𝕊𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕓𝕒𝕫 𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 (𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕤)

Fantasy pt 4

Simon's POV

I yell after Baz as he's leaving our room—his room. But he ignores me. He walks out and I chase after him instantly but then I remember as soon as the cold hits my exposed body, that I'm in my boxers. Why am I such a fucking idiot? And he even saw my boner, am I trying to get laid or what?! Scolding myself, I run back to our room to throw on a pair of shorts and a random shirt, stepping out into the cold.

             I find him on the Football Pitch, where I was expecting him to be. And for a few minutes I just stare, from afar. At his perfect, porcelain build. At his imperious, high cheekbones; sharp jawline. Arched brows the same obsidian as his shoulder-length, wavy hair. Fuck. . He's gorgeous. Especially his plump pink lips—they're practically daring you to kiss him. And I'm completely seduced.

          I'm so doomed.

          But I can't help myself. I don't think before walking up to him on the Pitch.

Baz's POV

This week has really played with my heart. The boy I love (and hate loving) has been sleeping in my bed every night. So close, and yet. . . So far. Too far for me to reach out and kiss every freckle on his face. To trace every constellation of moles speckled on his back. To hold him against my chest, carding my fingers through his bronze curls, whispering 'I love you, Si.'

        Too far.

        But suddenly, I wake up holding him. And he has a boner.

        None of this makes any sense yet it makes my heart ache like it never has. . At the prospect of every kiss I'll never share with Simon Snow. Every laugh I'll never share with Simon Snow. Every night I'll never share with Simon Snow. It nearly brings me to tears right then. 

         And here he is now. Walking towards me as I weave the football between my feet.

        "Baz,"

        "Snow."

         "Look at me." He was pleads, and I wonder why. Only to fill my eyes with shame? Or burn me with desire? Or break my heart. . . Not that he hasn't already. Not that he isn't destined to.  

         And still, I turn around. Because I'm weak. Because I'm a constant disappointment to myself. Because I love him. 

          Then his lips crash against mine. Too fast for me to know what to do with them. How to even react.

           Mercifully, he doesn't mind. Simon's lips are so, so soft. And he's so, so warm. And he's kissing me. He's doing this thing with his jaw. . And it's. . .

           I think my heart has stopped.

           This is all so overwhelming, and my emotions are bare in the tears staining my cheek. As I gasp into his mouth, sputtering and struggling to breathe, he carefully holds my face in his palms. Ocean blue eyes look into mine as he stands on the tips of his toes to reach up and kiss my eyelids gently. And then kiss the remaining tears away.

           "Bazzy. . ," he whispers, planting his lips on mine again. Drawing me out. To him.

           "I fucking love you. You absolute nightmare." I say breathlessly, suddenly taking him by his hips and peppering kisses on every inch of exposed skin. Ah, that sun-kissed skin. . 

           I'm reveling in the glory that is Simon Snow.

Simon's POV

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. And I—I like you, Baz. A lot." I say, not knowing how to respond to his confession despite initiating this. Love. . Love is a strong word. But Baz knows that, too. 

        He loves me?

        He might as well. Since there's nothing I'd rather do than kiss those sensual pink lips all day long. . .

         And his silver eyes melt. His smile is so small, so soft. He just might love me, if he can look at me like that. No one has ever looked at me like that. 

         I think I'll grow to love him, too.