!" (I gave Penny a lot of bloody hell for naming her daughter after her roommate whom she 'hated'. She said she 'wasn't that bad' and she 'just liked the name'. But really, I think once Trixie passed away three years ago, Penny still had a soft spot for her.)

"Well Snow, we saw her yesterday, too. And she won't be there, either. Shepherd's Normal friend is babysitting her." I sigh in defeat as I climb into the passenger seat of Baz's car. But instead of pulling out of the lot of our flat, he stays sat staring at me.

"Are we going to go?" I ask. (I wonder for a brief moment if he's okay- sometimes we get this way for a bit. Like things are too much. We just have to wait it out.) But he smiles at me instead and reaches into the back seat, producing a bag when he comes back up.

"You're missing something, love," He pulls a flower crown (a gorgeous fucking flower crown- blue and purple and soft pink) from the bag and sets it gently on top of my head. "Much better." I laugh and reach for the small bag resting gently against my foot and take the fake piercings from it.

"I thought you could use some of these, too." Sometimes I think he'll make my heart burst.

"Aw, you shouldn't have!" He laughs his breathy laugh as I carefully put on the nose ring and eyebrow piercings. (I've never been more content.)

He blushes. "Thank you very much, my pastel prince." My soft punk husband.

"You're so very welcome. Let's go see Shep and Penny now, yeah?" I lean over to kiss him on his temple. Even after all these years, my heart still flutters when our skin meets.

"Yeah." He smiles one last time- so brightly, with so much content, I can't help but feel lucky that I get him for the rest of my life.

It's also a plus that he looks very, very good as a punk. (Penny should throw more of these parties...)