#the happy sighs and crooked smiles and blushy fucks of his head

[c0rvidfagg0try]

I just want to thank Oliver Stark for playing Buck as the most smitten man ever in existence

[imaginethatneathuh]

The World: Technical Boy - American Gods

Technical Boy x partner!reader, romantic

Technical Boy plays video games while you are on your tablet.

Part of @dragon430’s Tarot Troop, edited by her, too.

Requested by Anon - ... Technical Boy ... and The World...

TW/CW: Marriage proposal, slightly sexual.

Word count: 1.4+ K

•

You and Technical Boy sat on your sofa, both in your own worlds. He played COD: WWII on the flatscreen and you read stuff on your tablet. Your legs lay over his crossed legs.

Looking up, you paused and smiled at Technical Boy. His brow was creased and he moved around as he killed his opponents. You could almost hear his mutterings.

As his character got killed, Technical Boy slumped back and scowled at the telly. “Fuck this shit,” he said. “Stupid fucking game.” With a free hand, he pulled one of your legs closer and rubbed it.

You softly chuckled and relaxed.

Looking over at you, his shoulders relaxed and he smiled at you. You usually had that effect on him. He placed the controller on the coffee table and moved to get closer to you. The god loomed over you before planting a soft kiss on your lips. You kissed back, touching his chest. You could feel the hand not holding him up wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

You pulled away from your lover’s kiss with an adoring smile.“Do you remember back when you could barely even talk to me without stuttering and blushing?” You asked.

Technical Boy shook his head. “No. Nope. Don’t remember that. Not at all.”

A pout formed on your face. “You don’t?” You trailed a finger down his cheek. “Well, maybe, I should remind you. I do have video evidence.”

As you began to open something on your tablet, Technical Boy snatched it from you and turnt it off.

“Tech!” You tried to get it back but he held it just out of reach.

He stood on his knees with his arm held as far away from you as possible. You placed a hand on your lover’s side as you tried to reach your tablet, resulting in a rather intimate position. His face was so close to yours you could feel his breath. Technical Boy grinned with mischief in his eyes.

“What? Something you want, my love?” He asked.

You tried to grab it again and failed, pouting.

He laughed, his forearm pressed against your upper chest. Oh, how he loved it when you pouted.

Instead of trying to grab it again (knowing you’d fail), you cupped his cheeks and kissed your lover without warning. He seemed to enjoy it, responding by wrapping his arms (most importantly, the one with your tablet) around your waist slowly and kissing back. For a moment, caught in the electric bliss of kissing the tech god, you forgot about your prize. The way his soft lips moved against yours was, frankly, intoxicating in the best way possible.

Technical Boy slipped the tablet on the floor as he eased you back onto the sofa. With his hands now free, he pulled your legs over his hips. “Y/N,” he mumbled, kissing down your neck. “I love you.” One of his hands found its way to the bare skin of your back, rubbing it. The other held onto your thigh, squeezing it up and down lightly.

You smiled and tangled a hand in his hair, enjoying his affection. “You’ve definitely come a long way from that blushy Boy I first met.”

The god stopped. He looked up, his eyes searching your face, and kissed you again. “Marry me?” He asked as he pulled away. One of his hands slipped into yours.

You snorted, covering your mouth with your free hand. When you looked up, you noticed his serious and apprehensive face. “Oh,” you said. “You’re serious.”

He nodded.

“Um, yeah,” you said but you could tell from his knitted brow he didn’t fully believe you. “Sorry. Just a little surprised. Woulda thought you’d propose via text or something.” You straightened and sat up.

“Why would I do that? I can’t kiss you as easily after,” he said. “Like this.” He kissed your cheek before kissing the other. Then, he littered your face with kisses, kissing everything he could.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his unusually goofy self. Finally, as you slowed your laughter, you pulled him into a smiling kiss. As you broke apart, the sun shining through the curtains behind you, you asked, “You have a ring? To make it official and all.”

Technical Boy looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes. “Shit,” he mumbled. “I knew there was something I forgot to do yesterday.”

You laughed again.

He looked back down at you with a smile. Interlacing your fingers, the god kissed the top of your hand. “Don’t worry, my love. I got an idea.” He got up from the sofa and disappeared from the room.

You fell back onto the sofa, smiling like an idiot.

The thought of marrying THE Technical Boy, the god of technology and the internet, was as enticing as it was terrifying. You loved him. Who wouldn’t? He was kind and caring in his own peculiar way. He had made it a habit to spend as much time with you as possible. And, to top it all off, he protected you from World and he was terrified of the man, no matter what he said. But there was also the fact that World and Media were a part of his life and they scared you. They probably wouldn’t be happy about a union between you, an old god, and him, a new one.

Picking up your tablet, you turnt it on. The lock screen was a picture of the two of you, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you both smiled at the camera. You smiled at it before entering your password. Going to photos, you scrolled through them. Picture after picture of the two of you or one or the other showed up. You stopped on a picture of him sitting on your guys’ sofa, playing video games. Another of him pulling cookies out of the oven. It was hard to believe this was the idiot you were marrying.

You scrolled before stopping on a video that you didn’t know you had. You pressed play.

”Hey, lovey,” Technical Boy said, smiling at the camera. “I know you’ll probably be mad that I stole your tablet, but I don’t care. I just wanted to say I love you more than I love anything, even myself and my worship, and, one day, I’m going to marry you and we will have a life together. Hell, I’d even adopt a kid if you wanted to. So be ready for that.” He pressed a kiss to his fingers before blowing it to the camera and stopping the video.

You smiled and laughed. “Idiot,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” Technical Boy asked, coming back into the room.

“Nothing.” You shook your head and put the tablet down.

He slipped beside you on the sofa, one of his hands firmly closed. “Reminder, this is not the one I wanted you to wear all the time, but I forgot to get the proper one.”

The god opened his hand to reveal a band. Multicoloured wires were shaped into a circle. You weren’t sure it was possible for wires to have no opening or end but they seemed not to. Copper wrapped around the outsides, creating small patterns of flowers, grass, and trees waving in the wind, and bunnies and birds running around.

You looked at Technical Boy, mouth agape. “H- How?” Turning back to it, you gently touched the ring and the bunnies ran to nuzzle against your fingertips. The birds perched around them. It felt warm, like it was alive. The feeling was so similar to how Technical Boy felt when you touched him. It was like him but in a ring. At least now you’d always have a part of him with you.

He watched you and kissed your temple. “Magic, my love.” It was the best way he could sum it up for you to understand. Sliding an arm around you, he slipped the ring onto your finger. You reached up and took his now dangling hand. He quickly pulled you close and kissed your forehead before taking back his arm.

You admired it with a smile, loving it more than any garden-variety ring you could get at a jewellery store.

Technical Boy slipped his hand into yours, kissing it and holding it. He rested his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into it.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close. “Don’t you want to get back to your game?” You asked, looking down at him.

“That can wait,” he mumbled as he snuggled close, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you, sighing in content.

The telly shut off.

[jaxl-road]

Scar Tissue, chapter 8

One step forward...

Pairings: Slash/Duff, side Axl/Izzy, side Steven/Vince

Warnings: ((not in this chapter)) Implied/discussed past abuse (non-explicit)

~~~~~~~~

The next three weeks were… interesting.

Don’t get him wrong, Slash was over the moon. He no longer had to restrain himself around Duff, was finally allowed to run his hands through his hair and hold him and kiss him and lace their fingers together anytime he was in arms reach. It had been years since his last serious relationship, but he knows it didn’t feel like this.

On top of that, Guns N’ Roses was making waves again. With each show they played the crowds seemed to get bigger and wilder, and they were starting to snag better dates and times at the bigger venues. They were starting to actually make a decent amount of money from their shows. At night, as he fell asleep with Duff in his arms, he felt like everything was falling into place.

But…

At the same time, Slash couldn’t help but feel a little lost. Because something didn’t feel right.

Duff seemed happy, smiling into their kisses and playing with Slash’s curls and bursting with energy on stage. But he was also drinking even more than usual- bottle always in reach, almost never anywhere near sober- and he still jolted awake from nightmares, and there always seemed to be an apology on his lips.

And then there was the other thing…

“You guys haven’t fucked yet??” Steven gaped, slamming his beer down loudly on the table.

Slash groaned, putting his head in his hands. He and Steven had the house to themselves that night, and had decided that they were overdue for a hangout. As they drank and smoked and laughed, sitting next to each other on their beat up couch, the conversation inevitably veered towards their love lives, the two friends rambling about their boys happily. That is, until Steven joked about his and Vince’s bedroom activities, and then asked about Duff and Slash with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Slash could only stutter out a “well, actually-”

Steven shook his head in disbelief, “How? It’s been weeks, and you’ve been wanting to climb that boy like a tree since day one.”

“I know, I know,” Slash sighed, “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Try.”

Looking over at the drummer, Slash saw that his friend actually had a look of concern on his face, frowning thoughtfully. It was easy to forget sometimes that Steven was more than just the sunshine goofball he appeared. He and Slash had been best friends since their childhood, and if there was anyone Slash could talk to about this, it was him.

So, taking another swig of his beer, Slash started talking, “It’s like… most of the time, we’re fine, right? Like, other than getting kinda blushy, he doesn’t mind PDA or anything that much. But when we’re alone, he just… doesn’t seem that into it, I guess?” He sighed, “And that’s not even getting into the fact that he’s almost always wasted by the time I get him alone, and that just makes me feel… gross, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Steven nodded sympathetically.

“Uuuuuuugh,” Slash dropped his head onto the coffee table in front of them, “Maybe he doesn’t really like me. Or thinks I’m unattractive. Oh my God, Steven, Duff thinks I’m ugly-”

“Oh, shut up you idiot,” Steven rolled his eyes, even as he reached out to pat Slash on the back, “Maybe he’s a virgin or something,” he shrugged.

Slash sat up, frowning in consideration, “Huh. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Yeah, just because we had a promiscuous youth doesn’t mean he did.”

“But he’s had a boyfriend before,” Slash pointed out.

“Yeah, but wasn’t he an asshole?” Steven argued, “Maybe they never got to that point. Duff definitely likes you a lot, but he’s also a nervous fucking dude, so, y’know,” he shrugged.

“That’s… actually a good point,” blinking in surprise, Slash leaned back as he thought more about it.

Meanwhile, Steven grinned, “See? You just needed some wisdom from your much smarter friend.”

“Oh fuck off,” Slash laughed. But he did feel better. After all, he didn’t mind taking things slow (what’s a few more weeks of long showers? He’d live), he had just been feeling insecure. With this new theory in mind, he felt like he could relax a little.

For that reason, he was in especially high spirits when he pulled Duff against his chest the next morning, “Hey, you have today off, right?” The bassist hummed and nodded, so Slash grinned, “Then we’re definitely due for a date. We need some time away from all the other couples,” he joked. Not that he didn’t love his friends, but Axl and Nikki especially always seemed to get a kick out of fucking with them. (Or rather, fucking with him.)

Duff grinned, “Sounds good to me,” he kissed Slash lazily, “What did you have in mind?”

Up until now, their dates were pretty standard- usually bar hopping, grabbing cheap food, seeing a movie or a show or something like that. “Not that I don’t love our usual outings,” Slash drawled, “but let’s do something different.”

“Like what?”

“Uuuuh,” Slash blinked at the ceiling, “I have no idea,” he smiled as Duff laughed. He tried to think of something, Duff burying his face in the crook of Slash’s neck, seemingly unconcerned with Slash’s dilemma. He poked at the blonde’s shoulder, “You have any ideas?”

The only response was silence, which Slash had learned meant that Duff definitely had an idea, he just didn’t want to say it. Sitting up swiftly, Duff rolled to the side with a soft “oof”, allowing Slash to look down at him with a grin.

“What do you want to do?”

Blushing, Duff scoffed, “I don’t know, whatever you want to-”

“No, no, no,” Slash interrupted, “You have an idea, I know it. Come on, pleeeease?” he whined.

Duff bit his lip lightly, hesitating for a minute before finally admitting, “It’s supposed to be nice today, and… I’ve always wanted to go up to the Hollywood sign,” he was quick to add on, “But seriously, it’s just a thought, we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

While that was certainly not the suggestion Slash had expected, it only made him grin wider, “No way, let’s do it!” He hopped out of bed enthusiastically, “Y’know, I’ve lived in Hollywood most of my life and I’ve never been up there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess when you live in a place long enough you kind of forget to do the touristy stuff.”

Sitting up, Duff stared down at his lap, “Oh, yeah. I mean, it’s probably stupid, I just-”

“No, no!” Slash cut in, “I meant that that’s why it’s a cool idea,” he clarified.

He hated that after all this time, Duff still looked surprised when Slash showed any sort of approval towards him. He hated it, and he didn’t understand it, and he didn’t know how to ask about it. As such, he was a little relieved when Duff quickly shook off the surprise and gave him a sly grin.

“Not to mention I doubt there will be anyone around to bust us if we have a couple open containers.”

“I like the way you think,” Slash laughed.

Before long, they were both pulling on some boots and shoving a variety of bottles and a few joints into a beat up backpack. It wasn’t exactly early by the time they left, nearing noon, but still early enough that the rest of their housemates were still confined to their own rooms, allowing them for a clean getaway.

Duff was right that it was a nice day outside. The sun was shining, but there was a cool autumn breeze, and the odd hour on a weekday meant the bus was practically empty when they hopped on. That didn’t stop them from sitting in the very back, stretching their legs out across multiple seats and talking shit about random people they would see on the sidewalk and occasionally sneaking sips from a bottle of whiskey.

Needless to say, the bus driver was happy to see them exit when they reached their stop. When they reached the start of the trail through Griffith Park, Duff turned to Slash with a grin.

“We should think of a drinking game.”

Slash snorted, “What, like, take a shot every time we see a lizard or some shit?”

“You would go straight for lizards,” Duff laughed, elbowing him playfully.

“Alright then,” Slash continued, “One shot every time we see a lizard, but THREE shots if I can catch one,” he grinned deviously.

Duff hummed in consideration, “...Fine. BUT, you can’t take it home with you,” he bargained, giggling when Slash whined.

“Where’s the fun in that? Tell me you wouldn’t kill to put a lizard in Axl and Izzy’s bed.”

“I think they would kill you.”

“Hm, it’d be worth it though.”

Starting their trek, they were happy to find that the off-season left the trail open and empty, and wasted no time in passing a joint back and forth as they expanded the rules of their drinking game. Pointing at random things mostly as an excuse to take a swig from the bottles held in their hands.

“Shot every time you see a broken bottle!”

“Shot every time a plane goes by!”

“Everytime you hear a crow!”

“Everytime you see a rock with graffiti!”

“Everytime-”

“LIZARD!”

Duff jumped at Slash’s exclamation, the guitarist leaping forward drunkenly and diving to the ground in a clumsy attempt to catch the small reptile that had crossed their path. The whiskey left him uncoordinated though, and he landed roughly on the ground, the lizard scurrying away into the brush.

Laughing heartily, Duff nearly dropped his vodka as he staggered forward, tugging at Slash’s arm to help him back to his feet, “I thought you were good with reptiles?” he teased.

“Yeah, well, it’s an inverse correlation to my sobriety,” he replied sheepishly, dusting off his clothes and picking up his whiskey bottle from the ground where it had fallen. Luckily only a little had spilled, the bottle being half empty anyway, so he wiped the dirt from the top and declared it good enough.

As they continued their journey, Slash reached out to lace their fingers together, swaying their arms between them as they continued up and up the hillside, Duff ducking his head with a shy smile. They took their time, the alcohol and weed keeping their pace leisurely as they laughed and giggled at practically everything, stumbling when they tried to walk as Slash pulled Duff closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nearly tangling their legs together mid step.

Before they knew it, they were standing at the end of the trail, looking down at the Hollywood sign and the expanse of the city below them.

“Wow…”

The view was gorgeous, but Slash only looked for a moment, too distracted by Duff’s wide eyes, awe and alcohol blending as he smiled excitedly down at the landscape. Tugging the bassist’s hand, they carefully made their way through the brush down the hill. Once they were in the shade of the ‘H’, they slid to sit on the ground, and Slash wasted no time pulling Duff into a kiss, feeling like he hadn’t gotten nearly enough of them today. Duff smiled against his mouth, leaning against the sign behind them as Slash pressed against him.

They lazily exchanged whiskey and vodka kisses, hidden in their own little world behind their city’s landmark. Eventually they broke away when Slash’s stomach growled loudly, Duff laughing as Slash ducked his head in embarrassment. Pulling a handful of granola bars from their backpack, they ate quietly, enjoying the companionable silence while Slash rested his head against Duff’s shoulder.

Eventually, they felt rested enough to start making their way back down, abandoning their games in favor of simply drinking and smoking leisurely while Slash rambled about all the parties he’d been to with his parents across the freeway on Mulholland Drive. By the time they were getting onto the bus again, the sun was beginning to set, and while they were both tired and half drunk-half high, they agreed that junk food was in order.

Hopping off at a stop near a diner they both liked, Slash grabbed Duff’s hand again, grinning happily as they chatted. The blonde was smiling easily, his body relaxed, and while he wasn’t sober, he wasn’t as wasted as he had been the past few weeks. Maybe Slash had been overthinking it, worrying about nothing. Duff seemed fine now. Maybe he had just been overreacting like Steven said.

But then, just feet away from the diner, someone approached the two musicians. And Duff sucked in a breath, freezing in place as a voice called out behind them.

“Michael?”

[impashableimagines]

The Muriel Headcanons Nobody Asked For

Ok, so we’ve all seen the big-dick Muriel headcanon, but what about small-dick Muriel? (My headcanons started to turn into a mini drabble at one point but whatever y’all, the words flowed and I typed, and I hope y’all enjoy.)

Muriel has a pretty average sized dick, but compared to his giant stature of 6′10″, his cock may seem small compared to the rest of his body.

Lots of people crack jokes or make insinuatory comments about how his dick must match the rest of him, hulking and huge. He’s gotten these jokes a lot in his life, and he’s a bit insecure about it, especially knowing that they’re wrong, and that’s all they seem to value him by.

One day, Muriel and MC are out in the marketplace, buying food for dinner, and a few of their favorite grocer’s customers start making lewd comments at/about Muriel within his and MC’s hearing range. 

Muriel is totally not comfy with these comments, and MC can tell instantly from looking at him that he’s even more upset than normal with having to be around people, and MC figures that it’s from the obnoxiously rude comments the other people are making about their lover’s sexual organs.

MC is furious (rightly so), and calls the other people out on their shit and tells them to leave Muriel alone about his dick, because no matter what size it is, it’s none of their business anyway, and regardless of what size it is, MC adores Muriel, and will not tolerate anyone making him uncomfortable, and MC will fucking fight anyone who hurts Muriel.

Later, when Muriel and MC get home, Muriel is unusually quiet, and MC checks in on him: “Hey, that was a really gross situation for them to put you in, are you okay?” 

Muriel shrugs and sighs, his shoulders shaking subtly. “I’m fine, it’s just...”

MC wraps their arms around him, hugging him tightly to ease his anxiety. “They got to you, I know. Listen to me, they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re perfect as you are, and I love you, no matter what.”

This of course leads to MC leading Muriel to the bed, sitting him down and comforting him with hugs and cuddles, then laying him down and kissing him all over, from his face, to his chest, to his stomach, to his thighs, and back up again to his pelvis, smiling adoringly at him all the while.

Muriel is a little shocked when MC wraps their lips around the head of his cock, their eyes glimmering as they look up at him. “MC, what are you-?”

MC pulls away and smiles, gently shushing him and placing a kiss on his inner thigh. “I’m going to show you just how little size matters, darling. My love for you is about so much more than that, you know.”

Muriel is super blushy as MC goes down on him again, slowly and smoothly taking him as deep into their throat as they can, just going to town enjoying making Muriel feel good. It just feels so good, and Muriel isn’t super good at expressing how MC is making him feel verbally, so he settles for soft, sweet groans and growls as he places his hands loosely on their shoulders to guide them.

Muriel loves a good deepthroating, so he’s a fairly happy man right now.

MC is just enjoying themself, having fun watching Muriel’s face contort in pleasure as he moans for them. 

Muriel comes quick and hard for MC, squeezing their shoulders firmly as the pleasure overwhelms him, a strangled “- love you-” cascading from his lips.

MC smiles and climbs up onto the bed next to Muriel and curls up beside him, their head resting on his chest. “I love you too, darling. Do you need anything?”

Muriel wraps his arms around MC, pulling them close and burying his head in the crook of their neck, breathing deeply and taking in the soft, warm scent of them, pressing a gentle kiss to their neck. “For now, I just need you. Nothing but you.”

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Watford Cove

Chapter 11: fingers walk your thigh

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/angst

Word count: 1963

Chapter: 11/13 [All chapters]

Summary: It's the night before exam marks are posted. Possibly their last night, so Simon invites Baz over.

Read on AO3

AN: Two chapters in two days?! What?!?!?! Well, school for me starts tomorrow, and this chapter is quite short, so I'm updating super early. And oooooooh spicy summary! But this is still a T rated fic, so don't get too excited lol. Enjoy!

Tagging: @wayward-son-61​ @jeansjeansjeansjeans​

———————————————-

My hand hurts. I skipped a lot of exams last year and forgot about that part. My muscles are all cramped from being wrapped around a pencil for hours for days on end. I keep stretching it out in hopes the pain goes away. No such luck. My brain hurts too. It feels like I puked all knowledge onto those pages and now my thoughts are empty. I just feel so exhausted. I can't even force myself to get off my bed to change out of my jeans and jacket.

Exam marks are posted tomorrow. I’ll know if I get to stay tomorrow. Stay in Watford Cove, with my friends, with Simon. If I was the dramatic sort of person, which I’m not of course, I’d say tomorrow is judgement day.

I can only hope I’m worthy.

My phone buzzes next to me. With far more effort than usually needed, I reach over and hold it over my face.

Pretty Moron [7:25] heyyyyy <3 <3

Pretty Moron [7:25] how’s it going?

Baz [7:26] My hand fucking hurts.

Pretty Moron [7:27] lol well exams will do that

Pretty Moron [7:27] what r u doing rn?

Baz [7:28] Texting you, idiot.

Pretty Moron [7:29] fuck off dick

Pretty Moron [7:30] i meant if ur busy

Baz [7:31] No, not really. Just tired.

Pretty Moron [7:32] okay

Pretty Moron [7:33] my gran’s out playing cards all night

Pretty Moron [7:35] wanna come over?

Pretty Moron [7:36] only if ur not 2 tired tho

Pretty Moron [7:36] but u could come over

Pretty Moron [7:38] and stay the night

Pretty Moron [7:38] if u want

I nearly drop my phone many times reading that. Okay, this may be crazy, but I cannot be misinterpreting what he means. It's pretty obvious, right? But he's also Simon, so he's sometimes quite oblivious. If this were some TV show, I’d know exactly what that meant. There'd be zero doubt in my mind. But this is real life. Do people really do this? Would Simon? He is very bold sometimes, that's for sure. Is he this bold? Fucking hell, am I?

Tomorrow is judgement day after all. So...tonight could be my last chance for a long while. Our last chance.

Baz [7:43] I’ll be over there in half an hour

———————————————-

This time, it takes only two pebbles to get Simon to open the window. I wonder if he was waiting for me this time. He gives me a tired, exasperated smile.

“I told you,” he semi-shouts down, “my Gran’s not home. You could’ve just rung the bell.”

I shrug. “This is more fun.”

Simon rolls his eyes as I run up to the trellis. It’s much harder climbing up it with the plastic shopping bag. I manage though, swinging my legs up onto the porch roof and crawling to Simon’s window. He gives me a hand getting in, then wraps his arms around my neck, smiling all the way to his ears as he gazes at me.

“You came,” he sighs.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” I reply, holding his torso close.

“Still, I’m glad you did. I-I wasn’t sure you would, really.”

I sigh, running my fingers over his back. “Well, I debated it a bit. But this may be our last night, Simon. And...I really don’t want to leave without doing this, with you that is.”

His face goes bright red instantly, eyes incredibly wide. Shit, I’ve fucked up. That’s not what he meant. I'm just a horny idiot. I’m going to leave and die from embarrassment.

“Sorry,” I murmur, pulling away. “I’ll just go.”

“No no!” Simon shakes his head rapidly, arms tightening on my neck. “No, don’t go, Baz. I-I want to as well. You just caught me off guard for a sec, sorry.”

I chuckle at that, I can’t help it. Simon looks at me funny. I just pull him closer. “You get all blushy and nervous when I flirt with you, but also snog me like it’s the end the world in a gym closet. You are just, a living contradiction, Simon Salisbury.” He still looks at me confused. “And I like that, a lot.”

Now he grins again, bright and brilliant. “Okay, good to know.”

We giggle like stupid school boys, pressing our foreheads together. He kisses me once, then twice, then a third time for good measure I suppose. But suddenly, he pulls back and lifts up my arm, the one holding the shopping bag, with a furrowed brow.

“What’s this?”

I chuckle. “Well, I assumed that you wouldn’t have supplies, so I picked some up.”

That makes his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Supplies?”

“Yes, Simon, supplies. I wasn't sure what we'd end up doing but I wanted to be prepared for anything. You would not believe the looks I got from the old lady cashier though, my god.”

Simon laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Oh man, I can believe that. Sorry you had to do that, love.”

I shrug with a smirk. “It was worth it.”

His face softens. “Thank you, darling.”

We fall into silence and just stare at each other. Fuck, where do we go from here? I’ve never thought about this. Well, I’ve thought about after this, what happens when we start doing "it", but not how we get there. From Simon’s lip chewing and nervous twiddling, he has no idea either.

“You sure you want to do this, Simon?” I whisper.

He nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah I do. I’m just...”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Hey.” I tilt his chin up so we’re eye to eye. I need him to be reassured, and I love looking in his eyes anyway. “It’s alright. I am too.”

He's surprisingly shocked at that. “Really?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve never done anything like this before. You’re my first boyfriend, first kiss, first anything, Simon.”

His jaw falls open. I can’t believe how shocked he is. “Seriously? I was your first kiss?”

I roll my eyes, trying to offset my nerves. “Yes, I just said that.”

“Wow.”

“What, do I seem like someone who’s super experienced?”

“Oh, uh, well, I um, I...” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “I guess, I uh, you’re really smart and confident and I just assumed you knew more about this shit than me. Since you know more about most things.”

I snort out a laugh. Simon turns more red, so I put down the shopping bag on his bed then grab his wrist and tug him closer. He lets himself fall against me.

“Well,” I sigh, “I guess we’ll just have figure it out together.”

He gives me a lopsided smile. It's relaxed and happy, and just fucking perfect. “Yeah, I guess so.” He chuckles slightly and shakes his head. “Oh man, having sex the night before you might leave forever. What is this, a teen romance novel?”

I chuckle. “It honestly feels like it sometimes.”

Simon and I both laugh, but it’s quickly followed by silence. We just stare at each other for awhile. Bright blue gazing into grey and vice versa. I sure as shit don’t know where to go, and neither does he obviously. Simon leans up to kiss me. But fucking Hell, I’m still not relaxed, and neither is he. I can feel the nervousness in both of us. His shaking hands, his tense face, the stiff movement of his mouth. Everything about him spells ‘uneasy.’ I’m about to pull away to ask him, but he does so first.

“Wait,” he says breathlessly. “Let’s do something.”

He pulls me over to his nightstand and picks up his mobile. A few taps later, a soft tune starts playing. It’s all violins and piano chords. I recognize the singer as that Sivan bloke Simon loves.

“What’s this?” I ask.

Simon walks back over to me and drapes his arms lazily over my shoulders. They're a comfortable weight on my tense muscles. “Dance with me.”

I give him a confused, curious look, but he doesn’t say anything to further justify it. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. We’re both about to jump out of our skins, Baz. So let’s not think for a bit and just dance.”

“Not thinking? That’s your solution?”

He shrugs. “Helps me. And it’s only for a bit. Just turn off that big brain for a sec and dance with me, Baz. Alright?”

I twist my mouth for a moment, but then I just sigh and hold his waist. “Alright, let’s dance.”

Simon smiles. He lets his head fall into the crook of my neck. I rest my cheek on his temple. We sway incredibly slowly back and forth, like waves calmly lapping at the shore. The only sounds that fill the room are our soft breathing and Troye’s melodious voice. I listen to the lyrics.

I want you I'll colour me blue Anything it takes to make you stay Only seeing myself When I'm looking up at you

“This song is depressing as shit, Simon,” I whisper right into his ear.

“Shut up, Basil,” he grumbles. I chuckle and hold him tighter.

The song keeps going, we keep swaying, and bit by bit, I can feel the tension seeping out of me. Like a weight slowly being lifted off my shoulders. This isn’t scary. This is just Simon. Who wears pink sweaters and flower crowns, who painted my nails, who knows me better than anyone by now, who makes me happy, who I’m most certainly falling in love with. Yes, I can do this. At least I can do this with him.

Troye ends and the playlist moves on to something else. Simon pulls back to face me. His eyes are half lidded, his lips slightly open, all while bathed in his golden lamplight. Christ on a cross, I want to kiss him so badly. Well, I want to kiss him all the time, but especially right now, when he looks like something out of a dream. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches over and turns off the phone. All that’s left is our breathing, slow and steady.

“Okay now?” he speaks softly.

I take a deep breath and nod once. “Yeah, okay.”

He nods too, then reaches over to turn off the lamp. Silver moonlight bleeds in through his window. He looks ethereal in it, a glowing silver halo around his gold tones. Stretching up a bit, Simon kisses me softly, but it’s not tentative anymore. It’s languid, relaxed, like we have all the time in the world. I kiss him back in the same way. I feel Simon’s hands move across my neck, callused fingers scratching against my skin, then over my shoulders and under my jacket. Slowly, like a question, he starts pushing it down. I straighten my arms in answer, and it falls to the ground.

Being a total control freak, I rarely let anyone “do” anything to me, really. I always initiate. I’m always in command. I accept no less.

But not with Simon.

I let Simon do so much to me. Let him kiss me, let him undress me, let him pull me apart and put me back together in the strangest, most beautiful ways possible. There are some awkward moments, of course. They're unavoidable with our lack of knowledge. But we simply laugh them off or quickly apologize. Those moments are brief though. And all of it is overshadowed by sheer wonder of it all. That this is really happening. That we’re doing this. And it's incredible. I allow Simon to see every last part of me, and he lets me see every last part of him.

No guarding, no nerves. Just us.

———————————————-

AN: As it has already been established, I'm a cheesy motherfucker. And this practically is a teen romance book so I'm just embracing how tropey it is. Hope you guys liked it. Next time: judgement day, and the morning after :D

Chapter title is from "Too Good" by Troye Sivan