My Selfish Desire

Eleven~Simon~

I was kissing a bloke. And of all blokes, I was kissing Baz.
Crowley, I've gone mental. Am I mental?
I think I may like this. I think I may like Baz.
There was no possible way this actually happening. It didn't feel like I was awake. I was somewhere else.
Somewhere kissing Baz.
He was so cold. He was right there, but he felt so far away.
One of his fangs clumsily scraped the corner of my bottom lip. A new warmth sprung from my skin. It stung, but almost in a good way. Baz started attacking the spot, licking and kissing at it desperately. Was I bleeding...?
I needed to get him off of me. Would the Anathema suck me out of the window if I knocked him out? What if I shoved him away?
I didn't want to be banned from Watford. It was all I had anymore. Everyone I know is here. The Mage would find a way to get me back in if I was thrown out, wouldn't he?
Baz whimpered softly, a sound I'd never heard from him before. He was always either carrying a dignified silence or mocking me. But now, he was begging for more contact. For more than the small taste he had. For me.
I had to get him away. He was going to get the wrong message. I didn't want this.
Not now.
Not with Baz.
Not here.