Chapter Text
“Baz, does it look like I’m kidding?”
Simon sat, thoroughly enjoying himself, on Baz’s lap. In a scanty bunny costume. That he truly planned on wearing out of the house.
Baz was fully content with his own costume; a pair of plastic vampire fangs, with a grey suit and slicked back hair… For the bantz.
But there was no way Simon was dragging him to a club, dressed as a sexy bunny, on halloween. Or any other time, for that matter. It didn’t matter that Simon was sitting on his lap, or that his skin was hot, or that he was wearing fucking fishnet thigh highs… There was just no way.
Until he and Penelope Bunce were sitting together at the bar in the aforementioned club, and Simon was on the dance floor, motioning for Baz to join him. Sexy bunny costume in all its glory along with him.
“Why did you come here? He’s not your significant embarrassment. You don't have to deal with him. Merlin and Morgana, you could have stayed home and watched a few scary movies, with some hot chocolate! In your pajamas!” Baz found himself desperately wishing for what Bunce could have had.
“Oh, no. Simon is my significant embarrassment and he has been since year one. Also,” she paused, a mischievous smile spreading across her lips. “I’ve been competing with you since year one. So I’m mostly here to witness your embarrassment.”
“I am not going out there to dance with Snow. Under any circumstances.”
She giggled— giggled— and peaked through her red framed glasses at something behind me. “That’s where you’re wrong, Basilton. Turn around.”
I did. That was my first mistake; listening to Bunce.
Simon immediately was on me, arms wrapped around my neck, almost completely bare thighs sat on my own, and his lips were on mine and it was messy. Disgustingly messy, but I couldn’t help but remember how much I wanted this back at Watford, how much I still want this now. I’ve never minded messy when it came to kissing Simon. So I kissed back.
That was my second mistake.
I had a habit of falling into Simon when we kissed. I went along with anything and everything, and this time was no exception. He dragged me to the dance floor without even breaking our lips apart.
When I fully came to my senses, I was astonished. Amazed. I guess Simon has a way with his body, if he can’t have his way with words. (He can’t. Ever. Simon Snow is an absolute mumbling, stuttering mess when he gets going.)
He was slow dancing with me to upbeat techno music that I had absolutely no taste for, and he was running his fingers in my hair and jumping around the other times. Generally, I’ve found, Simon Snow likes to make an ass out of himself in public. Wearing a scanty bunny costume was nowhere near enough embarrassment.
I refused to go back to my seat. Penelope Bunce will be there with her stupid mischievous grin and her stupid purple hair. Purple? Red, then blue, now purple?
I really didn’t need her acting smug now. So I’ll stay on this dance floor. And I will enjoy myself, until she decides she’s bored sitting alone and leaves.
Simon has his lips on me again, but they’re everywhere but my mouth, and no lower than the collarbone. In fact, he’s ravishing my collar bones right now and I can’t get enough of the feeling. “Simon,” I say, and I’m not sure if he heard me over the music or if he felt the vibrations on my throat, but he lifted his head anyways.
And then I had my mouth on his neck, and I bit him.
For the first time in our lives, I bit Simon Snow.
Of course, it was protected biting. I wouldn’t even dream of baring my teeth anywhere near his neck in any other situation; my green (possibly glow in the dark), plastic “vampire fangs” protected Snow from harm, and I went at it.
And he enjoyed it. I know, because I felt him shudder.
I’m not sure how long we’d gone on. This was brand new territory for Simon and I, and we wanted to explore it as much as possible without getting kicked out of this God Forsaken club.
By the time I turned back to the bar I’d been sitting, Penelope was long gone. New people had already established their place in our seats. I think this is a win on my part, but I feel uneasy.
“Simon, let’s go home.”
And I think he was just one sip too drunk to say no to me.
We made it home in one peace (thank Merlin) and I practically dragged a giggling, clingy mess of Snow up the stairs.
When we walked in, Bunce was watching a scary movie. With hot chocolate. In her pajamas.
It suddenly became clear to me that I had not won. The uneasiness I felt back in the club was one hundred percent called for, because Penelope Bunce got the best of both worlds. Not only did she get to watch Simon embarrass himself and me, she got to go home when she wanted to. She got to watch scary movies. With hot chocolate. In her pajamas.
I was infuriated.
“You can join me, Basil. I know this was your ideal night.”
And I took her up on the offer, even though Snow was begging me for attention. He’s like a child. All I had to do to get him to calm down and go to sleep was open the window, but only a crack because Crowley, Snow, it’s freezing, and kiss his forehead.
My Halloween night was spent with Penelope Bunce, in pajamas, with hot chocolate, watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. And it wasn’t half bad.