Shoutout to my friend Morgan, who helped me with this but doesn’t have a tumblr (shame on you, Morgan!)
Word count: 1.656
Featuring Baz The Fireman, Simon The Sleeping Beauty and Niall The Bro.
“911? Hello? Yeah, uh, my apartment is on fire, kinda. How? So, I lit some candles and I put them next to my curtains. Yeah, I know. Can you please send someone over? I’m getting a headache. I need to exit the building? Why? But my stuff. I- oh fuck, now the carpet is on fire. Shit, that’s a lot of smoke. Oh my god I’m going to pass out. Can you please-”
“Guys, put on your gear, there’s a new call. Some dude lit his apartment on fire.”
Baz was sitting on a comfortable couch, and he had just scored himself a black coffee from the cafeteria lady – Baz was sure she had a thing for him, too bad he was as gay as the moon – so he was not very happy with the incoming call. He didn’t mind extinguishing fires, it was his job after all, but he hated when some moron ‘accidentally’ lit his own house on fire. That was plain dumbness, and Baz couldn’t deal with it.
But an emergency was an emergency, so Baz stood up from the soft chair with a sigh, poured what was left of his coffee in the sink and put on his equipment.
As four other firemen ran to the fireman’s poles, Baz slowly made his way to the stairs. He despised those poles, for no reason in particular. (Maybe because of that one time many years ago, but he refused to think about that incident.)
When he reached the end of the stairway, Baz headed to one of the fire trucks. From behind him, he could hear a faint voice screaming “SHOTGUN!”
Baz rolled his eyes. The idiots he had to work with.
Fastening his pace, he saw the others run to one of the two trucks. With a sly smile, he opened the front door of the other truck and slid in the front seat. A few second later, Niall, one of the younger firemen, appeared at the window.
“Aw c'mon, bro,” Niall said with a look of disappointment. Baz recognized his voice as the one that had yelled shotgun.
“I clearly shotgunned that place, dude.”
Baz’s mouth corners turned up in a smirk. “Too late, bro, I’m already sitting here. Now get your butt in here, there’s a fire we’ve got to extinguish.”
Niall pouted but walked around and slid in on the other side. “Not cool, bro, not cool.”
Niall stretched his hand out and pushed the radio button. The truck was suddenly filled with Drake’s 'Hotline Bling’.
“Aw yeah, bro, this is my jam!” Niall shouted, making weird dance moves. Baz shook his head, quickly started the engine and drove off after the other truck. This was going to be a long and torturous ride.
When they finally reached the apartment, there were about thirty people standing outside, probably evacuated by the police. Baz parked the truck as best and close as he could and jumped out, followed by Niall.
“It’s apartment 61,” one of the bystanders said. She was small, wore glasses and had purple hair, despise her darker skin color. She looked concerned. Baz nodded at her and ran up to the door.
“Basilton! Bro, you forgot the water!” Niall shouted behind him.
“I’m going to check it out first!” He yelled back, not bothering to turn around, and entered the building. He headed for the lifts, but then remembered his training, and ran up the stairs instead.
When he finally reached the sixth floor, he leaned against the wall for a moment, exhausted and panting. He needed to train his stamina more. After a moment, he gathered himself and looked at the door numbers while walking through the corridor.
64… 63… 62… And at the end, 61.
He now stood in front of the door, and smoke came from beneath it. Baz had no time to lose. From the training, he knew he had to burst in the door, because only idiots leave their door unlocked. That’s why he didn’t burst in, but checked the doorknob first.
And, what a surprise, it opened.
The first thing he saw was smoke. He quickly put on his gas mask and went in. There wasn’t a lot of fire, only the curtains and the carpet were on fire, but there was a ton of smoke.
Baz took a fast glance around the room, and decided to go back to get the water, when he saw him.
Him. He hadn’t realised the guy would still be in there. The guy lay on the other side of the room, next to a phone. Baz leaped over a fallen chair and checked if the guy was still breathing. He wasn’t.
Fuck. The guy had probably breathed in too much smoke.
Baz draped the guy over his shoulder and ran out the door, escaping the smoke. He reached for his walkie-talkie with his unoccupied hand and said: “There’s a lot of smoke, not that much fire. The guy was still in there, I’m now on the corridor of the sixth floor with him, he’s unconscious and isn’t breathing. What do I do? Over.”
A familiar voice answered him, “Bro, that’s not good. Ambulance arrives in 10 minutes, there’s no time, you have to give him CPR. Good luck, dude. Over.”
Baz put away the walkie-talkie and laid the guy on the hallway. He knew what to do, but he was a little nervous since this was his first time with a real person.
Baz looked at the guy’s face. So this was the idiot. A handsome and cute idiot, he must say. He had a lot of moles over his face, and probably over his body too. He had amazing curls, a haircolor he hadn’t seen before. It was a mix between blonde and brown, but it gave it a golden shine. It made him look like an angel.
An angel who wasn’t breathing.
He lowered his head and listened again if the guy was breathing, which wasn’t the case. He then put his right hand on his left, curled his fingers and put his hands on the guy’s chest. He pushed down in a steady rhythm on the beat of 'Stayin’ Alive’. (That’s how he had learned it, on the beat. Ha, ha, ha, ha, stayin alive, stayin alive).
After 30 pushes, he leaned over to the guy’s head, pressed the nose close and took a deep breath. Then he pressed his lips against the guy’s lips, and breathed out. While repeating this, his only thought was: “it’s a pity that he’s unconscious.”
He had been repeating it for more than five minutes, and Baz was getting concerned. This pretty loser couldn’t die, he had been Baz’s first kiss (technically).
And when he had almost given up hope, he heard a small sound. Baz quickly moved closer and listened at the guy’s mouth…
And then he finally felt the guy’s breath on his cheek. He was alive! Baz let out a breath and started chuckling from relief. He saved a man’s life! Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch saved a man’s life! Unbelievable.
Then he remembered they were still on the sixth floor, and he lifted the attractive guy in his arms, bridal style. (Because, why not?).
With the guy breathing against his chest – which felt really cute –, he descended the stairs carefully, until he finally reached the ground floor. Despite his sore arms, he felt proud, and when he exited the building, he was welcomed with applause and cheering.
The girl with purple hair was crying and smiling at the same time. Niall gave him a thumbs up and yelled, “Good job, bro!”
Baz carried the guy to the ambulance that had arrived, and delivered him to one of the nurses. They hooked the pretty idiot up to some machines, which Baz eyed cautiously, and loaded him in. When Baz turned away, a blonde nurse called after him. She was really pretty, and had that attitude that she made her own rules.
“Don’t you want to go with him?”
Baz was surprised, and responded, “I don’t even know him. Why would I?”
The nurse studied him, her brown eyes squinted. “You saved his life, didn’t you?”
“I- yeah, I did. But that doesn’t mean anything. Not to me anyway,” he said with a straight face.
“Oh really? I saw how you looked at him, you don’t need to deny it. Now hop in before he wakes up.”
Baz stood stunned for a moment, but then entered the back of the ambulance with a smile. Maybe he wasn’t as good in hiding his feelings as he thought. The blonde nurse got in the front, saying: “I’ll leave you two alone, he’ll wake up soon” with a wink.
Baz made himself comfortable when the ambulance started driving, and took off his jacket. He was looking around when he heard a noise.
It sounded more like a small whine from a little dog than a sound from a man, but it definitely came from the pretty idiot.
Baz scooted closer and watched how the guy fluttered his eyelids, and then opened them. And his eyes were the most wondrous eyes he’d ever seen. Baz stood perplexed for a moment until the guy cleared his throat. Baz blinked and felt his cheeks turn red.
“Are you an angel?” The guy asked him with a cute smile.
Baz snorted. “No, I’m not an angel. I just saved your life, but that doesn’t make me an angel.” He shrugged.
The guy looked a little confused, then looked around and Baz saw how he understood.
“You sure look like an angel,” the guy said, looking straight at him, giving him a flirty smirk. Baz felt his face turn even more red and had to look away.
“I’m Simon, by the way. Thanks for saving my life.”