The Grey Suit
I absolutely adore this art (by @ddoale, you are amazing!) so much that it inspired me to write this tiny fic! This is my very first snowbaz fic! You can basically fit this in between Baz and Simon’s part in Chapter 67 of the book! Enjoy! (:
(You can now find this work on ao3)
The Grey Suit (0.7k)
Simon looks stunning in a grey suit.
But I would never tell him that.
He’s standing in front of me now, freshly showered, smelling faintly of smoke that has been loosely masked with a citrus soap he used. He’s adjusting the buttons of his shirt (of course he would accidentally button the wrong ones together), and I catch a glimpse of skin just above his pants. I immediately look away. Thank Crowley I’m not able to blush.
I move over to the the mirror and begin adjusting my suit jacket and tie. I start slicking my hair back and glance over at Simon through the reflection. He’s fumbling with his tie now, and I can’t stop staring at him in that suit. It fits him in every way a suit should properly fit someone. I should thank my step-mother again for buying it.
Simon is now struggling with his tie. His broad shoulders look even larger, his suit coat fitting snug against the squirming of his arms. He lets out a frustrated groan, and I begin to wonder if Bunce just spells his school tie for him every morning.
“Come here, Snow,” I say, moving back towards him. He looks up between those golden curls, giving me a confused glare, but steps forward anyway. I reach for his tie, avoiding his eyes completely, and he lets his hands fall to his side.
“Uh,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding embarrassed. “Penny usually helps me…”
I knew it, so I smirk. “Does she tie your shoes for you too?” I start to untangle the knot he made in his tie.
“I can tie my own shoes, Baz,” Simon says, rolling his eyes with a huff.
I just nod sarcastically. Simon has made quite a mess out of his tie and it takes me a minute to untangle it. When I finally straighten it out, I grab his shirt collar and pop it up gently. I can feel his eyes on me the entire time, and I suddenly become nervous when they meet mine.
“Baz,” he says, and I ignore him, looking down at his neck. I begin to work on his tie, but I’ve only ever tied one on myself, thus making it difficult to remember the steps.
“Baz,” Simon says again, but quieter this time. His hands slowly come forward and settle against my sides. I’m very nervous now.
“Stay still, Snow,” was all I could say. He doesn’t. Telling Simon to do anything usually results in the opposite reaction. His hands gently slide up my sides, smoothing over my shoulders and rest calmly on my arms stretched out in front of him. He squeezes them slightly and looks at my neck.
I gulp and try to focus on finishing his tie. I can’t focus though. How could anyone focus when Simon Snow is touching you and eyeing the sensitive spots of your neck?
I quickly finish up his tie, adjusting the knot. I hesitate to let go though, so I reach up and turn his collar down. He still doesn’t let go of my arms.
“Snow, we’re going to be late for dinner,” I say, reluctantly beginning to pull away. He catches my hands and lets them fall together. He squeezes them and smiles at me nervously.
“You.. You look.. nice in your suit, Baz,” he says, stuttering slightly, and my stomach drops. Has he been thinking about that this whole time? I gulp again.
And you look stunning in yours, I want to say. But I don’t. I just squeeze his hands back.
“Let’s go to dinner, Simon,” I say instead. I let his hands slide out of mine as slow as possible, savoring his contact. He begins to move away, a few curls falling in front of his face, and I resist the urge to swipe them away. I fail. And I run my hand through them, slicking them over to one side. I disappoint myself. But I can’t help it. Simon looks stunning in a grey suit.