𝕊𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕓𝕒𝕫 𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 (𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕤)

Fantasy pt 3

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Baz's POV

Simon glares at me all day long. All week long, actually. And I'm surprised we make it so long without him killing me; or me kissing him. . .

We even play football together at night occasionally. Of course fighting and arguing is inevitable, but. . So is the rare laugh.

I learnt much about Snow. Firstly, he's not an outright idiot. I mean, he still is a great thumping idiot; but. . He can also be perceptive and sensitive. At times. And he loves scones. He gobbles them ravenously every morning and at tea. Also, he seems to be insatiably hungry. He can always eat. Unlike me.

I also learnt that he snores lightly. And sleeps shirtless. And has nightmares; maybe that's our one similarity. Oh, and perhaps the fact that we both are quite great at football, and team captain. Although, I'm much better, obviously.

Simon's POV

I wake up dangerously close to Baz. Every morning that week. I always wake up before him, and weirdly I find myself playing with his impossibly soft obsidian hair as he sleeps. He looks so peaceful for once. . Some part of me, perhaps in a hiccup of tenderness and pity, wants to protect him. Keep him peaceful.

But I never let that part of me show. Not as we continue our growling and sneering. Not as our rivalry lives on the field. Not as we fight and get in trouble, especially not as we throw the occasional punch.

But I see something in his silver eyes before he falls asleep. I see hurt. When he looks at me. And I feel his eyes on me whenever I'm pretending to be asleep. I know he's watching me. And sometimes he pulls my curls out of my face gently. Or rubs my back when I'm having a nightmare. Never realizing that I'm awake.

And on the second last night, I awaken around 4 am.

Wrapped in Baz's arms.

Utterly shocked.

"Baz. . Psst!" I hiss, as his hold around my waist tightens. Oh fuck, his crotch is actually pressed against me. And he holds my waist so tight, I can't even turn around to see him. Unfortunately, I have a boner.

What the fuck? This is Baz Pitch, why do I have a boner?!

And he's a boy.

Do I like boys?

"What the hell, Snow?" He mumbles, awakening slightly. "Get away from me!" He scorns.

"You're the one who got all cuddly!" I yell, trying to keep my erection buried under the blankets, far away from his eyes.

"Sure I did," He says sarcastically, then his bored expression changes. Eyebrows furrow as he asks the question that will damn me. "What are you so shadily hiding in the blanket?"

"I'm not!" I blurt defensively.

Wow, the height of lameness has been reached, congratulations, Simon.

"You're the only idiot in the room, Snow." He quips. And he just stands up and heads towards his bathroom. Oh, he might want to play tonight. Maybe we can go together. I get up in pursuit of him, not really thinking, so I can ask to accompany him, and as I go for the knob I find that the door isn't locked. So I open it. Without knocking, in hopes of what? I'm not sure.

He's. . . Naked. Gloriously, very, very naked. A near six feet tall chiseled, porcelain, build. Beautifully carved. Wondrously muscled.

What am I thinking?

And then he turns around to look at me, and sees my ever-growing erection through my boxers. And stands there baffled, his confused expression matching my feelings.

And yet all I can imagine, is prowling towards him. . And then. . Planting my lips all over his cold, hard body.

For the first time I feel an aching desire, for Baz. All the heat traveling to my crotch at my wild thoughts. At all my memories of tackling him and pinning him down. . With very different outcomes.

My enemy.

"Get out. Now." He says looking back at me calmly, after a minute of me staring shamelessly. And slowly, I see what he fears. As he turns around to slam the door in my face, I catch a glimpse of his semi-erect.

Oh fuck.

What have we gotten ourselves into?

Baz's POV

I don't know why or how I latched onto Simon in the dead of the night, but I woke up to his ass rocking against my arousal. Leading to my arousal, really.

And that prat. . Playing with my heart. He's cruel. Yet, I have no explanation for his arousal except that he is somehow attracted to me.

Ah, hope. Wishful thinking.

He probably just dreamt about his girlfriend Wellbelove. If they're even together still. I heard she broke up with him before she found out I was hopelessly queer. I wonder how she'd feel if she knew I was hopelessly in love with her boyfriend too, especially while she was pining after me. It's a good thing I don't care much for her maiden-fair drama.

Simon Snow is agonizing enough. And very, very real.

I need to clear my head, I think, changing into shorts and a hoodie, so I can head out to the Football Pitch.