summary: au where simon and baz are best friends and friendship day comes around. okay, i promise it’s not that lame,, please read my fic
word count: 1.4k
this is for @carryon-valentines day 1: friendship day
i’m sorry i might’ve made it less friend and more SHIP but yeah
“BAZ!” I yell as soon as I spot his tall, lean figure heading towards me. “Happy Friendship Day!”
I run towards him and envelope him in a bone-crushing hug.
“You too, Snow!”
His arms come up around my waist and we just stand there. Holding each other. Like we’ve done so many times before. Not romantically.
But I wish it were.
Romantic, I mean.
It’s been this way for months now, since I figured it out. That I liked Baz. He’s my best friend, he’s been my best friend for years, and I know everything about him. Only later I realized that my obsession with him was not just because of our strong friendship.
It was because of his deep, grey eyes and how they twinkle when he smiles.
It was because of his silky, soft hair that falls in perfect waves- framing his face (really, everything about him is a piece of art.)
It was because of making him play the violin not just because he’s brilliant, but also so that I could watch him focus while his eyes are shut.
Yeah, I’m obsessed. And I don’t even know how to tell him because…
What if he takes it badly?
It might fuck up our friendship.
And there’s no way in hell that I’m taking that chance.
I can see his mop of bronze curls from a mile away, and I can recognize them within seconds. Because I’m whipped. He hugs me as soon as he sees me, and I hold him there, just like I do all the time. I rest my head on his, and I breath in his smoky, refreshing scent that’s all too familiar by now. I don’t think he knows that I love him, and I don’t think he realizes how much it pains me to celebrate “Friendship Day” with him, because honestly. Enough of this friendship thing. I’m pretty sure I fell for him two days after we met, but he’s a moron and he’s straight. So. I just wallow in my misery everyday. We have only a few minutes here anyway; he has to go to his classes (astrophysics- his first class on Tuesday mornings) (it is sad that I know that) and I have to go for mine- History (honestly a really boring subject- I happen to know everything already since I studied it during the vacation.) We’ll meet again at lunch for an hour and a half, and then if he decides to come over, then maybe longer. But that’s it. Nothing special to look forward to.
“Baz, how about dinner today?” he asks.
“Sure. As a Friendship Day thing?”
“As a date, I guess.”
I pray that I’m not blushing. He says it so plainly. It can’t possibly mean more that being just a get-together in the name of our friendship.
But I guess I do have something to look forward to.
Did I just say that? Oh my god.
As soon as Baz turns away, I’m pretty sure I’m red enough to stop traffic. I rush to class, worried about just about everything that could possibly go wrong. I float through the day, until it’s lunch, where I finally see Baz again.
He starts conversation immediately-
“So, what, for our dinner do you want me to wear a suit?”
He says it sarcastically, and obviously I know he’s being sarcastic, but it would be great to see him in a suit.
So I say, “Sure, if you want to.”
He cocks his head towards me. “Okay. I’ll wear a suit if you do.”
If it means seeing Baz in a suit, then yes I’m wearing a suit.
Fifteen minutes before I have to get there, I start searching for suits, and simultaneously realize how my time management skills are equivalent to those of a coconut. I have none.
After three minutes of frantic searching, I find a grey suit that looks about my size and that’ll have to do because honestly, I’m having a bit of a time crisis here. I head to the bathroom and hastily get dressed, and then I rush to the restaurant where I’m should’ve reached ten minutes ago.
I happen to have an entire collection of suits because of our family dinners. So I just went through them and chose a dark, black one. Typical.
I left the house giving myself twenty minutes to get there. We’re going to a relatively fancy restaurant so we don’t look too out of place with our outfits. I reach there five minutes before time, and I’m pretty sure I’ve reached before Simon. He’s late all the time anyway, so it’s no surprise. And I like the idea of being here before him so I can take some time to take in the surroundings, and so that I can choose a nice place to sit- preferably in the corner, so Simon and I can talk in peace.
Why does our little friendship day outing feel like a date?
Simon walks in ten minutes later, his eyes searching. I wave to him, and he heads towards me. Are his pupils a little blown or is that just me?
It’s probably just me.
He’s wearing a grey suit, and it’s sitting on his shoulders perfectly, outlining him and somehow not looking too tight. His hair is messy and tousled, as it is all the time, and his eyes are like shining wells of clear water reflecting the brilliant blue sky above. It’s overwhelming.
He looks stunning.
I look at Baz, and I just can’t stop looking.
In a black suit that compliments his lean, muscular features and his grey eyes (that look bright now, because of his dark clothing) perfectly. I think it’s too much for me to take. I just really want to kiss him. He’s sitting in front of me, and even though we’re talking about what food we’re about to order, I’m just thinking about his lips. And how they move when he talks to me. And how they would taste if I, you know, hypothetically of course, kissed him.
This really does feel like a date. He insists on paying. And that leaves me feeling like I should give him something in return.
How about a kiss? My mind nags. I force it to shut up.
But it doesn’t stop.
We walk out of the restaurant, and it’s dark.
He asks me if I want to stay over, and obviously, I don’t deny.
We’re walking alone to his place.
And I want to kiss him.
“Baz…” Simon says.
I stop and turn to him.
His eyes are bright with some kind of unidentifiable fire.
Okay, fuck it. I’ve had enough. I need Baz’s lips on mine.
“You know what?” I say, “I didn’t give you anything for friendship day.”
I take a step closer, and I can only hope that his expression is a reflection of my own.
“I mean…” I go on, “You gave me that dinner.”
A step forward.
“So thank you for that.”
“And now…I want to give you…”
He’s so close, so close.
And then he kisses me.
His lips are on mine, moving, and hot.
My arms move slide up around his back, and he pushes me.
Baz is kissing me back.
His lips are magical. Just what I expected.
It’s hot and it’s cold at the same time.
And I’m kissing Baz.
He isn’t stopping.
And honestly, I’m glad.
Simon Snow is kissing me.
I’m kissing Simon Snow.
My best friend.
The moment stretches and the kiss feels much longer than it actually is. It’s not like I’m keeping track of anything.
I’m way past rational thought.
The sparks I feel running through my veins and the tingles I feel every time I make contact with Baz’s skin seem imaginary and all too real, at the same time.
Let’s never stop this.
Okay, firstly, Simon is gay. Or bisexual. Whatever it is, it’s an actual blessing.
Secondly, Simon is so good at this kissing thing?
His arms, his jaw, his tongue.
They all seem to exactly what they’re doing.
I, on the other hand, have my mouth jammed against his; my arms are tracing random patterns on his back. It all worries me, really. What if I’m not good enough? I’m probably shit, considering my experience with this stuff.
But Simon is smiling against my mouth.
And Simon is sighing and saying my name.
Maybe…maybe I’m doing okay.
I pull away, reluctantly.
It takes so much effort.
“Let’s go home?”
Baz sighs, nods, and takes my hand.
It is a happy friendship day indeed.