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arituzz · 7 years

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Party Games 7

-SNOWBAZ-

How to fall for your enemy—A Dummies Guide

[1. Set the game] [2. Play like you mean it] [3. Keep playing and don’t ask][4. Poker Face] [5. Play dirty] [6. Show him what you’ve got] [7. (Don’t) Fall in the trap] [8. Cards on the table] [9. Play the game of love]

Summary: Playing games is an innocent and harmless thing to do. Except when you get so caught up in the game that don’t know if you are playing or not anymore, and then… Well. Then you burn

Chapter word count: ~2.4k

Rating: M

Tags: Watford, eighth year AU, alcohol, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, NSFW, smut, mutual pining, fluff, alternating POV first person

Also on AO3

Thank you @velvetnoodle for being my amazing beta!

7. (Don’t) Fall in the trap

SIMON

I wake up to Baz sleeping on my chest.

We’re on his bed, I think. Not that it matters.

What matters is Baz’s peaceful face. He’s impossibly graceful, even when sleeping. His hair falls in beautiful waves across his face, his nostrils slightly opening to allow the air in. His chest rises and falls as he breathes, soft sounds escaping his faintly parted lips. He looks so relaxed that he doesn’t seem evil at all. (He doesn’t even feel evil, lately.)

Baz looks fragile right now. But not the something-I-could-easily-finish-off kind of fragile. He looks like something I want to protect.

I resist the urge to tuck his hair behind his ear and ignore the Penny-like voice in my head warning me, “Five times, Simon.”

No, he doesn’t feel evil. Baz feels like home. (And I’m not getting up.) (Like, ever again.)

Baz. What matters is Baz.

Baz grinds his teeth together and clenches his jaw, which tells me that he’s about to wake up. (He always does that.) But I just… want to stay longer just like this.

BAZ

When I wake up, Simon is in the exact same spot he was when he fell asleep: Below me. Even with his eyes closed, I can tell he’s awake. (I know Simon’s sleeping face, trust me.) (It usually involves a greater deal of slobbering.)

I assume he’s pretending to sleep only because he regrets being in my bed in the first place. Either way, I won’t pressure him.

I will just…

I will just stay a little longer like this.

SIMON

Baz isn’t moving but I know he’s not sleeping. I wonder what’s keeping him from getting up.

Then I realise one of my arms is wrapped around his shoulder, immobilising him. I guess I should move it aside and free him. Yeah, I should do that. It’s what anyone would do.

But I don’t want to. (I don’t want him to go.)

BAZ

Snow’s stomach growls but neither of us moves.

Listen, I know that the longer I stay with him like this, the greater his absence will hurt me. I fucking know. But that won’t stop me from indulging myself as much I can. It’s like I’ve been presented a treasure, something I’ve wanted my whole damn life, under the condition that I had to return it the next day. Could anyone blame me for wanting that day to last forever?

Well, I’ll fucking murder time if I need to.

Simon’s stomach growls again, reminding me of how poorly he’s been eating these past few weeks. (Mostly because he’s been stressing out about playing his stupid game with me.)

Even if it’s his own fault, and even when I’m still supposed to hate him—I obviously don’t—my contradictory wish to stay with Simon is only overpowered by the urge to give him whatever he needs.

Carefully, I retrieve Simon’s arm from my shoulders and I sit up. (A bloody Struggle.)

Simon opens his eyes but still doesn’t move from my bed. He runs a hand through his messy curls and says, “Hey.”

“Good morning.” I don’t call him ‘darling’ like I did yesterday, this time he might actually hear me. Snow averts his eyes as I get dressed. When I’m done, I tell him, “I’ll go get some sandwiches.” I don’t ask him to come with me, I don’t want to give other people the chance to see him and snatch him away from me. (I just want him to stay here forever.) (Or, at least, the rest of the Sunday.)

Simon nods. “Okay.”

SIMON

I’m still on his bed when Baz comes back. He’s brought enough sandwiches to feed an entire army. “Cook Pritchard insisted,” he says.

Baz would never let me eat on his bed, so I take one of the sandwiches and settle on my bed instead. He gives me one of his death glares that probably translates into “I know it’s your bloody bed, but it’s still fucking gross.”

I shrug. Baz rolls his eyes. (Romantic feelings aside, I still like getting under his skin.)

Baz doesn’t like eating in front of people. He never does. But I know he eats when no one can see him. (Like at night, when he thinks I’m asleep.) After going with him to the catacombs yesterday, I thought he’d be past this. But he isn’t, apparently.

“Uhm. Do you need to… You know, get back to the catacombs?” I ask.

Baz avoids my stare. “Not yet,” he says, but still doesn’t eat.

I take one of the sandwiches and give it to Baz. “Just eat.”

“Uh… I’m not hungry.”

“Baz,” I say. “It’s fine. I… I like it.” I like you, I think, but I don’t tell him.

Reluctantly, Baz takes the sandwich and gives it a bite.

I don’t know why but that makes me smile. Like, Smile, capital S. Shit-eating grin, with teeth and all. Baz will never admit it but I can see him fighting back a smile.

When we’re done with breakfast—or lunch, I don’t know—Baz spells my bed clean of breadcrumbs.

I don’t want to leave the room—I don’t want to leave Baz—so I take out my magic words homework and sit on my desk. “Uhm… Baz?”

He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Yes?”

“Can you help me with this?”

BAZ

Snow actually listens to me while I explain him what’s wrong with his homework exercises. He doesn’t protest, he just nods along and corrects them. I have to admit he’s not that bad at it when he tries.

When we’re finished, I regret not having explained it all wrong to him, so now I could have an excuse to go over the exercises again. (And stay more time with him.)

Snow grabs the papers to put them back into his bag, but Simon can’t help being Simon—not even for a bloody day—and he cuts his finger with the paper sheet.

A drop of blood appears on the tip of his index finger and I have to remind myself to stay put.

Simon notices my distress and starts walking towards the door. “I’ll go--”

“Don’t,” I shout after him. He stops on his tracks, turning around. “You don’t need to go,” I say. “I can help.”

“Okay.”

I take his finger and cast Get well soon.

And then I kiss it.

SIMON

There are only two explanations: Either I’m dreaming, or I have magickally stepped into a parallel dimension. (I think the first one.)

That, or Baz is really kissing my finger.

But that’s impossible, right?

I want him to stop kissing my finger and start kissing my lips instead.

BAZ

Simon is looking at me in that way he does, that tells me something incredible is about to happen.

SIMON

Baz’s lips are so close and I can only think about kissing him. It seems that’s all I can think about, lately.

BAZ

We kiss, like we’ve done so many times before. Except, this time, it’s me who starts the kiss.

I kiss him, because I’m an idiot. Because I’m stupidly in love with him. And because a small part of me—an awfully dumb one—believes he can also, maybe, someday, love me back.

SIMON

It’s a soft kiss. Baz’s hands are on my face and I put my arms around his neck.

Baz lets out a low moan against my mouth and I… want to stay like this forever.

But this isn’t a dream.

This isn’t a parallel dimension, either.

And yeah, there is a third explanation: Baz is still playing the game. And I’m an idiot and have fallen in his fucking trap.

I let go of him.

I make sure to slam the door behind me as I run away from Baz.

BAZ

I don’t dare follow Simon.

I knew it. I’ve always known. Since Simon started his idiotic game, I fucking knew that sooner or later it would end. Still, I can’t believe I was so bloody foolish so as to hope he would get feelings for me along the way.

SIMON

I’m on the ramparts before I know what I’m doing.

I sit on the floor, around the same spot Baz and I were yesterday. Placing my palms on the ground, I rest my weight on my hands, and I look up at the sky.

Even though it’s not completely dark yet, I try to remember where the Perseus constellation is supposed to be. As I do, my hand makes its way to my chest, tracing the moles I have there, the same way Baz did yesterday.

The wind blows against my face, making me shiver. That’s weird. I’m always warm, and I’d swear yesterday night was even cooler. Plus, Baz was here, and he’s freezing. But somehow I feel colder today. Is it possible to physically miss someone? Because I think that’s what’s happening to me.

Baz. I fucking hate him.

(I don’t.)

Merlin.

I sigh. Because what else can you do when you realise you’re stupidly in love?

I just fucking miss Baz.

BAZ

When Simon gets back to the room, it’s way past midnight.

The last thing I want now is dealing with him rejecting me—again—so I pretend to be sleeping. I’ll deal with that tomorrow. Or never.

SIMON

After everything that happened this weekend, going back to the weekday routine seems as easy as learning Arabic in one afternoon.

During magic words, I almost lose my shit. We go through the exercices I did with Baz yesterday and my traitorous thoughts can’t stop providing me very vivid images of Baz kissing me. Also, the tosser keeps sending glances over at me, so he makes sure that not even a second passes without me acknowledging his existence. (As if I weren’t already hyper aware of it.)

By lunchtime I’m about to go off.

BAZ

I take another swig of my tea as I regret every last decision I’ve made in my life.

Dev is telling Niall how “sparkling” and “deep” his eyes are. I roll mine for the umpteenth time. Niall actually fucking blushes and draws Dev closer to him, kissing his lips, no consideration towards me whatsoever. I am fucking family, for Crowley’s sake.

And after Snow rejecting me yesterday, the last thing I need is a live display of teenage hormones.

Speaking of which, Snow is about to go nova at the other end of the dining hall. I wish I could go there and calm him down, like I did the other day.

But I fucking can’t. I have no right. Snow made sure of it.

SIMON

“Staring at the plate isn’t going to make the food disappear,” Penelope says, bringing me back to reality. “I thought you loved Watford’s roast beef.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m just not hungry.”

Penny furrows her brow. “What are you sorry for?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Everything?”

“Simon,” she says, shifting her position on the chair so that she’s facing me. “Stop thinking everything depends on you.”

Penny’s gaze lacks its default accusatory, judgmental, undertone. Her expression is soft, and I think she’s worried about me. But that makes me feel worse. I don’t want her to worry, it’s not her fault. It’s Baz’s fault. Everything is Baz’s fault.

I stare at him. He catches my eye momentarily and then looks down at his tea, his hand playing with the spoon. And I can’t help but wonder if he’s okay.

I look back at Penny. “Simon?”

I don’t say anything—I can’t, really—I just take her hand and look her in the eye for a moment. I glance at Baz, then stare back at Penny again. And she just knows. She knows what I’m trying to say: I’m in love with him.

I love when I don’t need to use words to make Penny understand me. I don’t think I’d be able to tell her everything out loud.

She doesn’t say “I told you, Simon,” which would be fair. She squeezes my hand, meaning: “I know.”

I bite my lip and squeeze Penny’s hand back.

She twitches the corner of her lips into a tiny smile, which means, “I’m here.”

I wonder if Penny has cast a silent spell or something to make me feel better, because it’s like magic: Even though everything is exactly the same, my mood is instantly lifted. And I know I’ll survive. I mean, I’ve killed a dragon; surely handling unrequited love can’t be that hard.

I smile back at her.

Slowly, an idea starts to take shape in my head, and by the end of the day I’m sure of it: I want to try it with Baz. The friendship thing. This could obviously also be a part of his evil plan but, whatever. I’ve decided I’d rather be Baz’s friend than his nothing-at-all.

I don’t know, I just fucking miss him.

BAZ

When I get back to the room, Simon is already there. He’s pacing nervously across the small space in the room. “Snow. Stop.”

Simon stops to look at me. “I—” he starts. Then, he avoids my stare and starts pacing again.

“Just sit the fuck down.”

Simon obeys me, sitting on the chair before his desk, only to start tapping his foot against the leg of the chair.

Asking Simon to calm down is like asking a stone to start speaking. (Stupid. Pointless.) I sigh. “What is it, Snow?”

Simon looks back up at me. He swallows and says, “I like this.” My heart does a little flip, because I imagine him saying, “I like you, Baz.” But instead, he continues, “Being friends. I like it better than fighting.”

Still, it’s more than I’d ever hoped for. “Fine,” I say, my voice breaking.

Simon stands up and comes closer. And then he hugs me.

My knees almost give out. Crowley, he can’t just go and do shit like that without a warning.

When I’m recovered, I melt into his arms like the weak person that I am. Because I love him. And he likes this better than fighting.

SIMON

Baz hugs me back.

Okay, yeah, I’m like so deep into his trap that it’d take me years to find the way out.

But I don’t care. I don’t want any way out. I’d gladly fall in it again—fucking jump right in—if that meant one single more moment like this with Baz.

-TBC-

(snowbaz fic masterlist)

#snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #posting party games from an actual party lmao #the end is near #only two more chapters to go

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crmsfanfiction · 4 years

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Second Chances-Chapter 8

Author Note: Ok so this was a VERY hard chapter for me to write. I am not used to writing smut about a losing your virginity. It was difficult to do. I’m not sure it is good, and it will be a long awhile before more smut happens. Please know this chapter is 18+ NSFW.

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Chapter 8: Flashback

David, Becca, Willa, and Sebastian spent a few hours catching up before they had to head for the airport. Sebastian was glad to see her friends didn’t hate him for everything that happened. It made him think he might have a chance with her again someday. Though he knew it would be a very long time before she was ready for a new relationship. They made it to the airport and through security and into the departures lounge. They still had about an hour before they had to board.

“I’m going to go check my make-up and grab a coffee. Do you want anything?” Willa asked as she stood to head for the bathrooms. “Coffee please.”

“Ok be back in a few.” Willa said as she headed for the bathroom. She checked her make-up, thankfully it was still intact, and the bruises weren’t showing. That would be a nightmare to explain. She headed for the coffee shop and ordered two coffee’s one with cream and sugar and one with almond milk. She was quickly handed two cups and headed back to the lounge. She handed Sebastian his coffee and sat down next to him as he took a grateful sip. “Almond milk? You remembered.” He said with surprise.

“I told you. I remember what you like.” she said as she pulled out her phone to scroll through it while they waited. She didn’t feel like talking at the moment and just wanted to drift off into more pleasant memories. She opened her photo gallery and went to her backed up photos. She pulled up the folder with all the old photos of her and Sebastian, allowing her mind to drift back to that perfect year of them together. One picture in particular brought up a specific memory of the weekend she had introduced him to Becca and David.

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November 2005

It had been a great housewarming party. All of Willa’s friends had loved meeting Baz and they had all made him feel welcome. She’d had too much to drink and Baz had stayed mostly sober. He was driving them back to the hotel after all. They had just left David and Becca’s with the promise to come back the next day for lunch and to hang out. They had readily agreed as they weren’t due to fly out until the day after.

“Thank you for coming with me Baz. It meant a lot to me.” Willa said as she looked over at him while he drove. He glanced at her and grinned. “You’re welcome babe. I’m glad you had fun. I really did like your friends.” Willa smiled and leaned over the center console to press a kiss to his cheek. Willa turned to look out the window for the last few minutes of the drive as she was starting to feel a bit nervous.

They had been together for a couple months now and she felt like she was ready for the next step of their relationship. He had been so patient and willing to take it slow for her. While she’d dated a bit in high school, she hadn’t really gone further than a few heated kisses and some heavy petting over clothes. The weekend off and the housewarming gave her the perfect opportunity to hopefully push their relationship to the next level.

They made it back to the hotel and headed for their room. Willa was a bit nervous as she wasn’t sure how he was going to respond to her advances. Baz could tell something was going on with Mina as they got closer to their room, the more she started to fidget. “Mina babe, are you ok? You seem really nervous.” he asked as they walked into their room. Willa sighed and sat down on the bed. “I am really nervous.”

“What for? It’s just me.” Baz said as he sat next to her and kissed the side of her head as she leaned on him. “I know. It is so stupid, but I think I’m ready for the next step and I just want to be good at it, but I’m scared I’ll disappoint you.” She said as she covered her face in embarrassment and shame. She couldn’t believe she was admitting this to him. She could feel how red her face was as Baz pulled her hands away from her face and forced her to look him in the eye. “Mina don’t ever be worried about that. When we started dating you said you weren’t ready for sex. I am ok with waiting as long as you need to feel ready. Just because we are sharing a room and bed, doesn’t mean we have to have sex.”

“Thank you, babe. I’m sorry I am being silly over this. We should be able to talk about it. I want too, but I’m scared. I have never done this before, and I don’t know what I am doing.” Willa said as she took a deep breath and looked at Baz. “Well, we can take it slow and if at any time you want to stop, we stop. No questions asked.”

“Yeah? You would be ok with that?” Willa asked. Baz nodded as he captured her lips in a kiss. It was soft and gentle to start just lips gliding on lips. He wrapped his arms around her and settled her on his lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her chest into his. Willa sighed as he tightened his grip around her back. Opening his mouth, he pressed his tongue into hers gently deepening their kiss. His tongue danced and glided over her urging hers to do the same. She shyly reciprocated his movements as he ran his hands up and down her back to relax her.

Feeling her start to relax he slid his hands under her shirt and stroked the soft skin of her lower back as she buried her hands in his hair. Pulling away from her lips to get some air he checked to see how she was feeling. Grinning at her blissful expression as she turned unfocused eyes to his, he took the opportunity to pull her shirt up and over her head and did the same with his own. Willa smiled and ran her hands down his body and stopped at his belt. Baz took in her pretty purple lacy bra and wondered if it was a matching set. She looked good in it. He almost hated to take it off, but he wanted to see all of her. He leaned in pressing kisses to her shoulder and up her neck as he twisted to lay them both on the bed.

Kissing down back down her neck and over her breasts he stopped before he went any farther down. He looked back up at her asking for silent permission, which she gave as she lifted and unhooked her bra and pulled it off. Her eyes closed as his warm mouth kissed over her breasts and enclosed on one nipple, while his hand played with the other one. Rolling and pulling it as sighs and moans started to fall from Willa’s lips. He switched sides as her legs fell open and he settled his weight between them.

Willa opened her eyes as he kissed his way back up her chest and neck and pressed a kiss to her mouth. She could feel his bugle pressing into her core and she felt herself getting more aroused than she already was. Baz looked her in the eye as he sat up and reached down to unbutton her jeans. He went slowly giving her time to stop if she wanted too, but she just lifted her hips and let him slide her jeans down and off. It was a matching set after all. The purple lace thong barely covering her sex, was damp with her arousal. He could smell it from where he was. He adjusted himself as his jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight.

He wanted nothing more than to slide into her wet warm pussy, but he knew she needed time to adjust to all the sensations and to relax more before he could do that. She was willing, but still wound to tight. He needed her to relax or this was going to hurt them both. Sliding his hands up her legs he reached the apex of her thighs and slowly ran a finger over her lace covered cunt. She shivered and let out a breathy moan as her legs fell open and she started to relax. He hooked his fingers around the waistband of her thong and slid them down her legs. Throwing them to the side he kissed her lips again as he snaked his hand between her legs and gathered her slick to coat her clit as he rubbed it. He wanted her to get off at least once before they went further. It would help relax her and keep her from tensing up later.

Willa tried to close her legs at his hand down there. It was a heady sensation that she wasn’t ready for, but he kept kissing her and rubbing tight circles on her clit. She’d never realized how sensitive it actually was. She pulled her lips from his as she threw her head back and moaned softly. There was a sensation of a spring coiling tightly in her lower belly and legs. She gasped as Baz started kissing back down her body and settled his face in between her thighs. Inhaling deeply, he replaced his fingers with his tongue. The first touch had her hips bucking off the bed. She’d never been touched like this and it was intoxicating to her. His tongue warm and wet flicking rapidly over her clit had her a moaning writhing mess on the bed. The coil was back in her belly and she could feel it getting tighter and tighter.

He could tell she was getting close to her release, so he gently started to prepare her for him with his fingers. Using one finger he slid it into her tight wet sex feeling her resist the intrusion. He stopped and allowed her to get used to the feeling as he pulled his lips and tongue away from her clit. She cried out as he pulled away. Sliding his finger in and out of her he curled it up feeling for the spot he knew would helped push her over the edge. She could feel herself coming closer to something, but she didn’t know what as he pumped his finger in and out of her. She looked up at him with blow wide pupils and cried out as he added a second finger. She felt so full it was almost painful, but she didn’t want him to stop. It felt too good. He grinned as he attacked her clit again with his lips and tongue as he finger fucked her. Too soon she was rising on the wave of pleasure and crashing over the top with his name on her lips as she cried out her release. He gave her one last kiss and pulled away from her to shed his pants and pull out a condom from his bag.

Willa laid slayed out on the bed breathing hard as she felt her heartbeat drumming in her chest. She watched as Baz stroked himself a couple of times using her slick on his fingers to coat his cock before he pulled his foreskin down and rolled the condom on. He settled back over her body and kissed her deeply, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Reaching down between them he grasped himself and lined up with her entrance slowly pressing into her. She started to tense from the feeling, but he whispered soothing sounds in her ear as he kissed her face and neck. Willa wrapped her arms around his neck as she willed her body to relax. He pressed in further, knowing he was coming to the point of pain for her. Sliding out again he slid in again deeper than last time. He knew she would have some pain, but he’d hoped she’d enjoy this. It was hard to hold himself back. She felt so good. Sliding out again he slid in again going deeper until his was fully sheathed inside her. Willa gasped at the full feeling of him deep inside. It was a pleasurable pain as he shallowly thrust in and out. He kissed her again as she started to move her hips with his letting him know he could move faster.

Willa moaned as he pulled all the way out and slid back in faster and harder. He set a steady pace that had her wrapping her legs around his waist. She surrendered to the sensation of him deep inside her pussy. “Oh god Baz. Don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Never stopping baby.” He said as he could feel his orgasm rushing up on him faster than he wanted it. He slowed down as he pressed his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. He wanted her to enjoy this, but he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer.

“I can’t hold off much longer baby.” Willa kissed him and pulled him close, “Let go baby.” She whispered as he snapped his hips against her. His rhythm fell apart as he thrust twice more and felt his orgasm wash over him. He kissed her again as he pulled out of her and headed for the bathroom to dispose of the condom. Willa winced as he pulled out, her sex tender and sore as she rolled over to watch him.

Baz climbed back into the bed with her and pulled her close. “Alright?”

“Amazing. That was amazing. Thank you for being so patient with me.” Willa said as she snuggled down next to him and closed her eyes. Baz pulled the covers up over them as he drifted off to sleep next to her.

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“Mina. It’s time to board.” Sebastian said as he stood next to Willa. She blinked as the memory of him and her in bed faded away. She gathered her carry-on bag and stood up. She could feel her arousal from the memory as she walked behind him to the plane.

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brooklynislandgirl · 7 years

Note

Five Times Hugged

Merry and Bright

Baz stands in the doorway, and there is an expression that crosses his face that speaks of both wariness and good humour, and she can’t help but notice how bright his eyes are when they sparkle in the glow of the fairy lights. He takes up most of the door way, and there’s snow building up on the window ledges, frosting the glace with icy lace. In the crook of his arm, a be-ribboned bottle of wine, a gift for the hostess. It’s thoughtful and it’s sweet, and when Beth sees him, she smiles radiantly.

Maybe its just him. Maybe it’s the mistletoe he’s standing under.

She comes around the corner of the counter and dusts flour covered hands on the apron wrapped around her waist.

“You came!”

“Yeah.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, smells like cookies and cinnamon and evergreens. He breaths her in for a moment but breaks the spell. “Should prolly move bu’m'parents r'still outside.”

Behind them, Barney and Wanda trade a look and Barney hugs his wife a little closer.

And the Living’s Easy

She sits on the tail-gate, all impossibly long legs and denim shorts, the sunlight turning her hair to spun gold in the breeze. New-leaf eyes watching him as he casts lazily into the water. There’s nothing around for miles, just the two of them, the truck, a little music and beer. There’s a few bites, but that’s really not the point of fishing, is it?

They don’t really need to talk, each content in the other’s company. They’d gotten there early, they stay out late. He’d told her about the spot before and so he shares it with her. A perfect summer day.

Night falls softly and that’s when he grins at her. He knows she doesn’t like the dark but he sits beside her and tells her it’s worth it. He watches the wonder cross her face as the stars come out, and a few of them spin just out of her reach, the only place he knows of here that has lighting bugs. She reaches out to touch them and sends them flickering away.

He hops down and offers her his hand, and she slips her fingers against his rough palm.The music coming out of Angie’s speakers is slow, and easy. He puts a hand on her hip, so very proper, carefully practiced.

But Beth’s not like other city girls and wraps her arms around his waist, behind his back until her hands are in his pockets. He follows suit.

It’s not exactly dancing, but it’s close enough for them.

If It Ain’t Broke...

“Three-quarters socket.”“Wrench.”“Filter.”It’s like operating. There’s a skill in his hands that she can’t deny, each movement precise and meticulous. He speaks to each spare part, each tool he asks for and for those moments, no world exists beyond the grease and the metal and all the interchangeable moving parts she can’t identify. She knows bones and veins, not spark plugs and that little round spinney thing that looks like a fan.He takes his time, and autumn edges blue. There’s a hint of oil in his hair when once or twice he slicks it back before giving up the good fight and ties it off. But he can’t or didn’t capture them all and a few rebel wisps hang around his cheeks. She notices stubble lining his jaw, he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, but the look, it suits him.Hitches down into a squat and the faded, torn patch of his jeans protest, catching her attention. She thinks maybe she likes the fact that he’s not pristine, not perfect. The jeans, like his hands, are well-worn but still cared for.It takes her a moment to notice he’s watching her from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t mention the blush, but even she can see it in her reflection.

“Guess I’ll leave i’ for ya,” she says and skitters away to a corner of the shop where she can’t be a bother. He doesn’t try to stop her, but she notices that his posture closes in a little tighter than it had been before. She watches the way he almost caresses the frame, she wonders what sweet things he whispers to her car.She doesn’t ever thing she’s been jealous of an inanimate object before.Almost an hour later and he’s done. Comes up and tells her so, wiping his hand on a rag and in as few words as possible, explains what was wrong. It goes over her head, but she likes the way he talks.She hands him an envelope.There’s hesitation, the slightest cock of his head as he looks from it to her and back. There’s a curl of his lip, which pulls at the faint scar almost on the corner and she wants to shrink away from that look. “S’this?” He says, tilting his chin at it, just barely reaching out to take it. Offense is clear in his tone. Another heartbeat passes before she realises, he thinks she’s trying to pay him and her fingers alight on his wrist. “Ho n-n-naw…” she stutters like she did as a child. “It’s no wha’ ya t’ink…”Sound in the back of his throat, might have been a question, might have been stray dust.

“I…got two tickets….fer da antique car show dis week-end. I…mebbe ya wan go? Wi’me?”There’s a grudging ease to the set of his shoulders but before he can answer her, she’s winding her arms around his neck, her mouth a hair’s breadth from his ear. “Guess I shoulda say… happy birthday?”He’d have had to be stupid to say no.And his mama didn’t raise a fool.Maybe that’s why he doesn’t tell her there’s already a pair of tickets in his toolbox.Beginning to Look A Lot LikeIt’s been snowing for days, and that isn’t one of her exaggerations. The city has been dying by slow degrees under feet of the stuff. Power-lines are down and even the subway has stopped running, and Beth is glued to the windows, arms wrapped around her waist, eyes searching the almost alien landscape.

Minutes crawl by like hours, and hours become an eternity. He was supposed to be there hours ago and the one thing she can count on is that Baz is never really late. She texts. Once, twice…a dozen times, but there’s no answer. She’s got her boots half way on and partly laced when there’s a knock on the door, a very distinct thud of boot and wood colliding.She slides the chain back and throws it open. Before he can say a word, she’s all over him, hugging tight enough that he can’t breath.Right before she punches him, in the arm.“S’at for?”But he knows, he can see it in her face, how her eyes glitter with unshed tears. He’s seen that look, on a different soft face, and some part of him wonders if he looks a little like his father. But instead of saying anything, he just holds up the two bags of take-out.

“Ya an idiot.” She hugs him again for good measure before he’s allowed inside.He might have grinned, just a hint. But at least they don’t have to worry about cooking.

Auld Lang Syne

All the things make him uncomfortable.Too many people. Too loud. Too bright. Too…everything. Yes, he knows its a holiday but he could just as easily be celebrating with a quiet drink at home. Where it’s quiet, where it’s comfortable. But he’s got to admit to himself, this ain’t about him, is it?He knows she loves New Years as much as he does Christmas, she’s told him so on the phone at four in the morning when she can’t sleep. Those times aren’t often but he always answers the phone, cradles it between his shoulder and his ear. Makes little noises where appropriate so she knows he’s listening, even if he drifts somewhere between sleep and waking. Even waits until her breath is soft and even before he bothers to hang up because he’s got work.Beth doesn’t ask for much, and Baz? He takes as little as possible.And maybe he feels a little guilty when she looks at him, bright eyed and full of hope, and makes him promise he’ll come to her stupid party. He doesn’t know even two of these people, mostly co-workers of hers. And she flutters around each group, the obnoxious laughing and bragging that comes with people and drinking. He doesn’t think she notices when he slips out onto the balcony. The iron beneath his feet shifts unsteadily and his fingertips, braving the cold through the cut off of his gloves, grace the metal long enough to give it some stability, one of the million tiny things he does for her.Across the city, there’s billions of these gatherings, and he can almost hear the roar of the crowd waiting for the ball-drop. All he wants is the quiet and the cold as the breeze runs its fingers over his cheeks, through his hair. He glances at his watch and keeps the old year company as it lets itself go.There’s cheers around him and he thinks he can make good his escape, but before the final second falls away, she’s there. Insinuating herself under his arm and she hugs him. Tilts her chin up to smile into his face, and says,“Hauʻoli makahiki hou.”It’s maybe impulsive, but it’s that kind of moment. He’ll blame the champagne later, if he has to, because there’s something not right about a New Year’s hug.“…ain’t how s'usually done bu…”He doesn’t have to lean down very far to let his lips grace hers, just a whisper. Just for a second.Sometimes, that’s all you need.

#ruginite #of apples and orange #baz barton|a different kind of knight #making wishes on passing cars|answered asks

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