Snowbaz One Shots

From 0 to 100

Listen... I got bored. 

SIMON

It's been a long night. Baz was forced into visiting his family for the holidays, and he absolutely insisted he would not attend unless I joined him. We've been together for nearly two years, but his family has only warmed to me slightly. It's been easiest to make my peace with Baz's kid siblings (Though they're not like normal kids- they're like... tiny adults. It's unnatural), and his stepmother seems generally unbothered by me, but she could never admit that. Not around her brute of a husband. Baz's father has not come around in the slightest to the fact that his son is gay, let alone that he's screwing Simon Snow. I'm fairly certain that the only reason they still invite Baz to family events is because of his step mum and Fiona always defending him, and I guess possibly me as well... bless them.

After your average, totally run-of-the-mill three course meal served to us by the Pitch's house keeper, a half-hearted exchange of gifts, and several hours filled with uncomfortable silence and the noise of forks scraping against plates, it was time for Baz and I to finally make our escape. I can read that boy like an open book nowadays, and I knew as it was rounding 8pm that we had to get out of that house or there would be some kind of unpleasant exchange or meltdown in our very near future. Under the table, I squeezed Baz's thigh, pulling his attention to my phone screen, which read that our cab would be at the bottom of the driveway in ten minutes. A fleeting glance was all I needed to know that he was relieved to say the least. I could practically hear him whispering his commonly sarcastic catchphrase in my ear: "I've never loved you more, Snow." My lips tugged up at the thought our inside jokes, of being alone with him again, away from all of this hatred and animosity. After reading my text, Baz cleared his throat through the heavy silence, declaring that we would be leaving soon, seeing as it's quite a drive back to my apartment. I had to suppress a grin at my boyfriend's subtle, yet ever-so purposeful mention of the fact that we'd both be headed back to my apartment. After uncomfortable goodbyes and stiff hugs made their rounds, we were out the door with Tupperware dishes of leftovers in our hands. Once on the doorstep, the two of us stopped and sighed, taking in the crisp winter evening air and exhaling the unpleasantness of what we had just endured. Snaking both arms around my waist, Baz rested his head on the shoulder of my coat, strands of his raven hair falling piecely out of place. Instinctually, I began to rub his back. He didn't have to say what he was thinking. I knew. Without being prompted, I murmured into his ear the only thought that kept me alive during our hellish evening.

"I'd do anything for you, love."

My heart squeezed at my own words, just as Baz lifted his head and left a lingering press on my lips. Then, hand in hand, we left. Together.

Now, the two of us are slouched in the backseat of a cab, our knee caps lightly bumping together with each pothole in the twisting country road. My eyes feel as if they have a film stretched over them, like I'm witnessing the world through my eyelids. About a half an hour away from my place, Baz slices the silence, his voice extra deep and grumbly (A surefire sign that he's had quite enough for one evening).

"I'm really sorry you had to sit through that. My family is... gah, I don't even kn-"

I cut him off.

"Baz, I already told you. I'd do anything for you. If being your boyfriend means that two or three times a year I have to endure an uncomfortable evening with your family, then I will do it. No questions asked." I reach over and lay my hand on his leg, immediately met with the coolness of his own palm rested on top.

"I know, Simon. I know, and I thank Crowley every day of my life that I got lucky enough to find someone like you, but... you deserve to have a family, too. I don't mean this to sound the wrong way, but unfortunately, my dreaded family is the only one you really have. I wish they could be more for you. Or at least... not be disgusted by your very presence. That would be a plus, huh?" Baz sighs, turning his head to stare out his window.

I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to say to that, if I'm honest. I mean, I guess... I guess he's right. Technically, anyway. I'd never really thought of it that way. Just because I don't have a mum and dad to coo after me or siblings to rough house with doesn't mean I don't have a family. I have Penelope and her folks (however much they don't care for me, they wouldn't kick me away if I showed up), Agatha's family still treat me as one of their own, and... Baz. Baz is more than enough. And besides...

"I don't want them." The words come out crunchy and tumble over one and other. He turns to face me quite quickly.

"What?"

"Sure, I don't have a traditional family in any sense, but I have you. I don't expect, or-or even want  your blasted family to be my own." My heart rate steadily rises along with my voice, as all of the frustration from this evening finally finds its escape through my unstoppable ramble. "Baz, with the utmost respect, I report to you that your family, you know, the ones whom we just spent three hours of sour silence with, are a bunch of close-minded arseholes! Your siblings are weirdly robotic little creatures of perfection, your stepmother is whipped as hell and can't formulate any personal thoughts, and your father is the king of arrogant pricks. The man refuses to even look at you in the eye anymore, just because of who you choose to screw! They're terrible people! I don't want them, I want you!"

It's rare that my boyfriend is at a loss for words. But it's also rare that I go off on a rant of such epic proportions... he ogles at me from across the seat. Just sits there, dumbfounded and gaping. I could almost swear I smell myself smoking, though I can't exactly "go off" like I used to anymore.

After a few silent moments, I've calmed down slightly, and am almost beginning to worry that I've offended him. But then...

He breaks in to raucous bouts of laughter, his shoulders shaking as if from sobs. Now it's my turn to ogle. I have never seen my boyfriend quite like this. He continues to roar with glee, occasionally flicking away tears from the corners of his eyes. It takes me a minute to realize that my face has broken into possibly the largest smile I've ever mustered, but once I have, I fall away in to my own chortles. So here we sit. Busting up in the back seat of a station wagon, the cabbie in the front seat eyeing us curiously from the rear view mirror as we laugh at our own misfortune. With each passing second, it all falls away. Baz's arrogant family, my lack of a family, all of it.

Eventually, we collect ourselves, my ribs aching and my vision blurred. Slowly, Baz becomes stable again, still smiling wider than I've ever seen on him.

"Crowley, that was fantastic. I love you so much, my god." He chokes on his words, almost snorting in between each one. "Snow, will you just marry me already? I'm never gonna find anyone else who will unapologetically slam my entire family like that, and I really need to hear it sometimes, believe me."

Feeling high off of giggles and floating ten feet up, I'm barely able to process his words. The weight of them doesn't register, but my answer does.

"Yes."

A beat of silence passes, in which I notice that our hands are still layered on top of each other. He squeezes mine, just slightly.

In an airy, angelic voice that has never come out of my boyfriend before, he asks through his beaming smile, "Did we just get engaged in the back of a cab?"

"I think so." My own voice is almost unrecognizable to even me. The only possible explanation I can find is that I've never been this happy.

"Brilliant."