#i just... i'm not saying baz has scoliosis but i wouldn't be mad if he did yk

[vampire-named-gampire]

Carry On Countdown - Day 12

Another ficlet for @carryon-countdown! I wrote it in an hour so rip me and my time management skills and forgive me for any grammar mistakes. 

Prompt: Wings Word count: 1289 Rating: General Summary: 

The wings come with their disadvantages aka the trials and tribulations of trying to give your boyfriend a massage. 

BAZ

Simon is huffing and turning on the sofa. It’s a whole scene. He fluffs the pillow, lays back down on it for a few seconds before frowning and going back to tossing and turning. His tail is slashing around like it always does when he’s upset or frustrated.

“Are you alright there?” I ask as he fluffs his pillow for the third time. He just huffs and crosses his arms. “Simon, what’s wrong?” I ask again.

“It’s just… these damned wings! My back hurts!” he complains. “I can’t get myself comfortable.” With that, he throws himself down on the pillow face first and growls in frustration. “Penny said lying down would help.”

“Have you seen Dr Wellbelove about it?” I ask.

“He’s just going to talk about removing them,” Simon mumbles into his pillow. I still don’t know why Simon gets so upset at the idea of getting his wings removed – frankly, I don’t think he knows either – but he absolutely refuses to hear it, even though he often complains about his wings. Personally, I don’t mind them. And I sort of love his tail, even though I constantly poke fun at it. (It has a mind if its own, which is rather endearing.)

“Okay, how about this; I call Dr Wellbelove and tell him I have back pain and then we try whatever he tells me to do. How does that sound?” I ask.

“Okay,” he grumbles into the pillow. I pull out my phone.

“Is the pain in your upper back or lower back?” I ask while searching for Welby’s phone number in my contacts.

“Upper.”

“Dull or sharp?”

“Dull. Why are you asking me this?” he huffs.

“So that I can describe it to Dr Wellbelove, you numpty,” I say, rolling my eyes. I finally find his contact and press call.

“Dr Wellbelove, how can I help you?” a familiar voice picks up the phone. I’ve never been to Dr Wellbelove’s (it’s not like I can get sick), but I’ve seen him at the Club.

“Hello, this is Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch speaking,” I say coolly. (I’m not letting my phone-call anxiety get in the way of this.) “I have some back pain and I was wondering what I could do to make it better.”

“Well, a Get well soon always seems to help with these things. Or if that doesn’t work, you could try Early to bed, early to rise,” he says. Fuck. Simon doesn’t like people casting spells on him. My brain scrambles to find a solution to this problem.

“I have already tried that, but this is a fairly frequent issue and it seems like a waste of magic to be casting those spells every day. I was more solution oriented,” I say. Simon shoots me a weird look from the sofa.

“Aha, I see. And where does it hurt?”

I explain the pain the way Simon described it, hearing Dr Wellbelove’s aha-s on the other side of the line.  “Well, Basilton, I suggest you come see me sometime. From what you’ve described, it seems like you have scoliosis, but I can’t be sure until I see it for myself. For now, though, if it’s really a bother, I suggest some light exercise and stretching and get someone to give you a massage if you can. And avoid carrying heavy burdens. Now about that appointment—”

“Okay, I’ll try that, thank you!” I quickly say and hang up.

“And?” Simon asks.

“Scoliosis! He thinks I have scoliosis!” I erupt. “My posture is perfect!”

“Baz, about the back pain,” Simon says, laughing.

“Oh. He says you should try some light exercise and stretching, a massage and to avoid carrying heavy burdens.”

“Well, I can’t exactly follow up with that last one,” he says, flaring up his wings. “And I don’t have the money for a massage…”

I just stare at him. “Snow, I’m your boyfriend.”

“I’m not letting you pay for my massage!” he says. I sigh. How thick can he be?

“I can give you a massage.”

“Oh. You’d do that for me?” Simon asks, sounding a bit bewildered. It’s a work not to roll my eyes. Yes, Simon Snow, of course I’ll give you a fucking massage, you idiot, I’ll take any excuse to be close to you.

“Of course. How hard can it be?”

 As it turns out, it can be very fucking hard. We end up moving to his bed and he’s laying underneath me, shirtless, which is already a distraction enough in itself. It’s a work not to trace my hands along his moles.

It’s a work for him to keep his wings in check. I can’t even get my massage properly started, because he keeps knocking me with them.

“Crowley, Snow, keep your wings out of the way,” I sigh as he clips me again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into the pillow. His wings do come down a bit, but I have to be mindful not to hit a spot directly in between his wing joints, because if I do that, they’ll just come up again. I think it’s some sort of a reflex spot for him.

His tail keeps poking me in the back and nudging at me. It’s probably offended, because I’m straddling Simon’s hips and sitting right on his tail joint, but there’s really no better way to go around this.

I bring my hands to Simon’s back again and he yelps.

“Your hands are still cold,” he complains.

“Yes, I haven’t stopped being a vampire in the past five minutes, thank you for noticing,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“This is a disaster,” he says, and I can’t tell if he wants to cry or laugh.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask. He reaches behind his back, wrapping his finger around my wrist.

“Put your hands underneath my stomach,” he mumbles. “They’ll warm up.”

I swallow my nerves and do as he says. He’s right; the space between the blanket and his chest is (unsurprisingly) warm and I feel my hands warming up to more humanly temperatures immediately. His heart beats strong and steady underneath my fingertips.  

I lean forward until I’m lying with my stomach pressed to his back and my head on his shoulder and I feel his heartbeat quicken a little. His tail comes up around my waist – maybe it wanted me to do this this whole time.

“Baz?” Simon asks, his voice softer.

“We’re waiting for my hands to warm up.”

“Okay.”

I like this. I like feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath, his heartbeat underneath my hands and his tail tight around my waist. He’s so warm and he’s so alive and he’s mine against all odds. I press a kiss on his shoulder and let my body relax against his.

A loud pop sounds from underneath me and Simon groans. I quickly sit back up.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

Simon groans again and I realize it’s a groan of relief, not pain or discomfort.

“This is just what I needed,” he says.

“You needed your spine to make a very concerning sound?” I ask with my eyebrows raised. He groans again.

“This might be the best thing I ever experienced.”

I’m only slightly offended at that.

“So your back’s all better now?” I ask. I also come to the conclusion that human bodies are weird and slightly concerning. How can this possibly make him feel better? It sounded like I broke his spine, for Crowley’s sake!

“I think so,” he says.

“Do you still want me to give you a massage?”

He turns his head to me, a small smile playing on his lips. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.