Snowbaz: On Holdiay

Chapter 1

Baz

Snow was visiting Watford for break. I decided to finish out the year, after much nagging on his part, and I didn't exactly want to spend holiday at his crummy flat. Penny was away visiting Micah, so I certainly didn't want to leave Snow alone for a whole week.

Pretty much everyone left the school grounds, including the teachers and chefs, which meant it was practically just Snow and me. Alone. The thought of that a year ago would have made me furious, and I would have likely pushed Snow out a window or something. Now, I could think of a hundred other things I wanted to do with Snow besides plan his downfall (Insert my devilishly handsome smirk here).

I met Snow at the gates, and nearly passed out at the sight of him. It had been almost two months since I saw him last, which meant his hair had gone nearly two months without a trim. I was the only one who forced him to keep up with his grooming, since he barely left the flat anymore, and now he looked like Ebb used to when she came back from working in the fields; scraggly, sweaty, and kind of like an animal himself.

"You filthy wretch, look at yourself!" I shouted, still ten feet from the gate. Snow rolled his eyes and shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder. He was wearing black sweatpants and a red jumper, most likely recycled from the past few days. His curly bronze hair fell to his jaw, looking crunchy and dead. I reached the gate, but didn't move to open it yet; instead, I grabbed the big iron bars and pressed my face up to the cold metal.

"Are you going to let me in or are you going to just stand there and insult me?" Snow asked, and I shrugged.

"I think I'll take the latter,"

"Not funny,"

"Just a bit," I mumbled. He shook his head, but I knew he fed on my banter. Sick bastard.

"So... can I come in now?" Snow asked again, and I pretended to consider it, pulling wand my from my back pocket to examine it. I was wearing pressed black trousers and a blood colored vest, just to flex on his own outfit. I knew it bothered him, which was partly why I put so much effort into my appearance. I wanted my clothes to scream, This is for you, Snow. Shove it!

"I have a price," I offered, staring at him from under my eyelids. He pretended to look angry, but Snow couldn't hide the red that flooded his cheeks.

"Name it," he mumbled, and I could tell that he was anxious. His voice was shaking, and he wasn't fully focused on me. I reached through the bars and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him closer, so we were only inches apart.

Snow looked over both shoulders and I silently wondered what it could be about. I knew it was tough, being here without magic and all, but that wasn't what I was getting from him. It felt like he was looking for something, waiting for a creature to jump out of the woods and maul him.

"A kiss," I stated, almost like a challenge. This made Snow's head snap over to me, surprised. Catching him off guard was one of my favorite things; his blue eyes got all wide and his mouth fell open and that morning breath that seemed to linger all day would travel up my nose and for some reason, it made me love him more.

Without even responding, Snow's lips came crashing into mine. I fought back my fangs, which longed to pop out and hold tight and drain every ounce of blood and being from Simon. His lips were hot and I wasn't expecting it, which made our kiss even more pleasant. I felt Snow's tongue against my teeth and couldn't hide the blush that crept across my cheeks.

Weak. Get ahold of yourself, I chided.

Snow quickly pulled his lips back from mine and I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath that came afterwards. Snow smirked, even though he looked as sheepish as I felt. I didn't let myself show him exactly how good of a kisser he was, but I had a feeling he already knew.

"Okay, get in here before I change my mind."