Carry On Oneshots

Just Another Minute (snowbaz)

Baz filled his suitcase with various things. Stalling rather than packing. He stared at his Watford uniform before throwing it in. He wasn't sure if he'd be coming back ever again. Then again if he dies... it wouldn't matter what he did and didn't have with him. For that exact possibility, he had yet to tell Simon.

He wasn't going to.

Just then, of course, the famous Simon Snow himself just had to walk in with half a sandwich in his hand and the other half in his mouth. He stopped dead in his tracks at the end of Baz's bed at the sight of the almost full suitcase.

"Wha on earf are you doing?" Simon said before swallowing the sandwich and shoving in the other half.

"Bloody hell Snow, didn't you ever learn to chew your food?" Baz folded his arms defiantly, hoping that he'd ask more incessant questions that led to a greater stall. The last thing he wanted to do was get into his aunt's car. Backseat, specifically.

"Why are you packing?" Simon brushed his hands off on his trousers and stood on the other side of Baz's bed.

"I'm leaving."

"Wha- why?" his mouth hung open in shock. Baz would never voluntarily leave Watford. Something had to be up.

"Pitch business, none of yours," Baz tried to throw some more clothes into his suitcase but Simon caught them before they fell in. "Snow, I'm not up for games."

"You're not leaving Watford. We have a test tomorrow."

"All the more reason to leave now."

"Penelope will score the very top of the class and you won't be there for second place. Can't you tell me anything?"

Baz sighed, frustrated, trying to put clothes in while Simon took them right back out. "Look it'll be dangerous and that's all you have to know. If your lucky, you'll have the biggest room in the school to yourself and Bunce can sleepover whenever she pleases," he reached over the bed and blocked Simon's hands. He grabbed Baz's shoulders instead. They stared at each other long and hard. Arguing with their eyes.

"Then I'm going with you," Simon gazed sharply and Baz's stomach did a loop inside of him.

"What? No," he tried to protest but Simon was already throwing a suitcase of his own onto his bed.

"Too late, I'm going."

"No Simon you don't understand. It's dangerous to go with me. It'd be like throwing yourself into shark-infested waters but bathing in loads of chum beforehand."

Simon made a face. "Gross, but enticing."

Baz marched over to him and grabbed his wrists, stopping another pile of clothes from going in. "Simon... please."

"Baz, please. Let. Me. Help."

He shook his head. "I can do it without you. People close to me always get hurt. I... I don't want you to be one of them."

"Then I won't get close to you," Simon looked up under Baz's eyebrows to find his gaze, "but I'm not letting you go alone either."

"You're a fool if you think you'll be different than the rest."

"Why? Because you're 'oh so likable?' Trust me, I won't get close to an egotistic brat like you," Simon reached up, pushing Baz's hair behind his ears, letting himself lean forward into his words.

"Promise me?" Baz dropped his head down and moved his arms around Simon's waist, not expecting that he would let him.

Simon breathed out quietly, "Fine, I promise," he pushed his mouth slowly onto Baz's, waiting for him to pull away but it was welcomed warmly.

It was five-second heaven.

Simon pulled his mouth away as slow as possible before pressing into Baz's chest. "Brat."

Baz smiled to himself and pulled Simon in, even more, lacing his fingers through his hair.

"If we're gonna do this we should finish packing."

Simon curled deeper into Baz's existence, inhaling his scent as if he were cherishing every molecule, "We will, just one more minute."