#it's pretty much unedited and was written on my phone while i was half asleep so... sorry if it sucks lol

[television-overload]

The Most Popular Man in D.C.

(X-Files Fanfic)

[read on AO3]

-.-.-

In the months after Scully is returned from her abduction, Mulder starts getting catcalled on the street on an almost daily basis. At first, he doesn't think much of it, but after a few weeks, he finds it odd enough to mention to her.

She walks into the basement to find him putting pins in a map of D.C., hunched over his desk in concentration.

"Mulder?" she asks with an amused look on her face, paused in the doorway with her eyebrow arched.

With a brief glance up at her, he asks, "Scully, do you think I'm attractive?" Her hand almost slips off the door handle.

Her mouth falls open to answer, but she has no clue what words might come out. What is it he's wanting her to say? He doesn't look like he's joking. In fact, he looks deadly serious.

"I–"

"I just mean, if you saw me on the street, would you—you know—whistle at me?"

His question startles a chuckle from her throat, loosening her tongue. "Whistle?" She stares at him incredulously. Where is this coming from?

"Yeah," he says. "Whistle, wave, shower me with unsolicited compliments?"

Normally, she might laugh, assuming this to be one of the goofy bits he does when he's in a good mood, but something genuinely seems to be concerning him.

"Why do you ask?" she says, brows furrowing as she enters the room fully, shutting the door behind her.

He puts another pin on the map, near the grocery store she knows he goes to near his apartment in Alexandria.

"Scully, in the last month or so, I've been catcalled by random women nearly every day, all over D.C." he begins. "On my run, at the gym, even once when I went to pick up more fish food at the pet store. All over."

"Catcalled, Mulder?" she asks.

"Yes!"

"Is that so unusual?"

His brows slant in clear concern. He needs her reassurance.

"Look, you're a... not wholly unattractive guy," she starts cautiously. "And these places—the gym, the park where you run... You'd be covered in sweat, wearing that— that sleeveless Knicks shirt you have..." She trails off, blushing profusely and hoping her hair conceals it.

"But, the PET store, Scully," he insists, thankfully too worked up to notice her pink cheeks. He gestures wildly at the map before him. "All of these pins are places where I remember it happening. All in the last month."

Oh boy. "Putting that eidetic memory to good use, I see," she says. She surveys his slightly manic appearance, gauging how worried she needs to be about his state of mind.

"There's a clear concentration in certain areas," he says, ignoring her comment. "Look: about four blocks from my apartment, see? There's a cluster of them, all near this corner."

She looks where he is pointing, and indeed, there are six pins huddled close to each other while others are more spread out.

"Do you have a theory?" she can't believe she asks.

"I was hoping you would," he says, a little defeated.

Well, if she's not about to be dragged into a wild goose chase investigation based on some theory he's concocted, then she's back to finding this entire situation hilarious again. "Why should I have a theory?" she asks, suppressing a smile as she crosses her arms and looks up at him.

"I don't know," he says, shrugging awkwardly. "You're a... a woman."

She rolls her eyes. "Thank you for noticing."

"No, but maybe you have some insight. A different perspective."

"Some kind of womanly intuition?" she asks doubtfully, challengingly.

"Well, yeah."

She purses her lips. She has no immediate answer for him, so the office falls silent. He slumps back into his chair, looking far more bedraggled than he ought to at just past 8:00 am.

No, Mulder, she doesn't have some insider secret about the female mind to explain this so-called phenomenon away, but... Man, that is a lot of pins on the map. All in the last month, he says?

Why are her toes tapping incessantly on the floor beneath the desk?

"Mulder," she starts, hardly believing the words that are about to come out of her mouth. "If you're that worried about it, maybe we should go check out some of these areas of concentration."

He looks up at her, just as surprised to hear the suggestion come from her lips.

"Really?"

She wants to roll her eyes again, but there's a knot of something she refuses to acknowledge as jealousy in her chest that prevents her from doing so.

"Only if you're that concerned," she says, hoping she sounds firm and not at all interested in why her partner is getting hit on by women left and right.

He fumbles his way to his feet, stabbing himself in the palm with a pin accidentally in the process. He curses under his breath and shakes his hand out while eagerly shoving his arm in his jacket sleeve. "Okay," he says. "I think we should start by my gym, that's where it happens the most."

"Fine," she agrees stiffly, trying not to picture him breathless after a workout and surrounded by his loving admirers.

She drives, because she needs something to do with her hands. He navigates. It's his steps they're retracing, after all. He knows best what direction they need to head in.

They park on the street, exiting the car and getting a feel of their surroundings.

"There's my gym," he points out. She's not exactly sure what they're looking for, but she keeps her eyes peeled all the same.

After a few minutes spent wandering near the entrance, she's about to call it quits, but then a muscular little brunette calls out from across the street, grinning from ear to ear as she shouts, "Woo! I'd pay your dry cleaning bill just to watch you work out in that suit, handsome!"

Before either of them has time to respond, or even come to terms with what just happened, the woman disappears into a storefront. A yoga studio, Scully deduces from the sign out front.

"See?" Mulder says, swinging his hand out toward the other side of the street. The suddenness of his speech startles her out of her tense posture, and she forces her shoulders to relax.

"I give her points for creativity," she says, marching primly back to the car and throwing the driver's side door open.

The next place they drive is the grocery store, just a stone's throw away from his apartment building. Once again, she parks, and they wander about, but this time, their fellow pedestrians are blissfully silent. She looks around. There's the grocery store. Beside it, a pawn shop. On the other side, a place selling herbal supplements... and possibly also other "herbal" remedies. RadioShack across the street. Not much going on at—she checks her watch—8:47 am.

"Notice anything unusual?" she asks, watching as an older couple hobbles into the grocery store arm-in-arm.

His shoulders lift in a shrug. "It's quieter than usual," he says. "I'm not usually here this early on a week day."

She nods. This stop might have been a bust, but at least she didn't have to hear another cheesy one-liner directed at Mulder.

They're not so lucky at the next, and—she decides—final stop.

About a block down from the coffee shop in Georgetown that he frequents when he has to wake her at an ungodly hour, two women loiter outside a shop advertising high-quality tattoos and piercings. One takes a drag from her cigarette, then calls out, "Let's see a smile on those pouty lips!" The other woman chuckles, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

Mulder gives an awkward smile and nod in their direction, and Scully promptly grabs him by the arm, ushering him hurriedly back to the car.

She stews in silence on the drive back to the Hoover building. She knows she has no right to do so, and yet...

"You see what I mean, Scully?" he asks. "You gotta agree that something's unusual."

Does she? He's an attractive man. YES, okay, she's attracted to him. Can she fault other women for noticing? Maybe they could do to keep their mouths shut and leave him alone, sure, but wouldn't most men kill to have that kind of attention given to them?

"I don't know," she answers, her hands gripping the wheel.

"I'm serious. I've lived here for years, and this has never happened before. Then all of a sudden..."

"You're reading too much into it," she snaps. Then, softening her tone, "I mean, if they won't leave you alone, tell them to back off. Tell them you're an FBI agent and can arrest them for harrassment."

"Scully..."

"It's not an X-File, Mulder," she says decisively. "We've missed enough work as it is. Just forget about it."

His jaw shifts like he's about to argue her point, but instead he says the words she's always longed to hear from him.

"You're probably right."

-.-.-

She tries to forget about it.

On Thursday, he cheekily informs her that he had been called a "handsome devil" that morning while stopping by the bank. Friday, the descriptive term is decidedly less work-friendly, but he saunters in looking quite pleased with himself.

Gee, she sure is glad she told him not to worry about all the attention he's getting. Now, he actually seems to be enjoying it.

The weekend can't come soon enough. At 5:00 on the dot, she bids goodbye to his boyish smile and wishes him a good weekend. At home, she finishes off half a bottle of wine and watches some trashy reality TV until it's bedtime, and she promptly passes out.

-.-.-

Saturday, she wakes up feeling stupid. After popping a few advil, she deep cleans her kitchen, tossing out the now empty bottle of wine and even dusting on top of her cabinets, a task that requires standing precariously on the countertop with a featherduster in hand.

As the clock ticks closer to noon, though, she begrudgingly pulls herself away from her work and readies herself for her afternoon commitment with her sister. On the way to Melissa's dumpy—temporary—apartment, she picks up lunch from her favorite Chinese place. It's been months since Melissa came to town. She's not the kind to stay put in one place for long. If Scully hadn't been abducted, or whatever it was that happened to her, Missy wouldn't have been there in the first place.

The apartment is one she'd found on short notice when she heard what had happened, and came to support their mother throughout the ordeal. It pays by the month, and has a serious ant problem in the kitchen, but otherwise isn't the absolute worst living situation Scully could fathom. She liked having her sister nearby, even if it was only for a while.

Now, the ceaseless call of adventure summons Melissa once more, and it is time to go. Scully had promised to help her pack her things this weekend, and now the day is here.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" she asks, loathing how the sentence makes her sound like her 15 year old self when Missy had first left home for her first (and only) year of college.

"You don't need me, Dana," her sister says. "Besides, you know I can only handle so much of Mom telling me what I should be doing with my life."

"She means well," Scully assures her.

"I know she does," Missy says with a smile. "And I know you're no stranger to doing the complete opposite of what she tells you, too."

Scully breathes out a laugh.

"Come on, help me take these boxes down to the moving truck." Melissa shucks her jacket off, tying it around her waist in preparation for the physical labor it would take to carry multiple loads of boxes down four flights of stairs. One of the worst features of this apartment building is it's permanently broken elevator. Moving in must have been a nightmare.

Bending to pick up her first box, Scully catches a glimpse of something on Missy's right wrist, visible now that her jacket has come off.

"What's that?" she asks, brows furrowing.

"Hmm?" her sister asks. Her eyes follow Dana's to the marking on her skin on the underside of her arm. "Oh, I got that while you were in the hospital. You're like 90% of my impulse control, Dana."

Her teasing tone does not negate the heaviness that comes from mentioning that horrific time for her family. That time when she was all but lost to all those who knew her.

"What is it?" she asks.

Missy sets her box back down, and Scully does the same. "Check it out," she says, drawing closer so Scully can see.

On her wrist is a small cross tattoo, remarkably similar in shape and size to the cross Scully wears around her neck.

Strange. She's fairly certain Melissa hasn't been to mass in years, much to their mother's chagrin.

"Why?" she asks, genuine confusion lacing her voice.

"Don't go all 'Mom' on me, Dane," Missy jokes, smacking her in the shoulder. "It's just a tattoo."

Scully shakes her head. "No, I mean, why that? Why a cross?"

"Oh." Melissa looks down at her wrist in thought, then back up at Dana. "It just... seemed to be the thing to do."

"Something to remember me by?" Scully tries to joke, though she's aware of how morbid that sounds, to live to see the way her sister planned to memorialize her.

"Actually, no," Melissa corrects. "It was your partner."

Huh?

"Mulder?" Scully asks, wondering how on earth her necklace—the symbol of Christianity—relates to her unbelieving partner.

"Yeah, it was— Look, it's not really my place to tell, but I saw the way he relied on that necklace of yours for strength while you were gone. Not once did I see him take it off. It was like, if he didn't let go of it, then he wasn't letting go of you. I admire that."

Scully still doesn't understand. "So, the tattoo..."

"Is a reminder to have hope," Melissa finishes. "To have that same belief in others that Fox had for you, even when things looked hopeless and we almost gave up."

Scully's heart twists painfully.

This marking on her sister's body is tangible proof of what Scully has known all along:

That her partner is something special. That his uncommon belief in the unbelievable leaves an impact, not just on her, but on others whom he interacts with.

She still finds it hard to fathom that there had been weeks and months where Mulder was out there, spending time with her mother and sister while she was missing, or lying comatose on a hospital bed.

"When you came back, and when you got better, I knew it was him that saved you," Missy says softly, as if she can hear her thoughts and doesn't want to disrupt them. "I know it's him."

Her sister's piercing eyes meet hers seriously, and she turns away, lifting the box back into her arms to serve as a distraction.

"We don't want to keep the movers waiting," she says, forcing her thoughts away from Mulder. Away from the dangerous thoughts that had filled her head all week.

Missy's eyes brighten, and she grins.

"Don't keep him waiting," she warns.

-.-.-

Scully hands her sister the last of the boxes, and Missy stands up in the back of the truck, brushing the dust off her hands with a satisfied sigh.

"That's the last of it," she says proudly. "Oh, wait—"

She turns quickly, rummaging through a few boxes before triumphantly extracting a small piece of paper.

"Here, give that back to Fox, will you?" she says, handing it to Scully.

"What's this?" she asks, turning the glossy paper in hand to look at it properly.

In her hand, she holds a photo of Mulder from one of the times he'd been locked up on trespassing charges that ultimately wouldn't hold. He'd gotten a kick out of getting his mugshot taken, and so had requested a copy of it upon his release, and the small sheriff's department in Idaho had granted his wish.

But why did Melissa have it?

"I stole it from his apartment," she says, answering her unspoken question. "Made some copies, spread them around."

"You— you did what with them?"

"Just gave them to some friends," she says, smirking as she plops down on the edge of the truck bed. "You know I make friends wherever I go."

"Yeah, but why?"

The conspiratorial smile on her sister's face comes straight out of their childhood.

"Has Fox been getting an unusual amount of attention when walking around D.C. lately?" she asks nonchalantly, concealing a wider grin.

"Missy, you didn't!" Scully says, her jaw dropping.

"You didn't see him, Dane! He needed a pick-me-up!" Melissa raises her hands in defense, smiling at her sister's reaction.

Scully scoffs, but only to prevent a burst of astonished laughter from escaping. "A pick-me-up, not someone to pick him up," she says in as chastising a voice as she can manage.

Only Melissa would do something like this. She should have known.

"So it did work after all," Missy surmises. "Good. He needed a confidence boost. Has his ego inflated terribly?"

This time, Scully does laugh. "Sure, maybe after he got over the paranoia of suddenly being the most popular man in Washington, D.C."

"I guess it would come as a shock," Missy says, eyes bright with mirth.

Scully smacks her sister in the arm. "He was convinced it was some kind of conspiracy!"

"Oh, well," Missy says. "The real conspiracy is how you won't hit on that man yourself."

She's going to miss her sister, she reminds herself. Just be glad she's been in town this long.

Nope. She still wants to throttle her.

She shakes her head.

"Melissa..."

-.-.-

The compliments—because Scully refuses to call them catcalls—continue for the next few months, though with decreasing frequency.

After thinking it over for the weekend, she decides not to tell him. Maybe some day, years from now, when they can laugh about it.

For now, she lets other women say her thoughts aloud, and delights in the way his cheeks turn rosy when she's with him to hear their cheesy pick-up lines.

She wonders how she didn't notice before, the way these women look just like people Melissa would hang around with. Choker necklaces around their necks, Doc Martin shoes... Mulder was onto something with his map. The gym: across the street from a yoga studio that Missy had gone to a few times. The herbal supplement place, one that Missy had definitely stopped by on occasion. The tattoo parlor. Self-explanatory.

Now that she's in on the secret, whenever it happens, it's like Missy is there for a second. It makes her feel less far away. She thinks of these women being handed a photocopied flyer with Mulder's face on it, and wonders what on earth Missy had specifically told them to do.

Whatever it was, it had been effective.

Funny. She never really pictured introducing her sister to her partner, but now she wonders how she didn't see it before. She's glad Missy stepped in to look after him while she was gone, even if it involved a prank of questionable taste. She wouldn't have expected any less from her sister. And maybe that was just what Mulder needed.

She tells him at the funeral.

It's too early to find the humor in it, like she'd hoped they would someday. But his lips do curl into a small smile. Remembering.

It still happens on occasion after that. And when it does, Mulder takes Scully's hand and whispers, "See? She's never really gone."

Melissa Scully had left her mark on Washington, D.C., even in the short time she'd been there. She left her mark on Mulder in the same way.

Years down the line, when the number of Mulder's admirers has dwindled to one, Scully lies awake, picturing his face as he whispered sweet words to her. His constant. His touchstone.

"You were right, Missy," she breathes into the still air of her lonely apartment. Sometimes it feels haunted by her ghost. Tonight, that brings her comfort. "You were right."

She thinks she hears the echo of a sultry whistle.

-.-.-

Tagging: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf

[wholesomemendes]

Birthday Boy

Summary: It’s Shawn’s 22nd Birthday and you’re celebrating with him before his big party.

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday Shawn! Ok couple things: 1) I’m sorry I haven’t been as active recently I should be posting something next week 2) We’re going to pretend covid isn’t a thing in this fic because he’s going to a party 3) This is unedited and I had to rush the ending because I’m leaving for dance in 5 minutes and I haven’t eaten or done my hair yet 4) I don’t know what this picture is but it was all I decided on in my two seconds of searching. Anyways it’s 1.7k of fluff so I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always loved and appreciated!

The bright light of the sun began to peak its head into the cozy bedroom of the condo you shared with your boyfriend. You could feel his soft breath on your neck from where his head was cuddled into your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around you and your back flush against his chest. Your legs were tangled together and Shawn’s grip on your body wasn’t letting up anytime soon, but you managed to carefully maneuver your body so that you were able to face him comfortably. Being so close to him allowed you to take a moment to just appreciate the man in front of you, the one that loved you unconditionally every single day and owned your entire heart. His lashes fanned over his face, his cheeks tinted red from sleep, leading you to brush up a gentle hand to graze over his soft skin. You brought your hand up to his mop of curls that were perched on the top of his head, allowing yourself to run your fingers through them, taming the fluffy mess they became from sleep in the process. Shawn leaned his head further into your hand absentmindedly, enjoying the comforting feeling of your touch even in his sleep. You placed a soft kiss onto his cheek, smiling to yourself when a content smile formed on his face and he pulled your body impossibly closer to his. Breathing in his scent as you were pressed up to his chest, you left one last lingering kiss to his bare chest before attempting to wiggle your way out of his grasp without waking him. Even with his tight grip on you, you somehow managed to escape his hold, but just as you went to push yourself off of the bed, you heard a deep voice groaning behind you. “Baby?” Shawn spoke, his groggy morning voice making your head turn around to see his face as his arm searched for you, “Where’d you go?”

Your fingers found his on the mattress and he sighed contently, eyes still shut, mind half asleep, “I’m right here bubs, I didn’t go anywhere.”

“Come lay back down then,�� he whined, trying to pull you down by your connected hands, “The bed’s cold without you.”

“I just sat up,” you laughed, but allowed him to sleepily pull you down anyways. He brought you to his chest once again, nuzzling his face into your shoulder and playfully biting on the soft skin he found from where the oversized shirt you had stolen from him had fallen off slightly from your actions. When you giggled in response he pulled back, slowly opening his eyes so that you were met with his bright brown eyes. There was still sleep evident in them, and the sleepy smile he gave you was only more proof, but he still lightly traced your face with his finger, only stopping once he pushed back a strand of hair behind your ear and rested his hand in front of you.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you smiled, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw, “Happy birthday, rockstar.”

“Mhm,” Shawn looked down at you, moving his body so that his face was level with you. He leaned down so his lips were ghosting yours, eyes boring into you, “Thank you, baby. You gonna give me a birthday kiss?”

“Maybe,” you teased, tongue coming out to wet your lips, the tip of it touching his lips in the process.

“Excuse me?” The raspiness in his voice and the cocky smirk on his lips ignited something in your lower stomach but you ignored it for the time being, focusing instead on the way his eyes were staring into yours, “You’re going to deny the birthday boy a kiss?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well let me decide for you,” and with that he leaned forward that final inch, connect your lips in a gentle kiss that still held so much passion. He held your hand in his much larger one, placing it above his chest over his heart while his lips moved with yours, your hands feeling how fast his heart was beating for you while yours mimicked the same beat. “Can’t believe you were gonna leave me this morning.”

You let out a playful scoff at his words and rolled your eyes, earning a pinch to your side that you laughed through. “If you must know I was planning on making you a birthday breakfast in bed before someone rudely interrupted my plans.”

“Well excuse me for wanting some cuddles with my girl.”

“And excuse me for wanting to do something nice for my boyfriend on his birthday.”

“You already did something nice for me, you let me pull you back in bed,” he smiled, giving you a small peck on your lips again.

“Am I allowed to make you breakfast now?”

Shawn pretended to be lost in thought for a moment before shaking his head and in one swift motion, he had you laying on your back with his arms holding himself above you. He connected your lips softly, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking gently, causing you to arch into him to be ever so closer to his body. He released from you with a pop, trailing his kisses down your body until he reached your stomach, looking up at you through his lashes with those big brown eyes of his, “Think I want to have a little snack before breakfast if that’s ok with you.” ______________

“Is it bad that I just want to spend my birthday here with you all day?”

You look up from your breakfast of waffles (gluten free of course), sausage, eggs and fruit at your beloved boyfriend that is sitting next to you, his left hand rubbing light circles over your thigh he had placed on his own. “Usually I would love to hear you say you want to stay in, but unfortunately you’re a pretty popular person and there’s a lot of people that want to wish you happy birthday.”

His face turned into a childish pout and he leaned over the table to rest his head on your shoulder, “But I just want to spend my birthday with you! Preferably naked if possible.”

You swatted his shoulder playfully, earning a deep chuckle from him in response, “God you’re such a boy.”

“But I’m your boy.”

“Damn right you are.” ______________

“Baby, have you seen my floral shirt?” Shawn called from the bedroom as you stood in the bathroom doing the finishing touches on your hair.

“Yeah it’s hanging in the laundry room, I made sure it was clean before today.”

“Thank you!” You could hear the pitter patter of his footsteps leading out of the bedroom and you curled your last strand of hair, placing the curler down to fix them up with your hands. You were always very critical of your appearance when you went out with Shawn, especially to big social events like this, because you knew you would be all over fan accounts pages the second a clip of the two of you was released. The thought didn’t stress you out as much as it used to, it felt almost like second nature at this point, but you were still conscious of how you looked and what you were doing when there were extra eyes and cameras on you. “You ready babe?”

“Yeah, just give me one second!” You sprayed your hair with hairspray quickly before doing a final once over, seemingly satisfied with the outcome. Leaving the bathroom, you were immediately greeted with Shawn sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone in his hand, but his eyes lifted up at the sound of the door and his mouth dropped open.

“Wow,” he breathed out, standing up so that he could run his hands over the sides of your dress. It wasn’t anything flashy, just a black bodycon dress that hugged your curves just right and you knew would drive him crazy. You had chosen black as to not stand out as much in pictures and videos, but you made up for it by wearing a glittery pair of heels and taking extra time to do your hair and makeup. You felt good. Confident. And the way Shawn was looking you up and down like he wanted to take you right then and there only boosted your ego that much more. “God you’re gorgeous. How’d I get so lucky?”

“I should be asking you that question, I mean look at you, you’re looking dashing as ever.” Your hands smoothed down the fabric of his silk-like shirt, your fingers unbuttoning an extra button to expose his chest a little more.

“You want more of my chest showing?” he teased, hands coming to hold your wrists as you raked your fingers through his chest hair.

“Yeah, it’s hot when you unbutton it a little more than usual.”

“Then I’ll keep it like that. Gotta step up my game when you look like that.” You rolled your eyes at his compliments and he surged forward to capture your lips in his, a kiss you both smiled through.

“Wait! I want to give you your present before we go.” Shawn released you as you turned to your dresser where you had hidden the small box and card, watching with those curious eyes of his. “Sit.”

He followed your command before you handed him his present and this time your eyes were the curious ones, waiting for any new emotion to show on his face as he opened the card. His eyes scanned the page and he smiled at the paragraph you had written him, eyes brightening with love over what you had wrote. “Thank you, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You gave him a soft kiss on his lips then waited for him to open up the gift. He carefully teared the paper open, not wanting to accidentally ruin anything inside. A black box revealed itself to him and he looked at you curiously before opening up the lid. Inside was a solid gold ring with delicate floral engravings on the outside and the words Go Get ‘Em Rockstar <3 Y/n etched into the inside. Tears began to form in his eyes as he delicately lifted the ring out of its holder, eyeing the intricate detail of it. “You were saying how you wanted a ring that meant something to you that you could also wear all the time to even award shows so I thought maybe this would do the trick. It’s our tradition for me to say that to you before a show and stuff so I don’t know, I just thought….”

Shawn grabbed your face in his hands, passionately connecting your lips to his while still holding the ring between his fingers. The metal was cool on your cheeks, but it only made you feel as though he truly appreciated the thought. “I love it so much, just like I love you. Thank you so much, you always make my birthdays the happiest.”

“You haven’t even gone to your party yet…”

“I don’t care. You’re all I need for my birthday. I can never thank you enough.”

“You’re welcome bubs, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Happy Birthday Shawn.”

[basilgrimbitch]

Day Two: Swap

Normal high school AU where Baz is new to Simon’s English class but Penny is the one that gets assigned a seat next to Baz. Aka English nerds in love.

Words: 3457

Note: this is unedited and super rushed but its something!

No warnings apart from a lot of swearing. Enjoy!

_____ 

SIMON

“Alright so I posted the seating plan on the class page, did everyone get a chance to see it?”

While everyone scrambles to look at their laptops, I’ve already seen Ms. Possibelf’s seating plan and can I just say… What. The. Fuck. She’s sat me across the room from Penny (honestly fair since we never get any work done) next to some random girl named Trixie; she seems nice enough but so bloody boring. How am I supposed to make it through a whole year of English without Penny? I can hear the complaints layering up in the tiny classroom and I can see the teacher ignoring every single one of them. I don’t think I’ll bother asking for a change. Though, maybe she’ll listen to Penny?

I nudge Penny’s arm, I guess she’s already seen the seating plan too because she makes no effort to look at her laptop and moves towards her assigned seat.

“Surely the fuck not?” I don’t bother whispering.

“I think you mean surely the fuck yes. I’m not failing this semester because you want to tell me a gross story about your arms smelling like Cheetos mid class.” I’m smirking and she looks like she’ll bite my head off. That makes me smile more.

“That was once!”

“It still happened, and I’d rather hear about your smelly limbs at lunch time - or better yet, never.”

We’re cut off by Ms. Possibelf starting the class, or at least trying to.

“You should’ve all written a draft of your persuasive orals over the holidays, now you must refine them and prepare a final copy. These will be presented in two days.”

Okay as much as I’m a clown in English, I’m actually decent at it. I’ve already written and edited my script, so I really have nothing to do. I sit in my seat and glance at Penny, it looks like she’s done too. I’m fairly sure she’s playing fire boy and water girl, she’s playing both parts (because I’m not there) and she’s taking up the entire table, her desk mate looks so uncomfortable squashed into a corner. Who is he, by the way? The name on the roll was Tyrannus, what the fuck kind of name is that? So pretentious.

I open up Instagram on my laptop and text Penny.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Simon Snow [10:04]: who is heeeeeee

Penelope Bunce [10:04]: who?

Simon Snow [10:04]: the guy ur sat next to whats his name?????

Penelope Bunce [10:05]: got a bit of crush huh :0

Simon Snow [10:05]: oh fk off I haven’t even seen his face,,, whats his name??

Penelope Bunce [10:06]: he said to call him baz

Simon Snow [10:07]: hmm weird but cool name

Simon Snow [10:07]: what schools he frm?

Penelope Bunce [10:07]: idk do ur work Si

Penny stops typing, she looks me in the eyes then turns to speak to Baz, shutting her laptop. That’s such an odd name, right?

They talk, she’s laughing, he’s just sitting there so composed. He doesn’t look bored exactly, just that he’s better than seeming overly excited. Dickhead it is then.

Even though I think I’ve already decided I hate him, I don’t stop looking at them. He’s got long hair, its black and loose just above his shoulder, his skin is this gorgeous caramel that doesn’t need tanning and his eyes, they’re so grey a mix of green and blue I think and – fuck. We’re making eye-contact, not in like oh oops, more like oh shit why is this guy staring at me. He must think I’m a fucking creep. Shit.

It’s not like I care though, he probably thinks he’s better than everyone in this room anyway. But he’s just smiling at me? Fuck that’s a good smile. I think I’m smiling back, I can’t help it. He turns back to speak to Penny, they seem like they’re in deep discussion about something, I wonder what? And suddenly, I catch myself wishing I was her. Um, what?

The rest of the period flies by. Too quick, I think, not that I need more time to work, I just kind of wish… whatever.

Penny, as per bloody usual, is taking her precious time packing her stuff away. I walk up to her table, hyper aware of Baz’s presence there,

“Planning on leaving anytime soon?” I ask, trying to seem as nonchalant as can be, but my eyes keep glancing to him. I think Penny must’ve picked up on it because then she says, all smug,

“But then you wouldn’t get to meet Baz,” she gestures to Baz, who’s raising his eyebrow and smiling a little against his better judgement I think, then she gestures to me and then back again, “Baz, Simon. Simon, Baz. There we go.” He’s full on smiling now. Fuck, how can someone be so pretty?

“So nice to meet you, I’m Baz Pitch.” He puts his hand out for me to shake it – that’s so proper. I’m not even convinced he’s 17. He’s so calm and put together, these are not words you use to describe a 17 year old guy.

“H-hey, yeah, Simon.” Of course, I trip over my words, I’ve always struggled with that but I’m also really fucking nervous for some reason.

“Do you wanna have lunch with us, Baz?” Penny’s throwing her bag over her shoulder, looking at me like she knows what she’s doing to me and then back to Baz with genuine eyes. Penny doesn’t usually get on with people like that, that’s why we’ve been friends for so long, she really doesn’t have other options (not like I do either).

“That’d be nice.” He says, the corner of his mouth inching up, giving his cool exterior away. He’s not a pretentious git, is he? He’s just a boy on his first day of school; that’s fucking daunting.

We walk out the classroom – finally – and Baz starts telling us about himself and his old school. Mainly just answering Penny’s questions. Does he have siblings? Yeah, four half siblings. How come he moved schools? dad moves a lot for business. Oh, is he going to be moving again? Probably not until after high school, by then I could move out anyway.

I’m not usually this quiet. Usually I’m more social than Penny. I don’t know what’s come over me, I wish I could be her right now.

Lunch happens, Baz doesn’t really eat. Not like I was watching him. Well he was sat right in front of me and I just noticed that he wasn’t eating anything. Surely that’s normal.

I finally ask Baz what other classes he’s taking; other than English we don’t share any classes and then I let myself say, “that sucks.” But only because its normal, its not flirting. You can want a friend to be in your class. Penny still looks at me anyway.

But then he says, “I’ll just have to look forward to English,” and my heart melts.

______

I try not to think about Baz right now, in bed, but I am anyway, and I remember him telling me his full name; so naturally I’m suddenly typing it into the Instagram search bar. Aha! He’s not on private, thank the gods of social media.

I start scrolling through his feed, careful not to tap anything of course. There are a few photos of him alone, they’re gorgeous; he dresses so nice. Penny says I can’t dress myself. In one photo from a month ago he’s in this incredible suit, taking a mirror selfie in a bathroom that looks nicer than my whole house. His hair is slicked back (I think I prefer it loose – still so bloody fit though) and his cheekbones are so defined, he’s got that same face he had when we first met today – eyebrows raised, little bit a smirk, beautiful eyes.

I scroll down to the next photo, this one is different. It’s not a hot mirror selfie, its him carrying a little girl – his little sister? – on his shoulders looking up at her with a smile, a real big smile. He’s dressed a bit more casual too, still nicer than anything I own though it’s just jeans and a black button down. I keep coming back to the jeans. How can someone look so good in jeans?

I scroll through a few more photos, some with friends, some more of just him and a few of books he’s reading or places he’s visited. I feel like I know him a little bit better now – less in a stalkerish way more in a… well I can’t think of the write word. I can never think of the write word.

My phone vibrates all of a sudden and I literally drop my phone, so I don’t accidently like anything.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [23:13]: up thinking bout prince charming?

Simon Snow [23:14]: shut up

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: don’t blame u he’s v cute.

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: And smart.

Penelope Bunce [23:14]: you have my blessing

Simon Snow [23:15]: bugger off,, as if he’s even into guys

Simon Snow [23:15]: I was literally such an idiot today he probs doesn’t even wanna be my friend

Penelope Bunce [23:16]: AHA SO U ADMIT IT

Simon Snow [23:16]: did I even have to

Penelope Bunce [23:16]: ofc not. For what its worth I think u have a shot.

Simon Snow [23:17]: sureeeee

Simon Snow [23:17]: fuckkkkk im gonna be so dead tomorrow,, gn love u

I turn my phone off, pull my glasses off chucking them somewhere I probably won’t find them tomorrow and roll over to fall asleep.

______

We’ve got English first period today. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited for English, but then I remember I don’t even get to sit next to him.

I walk into class and he’s already in there, we make eye-contact – way less awkward than yesterday – and he gives me a nod. Its friendly, it’s nice, it’s already a bit familiar. I give him a little wave with my right hand below the books I’m carrying but then I’m nearly dropping then, and my laptop starts sliding through my arms. It’s a shit show and it’s too early in the morning to embarrass myself, but I don’t get a say do I? As a say good bye to my laptop that is threatening to smash in the ground any second now – and any possibility for anything with Baz – I hear a chair scraping at the floor then not being pushed in. Suddenly, Baz’s hand is on my shoulder; the other grabbing my laptop that’s basically just resting on my belt buckle at this point. I beg myself not to blush, not now.

Baz is laughing. We’ve – he’s – saved my laptop and now he’s carrying it and my books; he insisted I was not to be trusted.

“Alright, special delivery all the way to your seat. You sure you’re okay Snow?” He’s using my last name because he thinks it’s ‘such a waste to not make use of such an iconic surname’. I like the way it sounds on his lips. I think I just like his lips and anything after is automatically perfect. Perfect.

He taps my shoulder, “you okay there?”

“Huh? Yeah yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep very much last night.” That’s not a lie.

Baz nods and says he’s gonna go get started on the work, I watch him walk away. The school trousers, they’re no jeans but he looks good in everything.

I try to do some work, making cue cards for my presentation, but I keep letting myself look over to Baz. Penny just caught me and stuck her tongue out.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [08:31]: ur staring

Simon Snow [08:32]: am not,, go away

I go back to working on my cue cards after making a show of shutting my laptop in front of Penny. I get through two more cards before I see a pair of shoes approaching my table. I look up and sure enough its prince charming – I mean Baz. He clears his throat and says,

“I hear you’re good at English”

“There’s no way Penny said that,” I laugh.

“True, she said ‘he thinks he’s better than everyone else.’ But I take it for good reason.” He smiles while doing air quotes, I smile back at him because I can’t help myself.

“Well, I definitely don’t suck.”

“Good. Do you mind reading over my script, please? I feel like it needs a little bit of editing.” He hands over his laptop, “don’t drop this one okay?” he chuckles.

I honestly don’t know how to act around him. I’m the epitome of those ‘act normal’ memes. He hands me his laptop and I start reading. His presentation is on single use plastics and it is so well written, he definitely doesn’t need my help. My neck is getting warm and I hope I’m not blushing at a script on environmentalism just because it was written by a hot guy. That’s pathetic.

But he’s not just a hot guy, is he? He’s smart – so smart – and he’s so kind even if you wouldn’t think so; when he helped me with my books today, I couldn’t help but think back to that photo of him with his sister, so much warmth and kindness expertly hidden under a cool and calm facade. I get to the end of his conclusion and look up in awe but he’s standing just behind me leaning forward waiting for my response. That explains the warmth I was feeling.

Baz doesn’t seem like the kind that would ever doubt himself but if you could see him now, you’d think he cared about what everyone thought about everything; and maybe he does, maybe he just hides it really well.

“Baz.” I make eye-contact with him, finally on purpose, “this… its incredible. I don’t even know why you’d ask for feedback. Your arguments are excellent, and your use of inductive reasoning is really fitting.”

His face lights up, a kind of innocent smile creeps up on his face and for the first time I think I want to kiss him. But even more so, I want to be responsible for more of those smiles. “Really?”

“It’s perfect.”

I look away because I don’t want him to see me blush. Penny is looking straight at us, she gives me one of her reassuring smiles.

______

It’s been two weeks of school; all my classes suck but it’s our last year and soon enough we’ll miss it. At least that’s what Penny keeps saying, Baz agrees with her.

Baz has been spending more time with us; we hang out at lunch time, he’s joined us for frozen cokes a few times in the past few hot days. It’s nice. I can actually talk to him now too.

He’s so smart, smarter than I had thought. He’s not just academically smart, he knows more than just surface level knowledge. Yesterday, on our walk to English he was talking about some article he read on the relationship between sleep deprivation and blood alcohol concentration just for fun. Though its nerdy and just a bit lame, the way his eyes light up when he talks about things he cares about, I’d listen to the summary of a thousand dumb articles to see that again.

Right now, Baz isn’t here though, and all my brain can do is think about him.

“Pennyyyy!” she’s lying on my bed while I do my art homework on the floor, she always comes home with me on Tuesdays, I don’t know when that started.

“Si, I already said no like three times.”

“Why not? Do you not love me?” I asked her to swap seats with me in English. I just wanna sit next to Baz, I can say I need extra help or something.

“I love you of course but I don’t want Baz to think I’m avoiding him, and I certainly don’t want Ms. P to fail me for disobeying her one rule.”

“Just please.” I give her my best puppy eyes and pouty face, “I fink I’m in wuv,” I say mockingly. She

throws an old stuffed toy in my face. I guess that’s a no.

______  

The next day I see Baz at the school gates, he’s holding a cup of coffee and his hair is up in a bun today. Flawless.

“Fancy seeing you here,” how can he look so perfect at eight in the morning. I don’t even feel awake yet.

Baz bumps my shoulder with his and we start walking to our lockers. We talk about the English reading we were set, we’re reading Lord of the Flies and Baz is going on about how he and Penny think the book would be drastically different if it had female characters.

“Golding said he didn’t add girls to avoid sex being a subject.” I say, and Baz just looks at me with his eyebrow raised. I call this the signature Baz look now.

“Oh, come on, as if every single kid on that island was straight.” I choke on nothing for a second. Baz and I have never talked about relationships or sex or sexuality. It’s not really a matter of discussion I guess but hearing him acknowledge the idea of guys being together, I don’t know, it gives me hope. That makes no sense obviously, he’s taking about characters from an English novel not himself and really its more an act of Baz’s resistance than it is a nod to gay rights or whatever. But, still, it gives me hope.

“True,” is all I manage to get out.

We get to English extra early after home room, and I start making my way to my seat. Ever since Baz started hanging out with us outside of class, English is back to being plain and boring, nothing special. So, with my shoulders slumped I mutter a goodbye to Baz as I walk to opposite way to my seat but then I feel something on my hand. Oh my god, its his hand. Its Baz’s hand. On my hand. Pulling me towards him. Its not especially romantic or anything. But its something!

“Hey! Swap seats with Penny, come sit next to me today,” surely this is a dream, I must’ve hit my head. “I need your uhhh help with the essay.” Baz doesn’t help, he just discussed key themes of the novel for breakfast. I feel it again, lingering in my chest, hope. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…” he says a bit quieter now, trying to seem as cool as possible. How Baz of him. Fuck I still haven’t said anything.

“What no no, I want to. I’m just not sure what Ms. Possibelf will say; or worse, Penny.” He pulls at my hand. He still hasn’t let go of my hand. He still hasn’t let go of my hand.

“What? Scared Snow?”

“We’re not in Harry Potter, Baz.”

“True. I’m wayyy better looking than Draco Malfoy and you wouldn’t be a very good chosen one. The worst chosen one who’s ever been chosen.”

I hear myself saying, “what so I’m not more better looking than Harry Potter?” Is this flirting? He squeezes my hand. He still hasn’t let go of my hand.

“You needed me to point that out? I thought it was a given. You’re well fit, Simon.” Simon. Hope.

I hum in response and with one final tug at my hand, he lets it go. I follow him (I’d follow him anywhere).

“Sit, I won’t bite,” He grins at me.

“Yeah but Penny will,” she better not ruin this for me. For us. I sit next to Baz and we start working on our essays. He doesn’t ask for help once.

Penny walks into class, glances at her seat, sees us and walks to my – her – seat next to Trixie.

Penelope Bunce – Simon Snow

Penelope Bunce [08:14]: u win. Enjoy!

I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not.

Baz notices I’ve changed my window to Instagram DMs and nudges me, “how come you don’t follow me?”

“Huh, I don’t know? What’s your user name?” As if I don’t know.

Baz grabs my laptop, “I’ll just type it in.” I let him because I’m lazy and I like watching him type but then he clicks on the search bar and has the biggest grin on his face. Fuck. He can see my search history, “looks like you already know it.” How could I forget about that?

I must look mortified because he places his hand on mine. Second time today. “It’s all good. I already have yours too.”

Hope.