A/N: baz is in america with his family and simon isn’t. phone calls and wishes and missing each other, basically
“Hey.” Simon’s legs are dangling over the side of the couch, phone pressed to his ear.
“Everything okay over there?” Baz’s voice comes through the speaker. It’s too tinny and distant for his liking, so he taps the speaker button and lets his arm drop off the couch.
“Yeah.” I miss you, I wish you were here, I feel weird drinking coffee alone and not arguing with you over getting up before eight in the morning. “You?”
“The usual.” Simon regrets the speaker decision almost immediately, because the feedback that emits from the phone with Baz’s voice and the crackling of the static echoes loudly throughout the room. He can hear Baz’s voice go up a little, asking what’s wrong, as he fumbles to hit the speaker button and bring the phone to his ear again.
“Simon?” (He doesn’t think anyone else would have noticed the slight rise in pitch of Baz’s voice.)
“Yeah, sorry, everything’s fine,” Simon mutters, disgruntled. “Static. The usual. You were saying?”
“They were at a meeting and I had to go along. Same old, same old. Rallying support from the American mages.” He snorts, and Simon can see his smirk across an ocean, sparking light off the stars. “They call it ‘creating ties’. I call it ‘desperate for political triumph’.”
Simon smiles a little despite himself, tries to send the feeling of his fingers linking with Baz’s through the phone. It doesn’t work, of course.
“She’s staying over at a friend’s this weekend. Babysitting, I think.”
Baz laughs, and something in Simon’s stomach flips a little. (Every time.) “Imagine you as a babysitter.”
Simon rolls his eyes, even though Baz can’t see him. “I’ll have you know I’ve only knocked over the biscuit tin once this week.”
He can almost hear Baz raise his eyebrows. “How many times have you hit doors on the way in?”
Baz laughs again, and Simon grins. It’s short-lived.
Simon sighs, swings his legs back onto the couch. “Six hours?”
“Yeah.” He can hear a bit of a sigh in Baz’s voice, too, and he suddenly wishes Baz was right next to him, long arms wrapped around Simon’s torso, head buried in Simon’s shoulder, occasionally lifting his head to press a kiss to Simon’s neck, tracing his collarbones with his lips.
Baz breaks the silence, says the words they’ve both come to dread a little. “I have to go. They’re all going to bed.”
Another bit of silence, and Simon notices a drizzle starting to fall outside, raindrops tapping lightly against the windows. The sky is still weaved with fibres of light, the last rays of sun shooting through the rain and making the streets glow.
(An ocean apart, the sun has long since set, and the stars are glimmering in full brilliance on a clear night.)
“See you in two weeks.” Baz’s voice is soft.
“Yeah.” Simon exhales. “See you.”
The call ends, and he lets his head fall back onto the arm of the couch.
‘The sky was a feather blanket of clouds, save for one blue hole in the fabric. A blue cloud in a white sky.’ -Marie Rutkoski, The Winner’s Crime.
His blue eyes bring the colourless room alive. I look around, but nobody seems to notice. Nobody seems to be distracted by the boy. My boy.
Simon walks towards me with careful steps, taking it all in. His eyes sad and relieved at the same time.
“Baz,” he whispers and I can see tears starting to gleam in his eyes. I look at the nurse standing next to my bed. She nods as if she just read my mind and she leaves the two of us alone.
I look back at Simon. I show him a weak smile and gesture him to come sit down on my hospital bed. He carefully sits down on the edge of the bed, scared he’ll sit down on my bruised leg. He has his body turned to me so he can look me in the eyes.
So I can look him in the eyes. They’re so blue. His eyes are like a clean, blue sea. I wish I could drown myself in his eyes.
I take his hand in mine and tug at it. I want him to come closer. I see Simon hesitate, he’s scared he’s going to hurt me as soon as he moves.
“Come here,” I encourage him and he leans over.
He is still sitting on the edge of the bed, but his upper body is hovering over mine. He rests his forehead against mine and we both sigh.
I look into his shimmering eyes again. The set of eyes that were the only thing to keep me from falling apart when the pain was taking over everything in my brain.
The calming blue was there to steady my heart and keep me form going insane.
Simon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I want him to open his eyes again.
“They wouldn’t let me see you,” his eyes are open again, tears rolling out of them. “I had to wait two days before they would let me see you. I couldn’t sleep, Baz. I was so worried.”
“I’m okay,” I tell him, my voice soft. “You don’t have to worry.”
I raise my hand, not caring that it hurts, and cup his cheek. His skin is so warm, it makes me feel safe. Simon closes the space between our lips and kisses me tenderly. I kiss him back and forget the pain I’m feeling throughout my whole body.
We break apart. “I’m okay,” I tell him again and I smile at him.
He smiles back, his eyes twinkling. It looks like as if the sun were shining over a lake, sparkles forming over the blue water.
Simon brushes a few strands of hair out of my face. I feel his fingertips on my skin. I lean into his motion and I take the hand in mine. I bring it to my mouth and kiss it.
We stay like this until Simon is forced to leave. He tells me he’ll be back tomorrow. I know he will be.
And until then I just keep thinking of his eyes. So blue, so alive. They keep me at peace.