Scintilla, just a tiny spark

𝐴 𝑏𝑜𝑦-𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚

An honestly confused Simon about why he has continuous gay thoughts around his very hot roommate.
Snowbaz fluff (from Carry on, by Rainbow Rowell).

🌺🌺🌺🌺

"If homosexuality isn't contagious," Simon said, waving his bendy straw around "then why do I always have homosexual thoughts whenever my gay roommate takes his shirt off?" He asked, jokingly, not quite getting the implications he, himself, made.

Agatha looked at her friend, mesmerized by his thickness and at a complete loss for words.

"Oh boy," Penny then exclaimed loudly, sipping her iced beverage. "Do I got some news for ya."

Simon could only look at her, flushing red but not really getting the hang of it, yet.

Agatha couldn't do much more than sigh, asking herself if it was actually possible to be that fucking thick.

"Merlin, Si." She whisper-yelled, disapproval waltzing in her brown orbs.

Simon looked at her, frightened by her sudden outburst.

Penny laughed, still calmly sipping her iced lemonade.

Boy were they in for a ride.

Honestly, Simon had always been confused by love, by people. No matter how much he liked human beings, he never really got the hang of how understanding them functioned.

His head had always been haywire, but when he started university and moved into the dorms, oh boy did his already messy mind got even messier.

His very hot, very gay, roommate always confused him. It had always been somewhat infuriating to Snow, the way that Pitch boy was so perfect in every aspect, the way he held himself, his sneers, his smirks, his intelligence. It always felt weird, how he was so secretive and yet so unafraid to speak his mind, so blunt, so hurtful at times. And Snow knew that very well, they didn't get along, not much at least.

They had always been the polar opposite, messy and neat, hot and cold, bubbly and spiteful. But Snow liked him, that much he understood. He wanted to be friends, didn't ever think he could have wanted something more than that. He'd been into girls since forever and the idea of liking him more than a friend never crossed his mind.

Maybe the way he got so often mesmerized by Basilton's pale lips every time he spoke, or how he wanted to run his hands through his silk-like jet black hair, or how he gets so easily distracted by his beauty, a beauty that feels ethereal. Maybe the way he can't take his pale grey eyes out of his mind should have been "red flags" enough to understand that wasn't just curiosity, not anymore.

He was aware he adored the way his roommate drank his tea, or his coffee, the way he looked in the morning or how he always slept in every time he could.

But Simon had always been very thick, and very unaware, and he never liked to think about confusing stuff, so he just didn't think about it at all. And all those little things he obviously fell in love with, fell into his daily routine, like making tea in the morning and leaving some in the hot kettle for his roommate as well, or making coffee for two but putting so much milk and sugar in his roommate's one that it couldn't even be called "coffee" anymore.

All that became so familiar, Snow got accustomed to it and didn't mind any of those little interactions.

He probably started to realize the subtle way in which Basilton integrated in his life,when their first Christmas break came upon them, their first year of uni.

When Simon's roommate told him he was going back home for the holidays and to "not burn everything down", as if it wasn't him doing all the cooking. But he didn't really mind, he noticed. What he minded was being without him, because although snarky and caustic, Basilton's personality warmed their shared dorm room.