My Better Half (Sequel to My Cup of Tea)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Simon felt like a proper idiot in this outfit, but the slight smile on Baz's face as he admired his "handiwork" was all Simon needed to determine that this outfit, no matter how posh and ridiculous, was a good choice for the night. They were going to some club or another and Simon was incredibly nervous for it all. He was nervous for the dancing, nervous for the drinking, nervous for his leg, and nervous for Baz and Penny and the idea of this strange double date. He'd told Baz he was nervous in every way short of actual speech, so Baz had put his hand gently on Simon's shoulder and told him that he'd help him get ready. 

And now that Simon was ready, he was nervous all over again. 

"You look gorgeous," Baz said, coming up behind him in the mirror and wrapping his arms around Simon's waist. 

"I look like a knob," Simon argued with a frown. "It's too...I'm not this posh."

Baz rolled his eyes. "Stop thinking about it. Aren't you supposed to be the one who doesn't think in this relationship? You look amazing."

Simon couldn't help but smile at that. 

When they got to the club, it was noisy and loud and crowded and Simon felt a bit like he was suffocating in the sea of people. He looked around nervously, cutting his eyes across the dark space. There were moving bodies everywhere. There was grinding and singing and slow, purposeful movements across the dance floor. Everyone was smiling, their teeth shining white in the lights that glided over them. Baz, who must have noticed Simon's nerves coming in full force, put his hand on Simon's back which sent a tingle down Simon's spine. 

"Drinks!" Penny cheered, turning to them. "What's everyone want? First round's on Micah!"

Micah rolled his eyes, but he had a smile on his face. 

"Whiskey," Baz said. "Neat." 

Penny nodded and turned to Simon. 

"I––" 

The urge to turn to a nice, cold glass of cider was overwhelming. "Smirnoff Ice?" 

Baz frowned at him and opened his mouth to protest, but Penny was already off like a rocket to the bar to put the order in.

"What are you, Snow? A teenage girl?" 

Simon shrugged. He wanted something sweet and not too strong. He wanted to keep his wits about him so he could keep a close eye on his leg to make sure that he wasn't pushing himself. He wanted to dance with Baz––God, he wanted to dance with Baz––but he didn't want to hurt himself in the process. When he looked at the dance floor, he saw a pair of blokes grinding on each other, their bodies moving smooth and languidly against each other like they had rehearsed this for hours on end. It was so perfect and flawless and it made Simon's stomach clench to see it because he knew that, if he tried to do that with Baz, his movements would be choppy and abrupt and decisively not sexy. 

"Care for a dance?"

Simon shook his head. "I think––I'll just sit. For a bit. You should go, though. Dance with Penny and Micah. Have fun, yeah?" 

Baz looked him over like he was trying to figure out if there was some hidden meaning in there, but after a moment he gave up and went to go join the horde of people on the dance floor. 

Simon found himself alone and stumbling over towards an empty booth to rest up, trying to build up the courage to dance. He sat there for a few minutes before Penny came by and handed him his Smirnoff before she went off to dance with Micah towards the edge of the mob. He'd lost sight of Baz after a few minutes, but he knew that it meant that Baz had just gotten into the middle of the floor and that he was having a good time. So Simon watched everyone having fun for a bit, trying not to show that he was as miserable as he was. He took another swig of his drink and stared at the dance floor, trying to find Baz. 

Then he spotted him somewhere near the outer ring of the middle crowd. There was another bloke trying to dance with him and Baz didn't seem to be completely against it. Simon felt rage and jealously bubble up inside of him, somewhere deep in his core. Baz looked bloody perfect, of course, even in this crappy establishment. His hair was loose around his face and his eyes glinted in the strange lighting (some combination between far too dim and far too fucking bright with the multi-colored LEDs) and the other bloke was there for it. So Simon did the sort of thing that he was used to––he turned his brain off. He shut his thoughts off, downed the rest of his drink, and made his way towards Baz on the dance floor to show this stupid, frumpy guy that Baz was fucking his. 

Baz looked almost relieved but also quite surprised to see Simon charging towards him. Simon ignored the pain in his leg with each stomp because, well, damn his leg, and when he finally reached Baz, he stepped in-between the two of them. 

"Baz," he whispered, reaching up to put his mouth against Baz's ear. 

"Simon."

"You see those two blokes over there?" Simon gestured to the pair behind him.

Baz peeked around Simon's head and nodded. Simon gripped Baz's waist, resting his fingers on the edge of Baz's jeans.

"I'm going to try and make you feel that good," he said, planting a kiss to Baz's neck. 

Baz stifled back a moan and put his own hands on Simon's hips, guiding them together to mimic the action of the other two dancers. 

Simon was right when he thought that he wouldn't be all that great at it––his movements were aggressive and off-tempo, but he realized that he had been being a proper idiot earlier because it didn't fucking matter that he sucked at this. Baz made up for everything Simon lacked in elegance and grace, just like life. That's why, Simon realized, they worked so well together. Simon was all unfiltered thoughts and clenched fists, but Baz was cool-headed and refined. They brought out the best in each other––Simon giving Baz some of his broad range of unfiltered emotions and Baz giving Simon some of his poise. They were polar opposites apart, but when they were together...

They matched. 

And now, with his leg slotted between Baz's, he couldn't help but smile because this, this messy tangle of limbs and love and want, was like coming home. It was like two puzzle pieces fitting together. It was everything he had ever wanted from life, from another person. And, suddenly, it all made sense to him. The way they were before, there wasn't a day where they would both live through it. The pain and heartbreak and depression that followed that was necessary. They built each other up and broke each other down until they were ready to just be together. There were no secrets anymore. No lies. No double lives. 

Just Simon and his messy stumble through life and Baz there to pick him up when he fell. 

Just Simon and his impossibly, perfectly imperfect boyfriend that he loved with all his heart. 

Just Simon and Baz.