Chapter Text
Simon
It’s May. I know that his finals are coming in a couple of weeks. I know it’s important. But if Baz really wanted to focus on studying, he shouldn’t look so cute while doing it! He’s sitting at his desk, a book propped on a stand that I got him to save his back. (An ace gift suggestion from Penny.) He’s squinting at the page, his perfectly arched brows furrowed. He does that when there’s an important point he wants to understand fully and remember. He’s vaguely chewing on the inside of his cheeks, which makes his lips look like he’s pouting. His hair falls in loose waves around his face. His knee is bouncing absently. He’s wearing tight jeans and a dark green dress shirt with the top three buttons open.
And I’m supposed to leave him be.
I’m not supposed to get out of bed. I’m not supposed to walk up behind him. I’m not supposed to let my tail wrap around his forearm or bury my face in his hair and inhale or run my hands from his shoulders down his chest.
“Snow…” Baz warns.
I ignore him, take another deep breath of his scent, and let it out with a sigh.
“That’s distracting, Snow,” Baz says.
I drop my head further so I can say, “mmm…” into his ear before biting it gently.
“That wasn’t an invitation or a compliment. Finals are coming.” Baz’s tone is crisp, proper. But I can hear the tension. I know I’m getting to him.
“No fair,” I murmur into his ear. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Things like what?” Baz says.
“You can’t look this cute and talk about finals coming, Baz,” I whine. “I want to be coming!”
“For fuck’s sake, Snow!” Baz snaps. “I’m in grad school. I have to study. If you can’t stand to see it, then you need to get a fucking hobby so that you have somewhere else to go.”
I kiss his neck under his ear and use my hands to swivel his desk chair around to face me so I can sit in his lap, straddling his legs. I look up and meet his eyes, only inches away. His pupils dilate and I know I’ve won. “Tell me to stop,” I challenge.
He rolls his eyes, but he kisses me. “I can take a ten minute break,” he says, “but then I have to get back to work. And you have to either deal with it or go to another room. You got that?”
I nod.
Baz
Simon Snow is going to be the death of me. I’m not kidding when I say that he needs to get a hobby. I need him to get out of the flat. It’s impossible to get anything done with him around. The scent of him, the sound of his heart quickening pace when he looks at me, the feeling of his eyes watching me, the casual little touches that he knows makes me lose my composure. I’m trying to get my doctorate. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t think about anything but my boyfriend like a hormonal teenager?
Simon
I left the flat! Baz is going to be thrilled.
At least partially thrilled.
I left the flat so that I can pick him up from class and walk him to lunch. That counts though! I’m out of the flat for something other than work.
I wait on a bench under a tree near the building where Baz’s class is. The squirrels around here are bold. One of them skitters right up to me and flicks its tail like it’s trying to shake me down for nuts. I don’t have any. Maybe next time, I can try to remember to bring some. No, who am I kidding? I’ll either forget or I’ll eat all of the nuts before I can get here.
“Shoo,” I say, “I don’t have anything for you, little buddy.”
The squirrel just chatters at me.
I look around. Classes haven’t let out. There isn’t really anyone around. I let my tail work its way out of my trackies and poke at the squirrel, but it scurries around, chasing the spade as my tail lashes back and forth. Okay, this is kind of adorable. Don’t get attached to a squirrel, Simon.
“You’d better go. My boyfriend might eat you.”
But my tail seems to think this game is hilarious. It has a mind of its own and keeps bouncing to and fro with the squirrel chasing after it. The tail is right. It often is. I’m giggling when the squirrel suddenly bolts for the tree, making me look up. Baz walks up to me and I quickly hide my tail again before any of his classmates can see it.
“What are you doing here, Snow?”
I smile up at him. “I thought I’d meet you for lunch. You said you wanted me to get out of the flat more.”
Baz laughs. “Yeah, and I also said you needed to get a hobby so you have something to do other than distract me from studying.”
“Whatever,” I say. “Lunch?”
“You’re insatiable!”
“Guilty.”
“Fine,” Baz helps me up. “Lunch. Then you let me go to my next class on time.”
“Deal,” I say and we start walking.
To get to the street with most of the restaurants and cafes, we have to cross a large courtyard. Today, there’s a big speaker with music playing. And there’s people dancing. It isn’t the ethereal ballroom style that Agatha tried to teach me, that Baz can do flawlessly. It doesn’t have that floating quality that makes it seem like the dancers somehow transcend the confines of human imperfection. This is something else.
Their posture isn’t posh and perfect. There’s something like an elastic tension being stretched and released between partners as they move together. Instead of floating off the ground, they seem to connect and bounce off of it.
I stop.
And then out of nowhere, one of the dancers is flying through the air. Not like I do. Not with wings. She does some kind of hop, amplified by her partner adding extra lift, and then spins around his back before flying back out to her starting position. Whoa. I had no idea that dancing could look like this.
“What is this, Baz?” I ask. “How come you and Agatha never tried something like this when you wanted to teach me to dance?”
Baz
Of course Simon would suddenly want to learn how to dance when he sees that throwing people is involved. I don’t know the name of the dance style, but the music is obviously jazz. “We can ask,” I say. Maybe this will get him to go out and do something other than work and make friends other than Bunce, Shepard, and me. I guide him over to the group, and a short, redheaded woman greets us and introduces herself as Aly. “What kind of dance is this?” I ask.
Aly smiles. “I’m so glad you asked! We’re the LSE Swing Dance Society. Today is World Lindy Hop Day, so we wanted to let people get a taste of this joyful dance style. If you’re interested in learning, we have lessons.”
“What’s World Lindy Hop Day?” Simon asks, his face open and earnest.
“Lindy Hop is one of several dance styles that fall under the swing umbrella.” Aly bounces subtly from foot to foot in time with the music while she’s talking. I’m not sure if she knows she’s doing it or not. “We celebrate World Lindy Hop Day on the birthday of Frankie Manning, who was one of the originators of the dance and also one of the driving forces behind its return to mainstream popularity worldwide.” She nods her head at the couple who had caught Simon’s attention earlier with the throw. The guy has his partner in his arms and in one moment it looks like he’s tripping her legs out from under her and in the next moment, she’s doing a backflip over his back to land in front of him.
Snow has stars in his eyes. I nod in his direction. “My boyfriend needs a hobby. When are your lessons?”
“The beginner lesson is Wednesday nights at 7:30,” Aly holds a flyer out to Snow. He takes it.
“Will they teach us how to do throws like that?” he asks.
Aly laughs. “Not in the beginner lessons. Also, aerials are really only safe in a competition or performance setting. We don’t do them when we’re social dancing.”
Snow’s smile falters a little, but he still watches the dancers, intrigued. “Oh. Right. Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry. This is super cool looking, but I need to take Baz to lunch before I make him late to his next class.”
“What’s your name?” Aly asks.
“Simon,” he extends his hand for her to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Simon. I hope to see you Wednesday!”
“You will,” I say. Even if I have to go with him the first time or two, getting him hooked on something like this will be worth it. Socializing that gets his energy out. This is exactly what he needs.