Simon Snow was gorgeous even while sleeping, Baz thought to himself. It was criminal, really. The way his curls fell over his forehead, and that dumb little grin that appeared on his face. Probably dreaming of snogging Wellbelove. It was sickening, the way they'd always acted around each other. Almost too happy, like they were putting on an act specifically to torture him. That was ridiculous though. As quickly as Snow had picked up on his vampirism, he was surprisingly oblivious to Baz's affections.
Baz frowned, gaze still lingering along every plane of Simon's face. His lips were so soft. They looked like they'd be perfect to kiss. He wouldn't trust himself not to bite them. For that matter, he wouldn't trust Simon not to kill him the moment they touched. He shifted farther under the covers, cursing every damn cruel twist of fate that had forced them together. No matter how many times he repeated it to himself over the years, whispering 'I'm in love with Simon Snow' over and over when he was alone, it never stopped feeling any less terrifying and surreal.
Just as he was starting to drift off to sleep, he saw Simon stir, eyes opening. Baz forced any hints of fondness or longing from his face, adopting his usual sneer. There was no hope of pretending to be asleep, so the best he could do was to keep from letting it seem like he'd been staring.
"Any particular reason you're staring at me?" Simon asked, voice barely above a whisper. Clearly, he'd noticed.
"Don't flatter yourself, Snow," Baz scoffed, rolling over onto his other side, facing the window. "As if I could stand looking at your face that long without it making me ill."
For a long couple of moments, Baz dared to hope that that might be the end of it. He still wasn't up to his usual strength after the whole ordeal with the numpties, and he really wasn't in the mood for a long, agonizing argument in the middle of the night. But, of course, he couldn't possibly be that lucky.
He heard Simon's bed creak quietly, and then footsteps on the floor between them. Before he could even puzzle out what was happening, there was an unfamiliar weight in the bed next to him, and then Simon fucking Snow was sprawled on top of him like some sort of guard dog. For the life of him, the only thing that Baz could figure was that he was planning on hurting him somehow, muttering out a quick warning of 'Anathema.'
"I'm not going to hurt you," Simon muttered. "Now, anyway. But someone clearly needs to keep an eye on you. What were you doing the past eight weeks?"
Baz tried halfheartedly to shove Simon off, not hard enough to really do anything. Really, he sort of wanted him to stay in bed with him, even if the intentions behind Snow crawling on top of him in the first place weren't exactly what he'd wanted, but he had to put up at least a little protest. He could feel the effects of that damn cross, but it wasn't eliminating the desire to kiss him. Or bite him. He growled softly, hardly noticing how much he sounded like Simon in that moment.
"Crowley, you're thick," he muttered. "Do you snuggle all your potential threats?"
There was no response. It took awhile for him to relax into the feeling of another body pressed comfortably against his own, and he was careful to wait until Simon was asleep before letting his arm drape loosely around his waist. The awful, endearing idiot had tucked his head right up under Baz's chin, almost entirely on top of him, like he was cradling some sort of giant teddy bear. He did his best to memorize every detail. This was what had kept him sane in that dark coffin.
Simon tossed and turned in his sleep, apparently. When Baz woke up in the morning, he was no longer on top of him, but hugging him tightly, face pressed against his neck.
"I'm in love with Simon Snow," he muttered quietly to himself, knowing he wouldn't be heard.
He pretended he was asleep when Simon disentangled himself without a word and got ready, waiting until the other boy had left the room before getting up himself. His sheets smelled like Simon's magic, and without that, he might not have believed the previous night even happened.
Nearly a year later, when they were laying in bed together in almost the same position, in Simon and Penny's flat, Baz brought up the memory, almost laughing at how back then he'd thought that was as lucky as he'd ever get.
Simon just rolled his eyes, nuzzling in closer. "Should've snogged you then, I suppose. Put you out of your misery."
"Oh, shut up," Baz growled playfully, kissing him. "You were just as pathetic, you know, snuggling me like that." His arm snuck in around Simon's waist, pulling him a little closer. This certainly wasn't the life he'd ever imagined for himself, even when he'd been falling asleep with his then-enemy in his bed. It was much better.