My Selfish Desire

Sixteen~Simon~

He was touching his hair almost the entire day. Brushing it away from his face, threading his thin fingers through it while taking notes, occasionally tucking it behind his ears as he read....the list goes on.
I nearly wondered why he didn't slick it back, but quickly remembered he only left it alone on days he had football practice. It was actually fun to watch, especially when Baz really got into playing. It's hard to believe at a glance, but he's actually damn good on the pitch. (Guess it makes sense. Pitch doing well on the pitch.)
Not only was it a break from schoolwork and a great passtime, but it was maybe the only time anyone saw any of Baz's skin that wasn't his face, neck, or hands. His arms were mostly exposed (he kept a sleeve that went up to his elbow on his left arm for unknown reasons), and he was required to wear shorts like the rest of the team.
Thinking about getting to watch practice sent a shiver down my spine, and my stomach churned with butterflies. I couldn't sit still, and the reason I couldn't wasn't clear to me.
I thought about how Baz ran, making long strides and getting across half the pitch in practically three steps. It thought about how he'd go through a play with ease, almost like it was instinct. I thought about how he put his hands on his knees when he was out of breath, his chest visibly rising and falling in sharp breaths. He'd comb his fingers back through his hair to keep it out of his face, sweat beading above his brow.
I felt myself shift uncomfortably in my seat. The butterflies had drifted downwards, and it was starting to get crowded where they were.
Crowley.
Whatever got me going, it was drving me absolutely insane. I had to leave the classroom and I had to soon.
I raised my hand. "Professor?"
"Yes, Mr. Snow?"
"Uh...I need to go to the infirmary."
She looked at me for a moment. "Very well. Mr.Pitch, escort Simon to the infirmary please."
Baz glanced at me from his seat, but got up and went to the door. He held it open, waiting for me to go through.
Not good not good not good..
I stood and hastily left the room. Hopefully noone noticed my...problem.
He stayed a few steps in front of me,  thankfully silent. Baz turned back and opened his mouth to say something, but shut it after glancing down. He had noticed and stopped in his tracks entirely.
Not good not good Crowley this isn't good...