#i was gonna call this dying swan or something but i figure swan lake is easier to for non ballet folks as a reference | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

Text

Family Fun Day

The latest chapter of the Spider Stan AU is here!

Stanford came down to breakfast well-rested and refreshed Saturday morning. Fiddleford was supposed to get back tomorrow night and while Ford was still hurt that his best friend would lie to him, he was eager to finally start making some headway on the portal project. Stan, on the other hand, came into the kitchen looking as disheveled as his brother had ever seen him. There were dark bags under his eyes, and he was still wearing the same clothes he’d had on last night, now wrinkled as an old man. Ford figured this was approximately what he himself had looked like during finals week in college.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” The researcher asked his brother.

Stan gave a negative grunt and made a bee-line for the coffee maker.

“What kept you up?” Ford asked curiously.

His brother shrugged. “Readin’.”

“That’s… not like you.”

“Uh… couldn’t sleep. Started reading through some of your nerd stuff, hoping it’d bore me to sleep. Didn’t work.” Stan crossed his arms and glared at an innocuous spot on the ceiling.

“Oh. Well, if you need help sleeping in the future, I’ve developed some meditation techniques that have helped me.”

Stan took several long slurps of coffee and a few mouthfuls of cold cereal before responding. “Nah. I’m just too stressed.”

“Yes, meditation is meant to help with that.”

“We both been workin’ too hard! We needa take a day off and have some fun!” Stan continued right over his brother’s comment on meditation. “McWhozit’s been havin’ fun in California this whole time, playin’ with his kid, makin’ love to his wife. We deserve a break too!”

“I thought we had fun the other day while we were weight-testing the web shooters.”

“Well, sure, but that was mixin’ work an’ pleasure. I mean actually taking a break . No tests, no studies, no scientific observation. When’s the last time you did that?”

“Well, there was the night I spent at the Corduroy's cabin… although, it turned out to be haunted. I learned a great deal about ghosts, though.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, that. That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talkin’ about. Even when you’re supposed to be takin’ it easy, you end up doing research and/or almost dying. But not today! I officially declare this Family Fun Day! I’m gonna make sure you take a break. What do you do for fun in this hick town?”

Ford rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well… there’s an arcade downtown. I hear they just got a new, cutting-edge game!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Ugh, nerd stuff.”

“Oh, come on, there’s plenty of games where you punch things! You’ll love it!”

“Alright, fine. If that’s what you really wanna do, I’ll give it a shot.”

* * *

The arcade was small, dark, and noisy. Stan was honestly surprised his brother liked it here. He remembered his brother liking quiet, brightly lit places, like the window seat at the library, or an empty beach. The arcade was… overstimulating.

First, Ford dragged him over to what was apparently the newest and most popular game in the whole place. The art on the side of the cabinet showed a gorilla carrying off a damsel in distress, chased by a guy with a red hat and big mustache. It reminded Stan of one of his favorite Harry Claymore movies. Unfortunately, it seemed like every kid and nerd in town wanted to play this game.

“They really should devise a system where they can call up your number when it’s your turn to play.” Ford grumbled as he looked at the long line crowded around the console. “Well, I’m fairly sure that’s just a single-player anyway. Let’s find something cooperative.”

“Um, ok.” Stan followed his brother to another cabinet with no line. It was painted black, with the words BIRD FIGHT written in fancy script at the top, and a knight riding a beautiful white bird flying across the side. Stan watched the pixels move across the screen. “So in this game, you play as a sword-wielding knight… riding a swan?”

Ford scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know it’s silly, but it’s a really fun cooperative game.”

“Are you kidding?” Stan laughed. “That’s the most intimidating thing I’ve ever seen! I tried to break into a mansion with swans on the grounds once. They gave me way more trouble than any guard dog ever did. I almost lost an eye!”

Stan struggled to learn the controls, despite Ford’s efforts to explain them to him. It had a control stick, but it only went left or right. To fly, you had to repeatedly tap the button to flap the swan’s wings. Stop flapping, and you would slowly descend.

“This is dumb.” Stan complained as he died a second time. “Why can’t I go up and down usin’ the stick thing? And how’d my guy get all the way on the other side of the screen all of a sudden!?”

“It’s a wrap around.” Ford replied, as though that meant something.

They made it through the first wave of enemies, mostly thanks to Ford, but it wasn’t long until Stan lost all four of his lives and he was stuck just watching his brother play, because he refused to waste more quarters on this thing. “This is too complicated.” He huffed.

“Well, let’s play something a little simpler.” Ford suggested. They wandered to the back of the arcade, Ford looking over all the different options, trying to decide which one Stan would enjoy. A light gray-and-black cabinet in a dark corner caught his eye. “Hmm, I haven’t seen this one before… Corner of Contradiction? Looks like a beat-em-up, I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”

The controls were certainly more straightforward than Bird Fight. There was a control stick to move your character around the screen, one button labeled “PUNCH”, the other labeled “JUMP”. Enemies always came in from the right side of the screen, so Stan didn’t have to split his attention as much either. He definitely took to this one much more quickly than the last game, but he was still clearly lagging behind Ford in skill. They made it through a whole level before Stan finally ran out of lives again, and Ford knelt down to add some more quarters to allow him to continue playing.

“Oh, what’s this?” The researcher paused when something caught his eye. When he stood back up, he was holding a small scrap of paper with some sort of symbols scribbled onto it. “Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A…” He read out loud. “I suppose B could be the jump button…” Ford input the code, and suddenly both of their life counters read 30. “Fantastic!”

Stan groaned. “We’re gonna spend all day playin’ this game!”

“Aren’t you having fun?” Ford shot him a concerned glance.

“Well sure, but I don’t wanna stay here playin’ this one game through 30 lives, even if I am losing three of them a minute!”

Ford smirked. “You’re just jealous that I’m actually better than you at fighting for once.”

“Please.” Stan scoffed. “Pushin’ a button isn’t fighting. If any of these games were anything like real fighting, I’d cream you.”

Ford’s face lit up. “I think I know just the game!” Once again, he led Stan through the arcade, this time coming to a stop at a very old game cabinet decorated like the American Flag. Instead of buttons or a control stick, it had two red boxing gloves attached to levers. PIXELWEIGHT CHAMP by SHMEGA the sign at the top read.

Stan grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Now this is more like it!”

The gloves were a little small, obviously meant for children, but Stan managed to squeeze his hands in. It wasn’t exactly like real boxing, but he still preferred it to the clunky control sticks and buttons of the other games. This game could tell if he was punching up, down, or even swinging a hook! Ford, for his part, seemed happy to just stand and watch his brother play for a while.

Stan made it through several bouts before finally reaching the final boss. It was the first opponent the game had thrown at him that really gave him any trouble. It kept on dodging every blow he aimed at the computerized contender. Finally, in a fit of frustration, he fell back on his signature move.

“Left Hook!” he shouted.

The left-hand controller ripped out of the cabinet with a metallic shriek and a sputter of sparks.

The twins gaped at the broken and now lightly smoking game before them.

“Time to go.” Stan said quickly, dropping the broken controller on the floor.

“Agreed.”

* * *

“Welp, that was a disaster.” Stan grunted as they sped away in his car. “Hopefully nobody calls the cops.”

“Perhaps, but at least I finally found a game you had fun with.” Ford smiled as he jotted down the cheat code he’d learned earlier in his Journal.

“Yeah, but now we got nothin’ to do for the rest of the day. Yeesh, this car is like an oven.” Stan griped, rolling down the windows. “There a pool in this town?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t recommend we go there.” Ford made a disgusted face. “It’s not exactly sanitary and I have reason to believe one of the life guards is a berserker.”

Stan grimaced. “Yeah, public pools are basically like underwater public busses. But it’s just so stinkin’ hot!”

Ford flipped absentmindedly through his Journal, suddenly stopping when a particular page caught his eye. “We should go to the beach!”

“I ain’t drivin three hours back to Portland just for the beach.”

“No, the beach at Lake Gravity Falls. It’s not exactly like the beach we grew up with but… it does remind me of home.”

“Alright, beach it is! Let’s swing back to your place and grab some swim stuff.”

* * *

The lakeside beach was very different from Glass Shard Beach. For one, it smelled a lot better. The shade of the surrounding cliffs and trees were much welcomed relief from the burning sun. Still, the gentle lapping waves of the lake were nothing compared to the majesty of the ocean. Ford didn’t have an extra pair of swim trunks, so Stan had to acquire some from the nearby bait and tackle shop while his brother wasn’t looking.

“Strange.” Ford mused as he observed the deserted lakeshore. “Given the extreme temperatures and the impending start of the school year, I expected this place to be packed.”

“It was, this mornin’.” The grizzled old lady who ran the bait and tackle shop wheezed ominously. “But somethin’ washed ashore that spooked ‘em all away!”

“What was it?” The researcher asked excitedly.

“Oh no you don’t!” Stan grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Family Fun Day, remember?”

“A giant tooth!” The woman cackled.

“Stanley, come on!” Ford pleaded.

“You need a break, genius!”

“Wasn’t this morning at the arcade enough?”

“Nope. Not for how long you’ve been without one. Now put on some sunblock. This tooth thingy will still be there tomorrow.”

“I bet you twenty dollars it won’t.”

“You should really know better than to bet against me by now.”

* * *

Stan found them a spot on the beach with plenty of shade from a large tree, with plenty of branches hanging over the water, and a couple of large fallen logs that made a good place to sit and leave their stuff without getting sand in everything.

“Y’know, it’s a good thing nobody else is here. Cuz look what I brought!” Stan pulled out one of the web shooters. “The world’s greatest rope swing!”

When Ford didn’t answer, he looked up to see his brother standing on the taller of the two logs, a pair of binoculars in hand, staring at a spot about a mile up the beach where Stan could see the giant tooth the old lady had mentioned. It was easily the size of his car. Ford stuffed the binoculars in his pocket, started a quick sketch in his Journal, and picked them up again for another look. Stan rolled his eyes with a sigh, put on the web shooter, and thwiped a line onto the binoculars, yanking them away with a flick of his wrist.

“Hey!” Ford whined.

“Hey yourself. We’re here to have fun, remember?”

“This is fun to me!” the researcher steamed.

“I know, nerd, but if you keep on working every day without takin’ a break every once in a while, even if it is fun for you, you’re gonna run yourself ragged!”

Ford grumbled, but he couldn’t help but see the sense in his brother’s words. He really hadn’t stopped studying and exploring and theorizing in the past six and a half years, not even for a day. And yet before Bill had proposed the idea of discovering the dimension of weirdness, he’d felt stuck in a rut. He still did, in some respects. Could it be due to burnout?

Still, he wasn’t about to tell Stan he was right. He put his Journal down with a beleaguered sigh. “It’s probably just something to do with the height-altering crystals.” He then looked up with a grin. “So, are you proposing a jumping contest?”

“You know it!” Stan shot a line up to the highest sturdy branch he could find hanging over the lake. “So, has this gauntlet got like, I dunno, a quick release button or something?”

“Actually, it should be waterproof.”

“Should be?”

“Well, I never got around to testing it.”

“Why does that not surprise me? Alright, I’ll take first swing.”

“Why do you get the first swing?” Ford protested.

“Because I’m the one who’s used these things the most, and I’m the most likely to survive if something goes wrong.”

The researcher rolled his eyes, but let his brother proceed with the first swing. Stan ran down the beach, lept off one of the logs, and let the line swing him over the water, where he released the line and sailed forward into the lake with a resounding splash.

“How was that?” Stan asked as soon as he poked his head back out of the water.

“Amateurish!” Ford grinned smugly. “You weren’t even close to the maximum distance of your swing, and your release arc was shallow.”

“Alright, Dr. Physics, let’s see you do better!” Stan splashed him and then threw the web shooter to the shore.

Ford ran along the largest log, leaping off the end towards the water before firing the web shooter up at a high branch. The line held fast, and whipped him out over the water. Just at the farthest point of the pendulum swing, Ford swung his legs out for a little more momentum, then released the line, throwing himself in a long arc before finally crashing down into the lake. He’d almost doubled Stan’s distance.

“Hah!” Ford laughed triumphantly as he swam back to shore.

“Pch, I can do that.” Stan scoffed.

“Well then, why didn’t you?”

“Cuz I didn’t know how until you just showed me, genius.”

Stan’s second attempt followed Ford’s example. He ran along the log and jumped into the air, but he could jump much higher than his brother, and his enhanced senses allowed him to pinpoint exactly where the best place to anchor for his line would be in that split-second of air-time. As the line stretched over the water, Stan shifted his weight and his grip, basically throwing himself off the end of the swing. He practically flew over the water before splashing down, easily doubling his brother’s distance.

“The student has become the master.” Stan grinned when he saw Ford’s shocked expression. They continued to use the web shooters as a rope swing for another couple of hours, each of them improving their techniques to go higher and farther each time, although Ford could never beat Stan’s distance again. Eventually, the researcher gave up on improving his own distance, and set about figuring out how to help Stan break his own record.

“It’s all about momentum.” Ford explained. “You’ve already perfected throwing yourself off the line at the farthest point of the pendulum’s swing, in order to produce the farthest arc you can. In order for you to reach even further into the lake, you’ll need more momentum, and at this point, the best way to add more momentum is to chain together more swings.”

“So, like we were doin’ in the forest a few days ago?”

“Exactly.”

Stan felt his stomach churn at the memory of how the branch had snapped, how he’d unexpectedly started falling. He wasn’t exactly afraid of heights anymore… he was just afraid of being up high and something going wrong. Still, he’d really gotten the hang of swinging today, and chances were even if something did go wrong, he’d just splash down into the lake. That would be fine.

“Ok, I’ll give it a shot.”

Stan climbed up one of the big pine trees a few yards back from the beach, found a sturdy branch to stand on, picked out his first anchor, and leapt into the air. Time seemed to slow down as he reached the end of his first swing. He picked out another anchor over the lake, released his first line, and swung out above the water. He could feel his own weight pulling him forward even as he came to the end of his rope, the momentum Ford had been going on about. Stan just shifted to let the weight carry him on further, and let go of the line. The air rushed past him as he continued up another foot before gravity finally started to overcome his forward motion. When he finally splashed into the water, he was so far from the shore, his brother looked like a little doll.

“Hah, I’m gonna be half-way into the lake if I go any further!” Stan laughed when he finally made it back to shore.

“You probably could, if you got swinging fast enough. Or if we added more weight.”

“More weight, huh?” Stan mused.

“I suppose we could stick water bottles to you, like we did with the car, although I fear that may increase the risk of a bad belly-flop….” Ford trailed off as he saw his brother grinning mischievously at him. “What?”

“I know a way we can double our weight.”

“‘We’? Oh no, no, no, no. No!”

* * *

“The greatest mystery is how I let you talk me into these things.” Ford grumbled, clinging to his brother’s back like a baby monkey.

“Quit your whining, I’m the one who’s afraid of heights.”

“...I honestly thought you were over that. What with the climbing buildings and all.”

“Eh, it’s complicated. I’m still not great with heights, but if I have something sturdy to hold onto or a reliable way to catch myself, it doesn’t bother me as much.”

They reached the large branch that Stan had used for a jumping-off platform before. Stan lined up his first anchor while Ford tried his best not to throw his brother off-balance. “You ready?” The Spider Man asked.

Ford took a deep breath before nodding. “Ready.”

At first, it wasn’t too different from the rope swing, except now he was holding onto his brother’s shoulders for dear life. Then they reached the end of the first pendulum swing and Ford felt his stomach leap up as they briefly achieved weightlessness. Then the forward yank of the next line set his heart racing as they shot up, over the water. There was one final moment of weightlessness, and Ford let out a holler of delight before finally dunking into the water.

It was better than any roller-coaster.

They came up out of the water gasping and laughing, splashing and shouting with triumph. It wasn’t exactly half-way into the lake, but they’d certainly gone farther than ever before. Unfortunately, that also meant it was a much farther swim back to shore. By the time they got back, the sun was starting to set.

“Welp, better lay down and dry off in the sun while we still can.” Stan mused, pulling off the web shooter and trying to find a spot on the log that wasn’t covered in shade.

“Actually, I think I know a faster way to dry off.” Ford picked up the gauntlet and gave his brother a significant look.

“Really, you wanna go again?”

“Just the swinging bit. The air rushing past us will dry us off in no time.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

The second time wasn’t nearly as scary to Ford, although he got the feeling Stan was still a little apprehensive about swinging with a passenger. Still, they swung through the trees together with little problem. It was thrilling. And while it certainly dried them off, the rushing air coupled with the dropping air temperature presented a new problem.

“Cccold!” Stan stuttered as they came to a stop back at the beach where they had left their things. He quickly changed back into his jeans and a jacket.

“We’ll have to remember to do this to dry off while the sun is still high, in the future.”

“Oh, so you’re sayin’ you’d do Family Fun Day again?”

Ford rolled his eyes, but smiled. “I’m sure you’ll force me to take breaks more often than once every six years.”

DOG KLJQ TTIE Y KUZ LLW? BHMB L QSODM QCXT! U KLL’Y WMQE RT FUVLJQY EPZU DOGZ HMWLP PZU YO DMLJQY BICRD!

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #Spider Stan AU #My Writing #Spiderstan AU

15 notes · View notes

bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years

Text

The Black Swan

Chapter 8

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 8200

Chapter: 8/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Baz and Simon go to a party.

Read on AO3

AN: Hello! Sorry this was delayed. I promise you it's worth the wait. It's super fun and there's awesome art by @bookerella. Enjoy :)

———————————————

“Baz!” Simon shouted as he jumped off the dirt wall. He nearly fell over as he hit the ground, what with two rucksacks on his back throwing him off balance. “Baz!”

“For goodness sake, Simon, I’m right here,” Baz called back. “I’m literally the only person here.” He was standing by the lake, just throwing on his shirt. Simon caught himself staring at a strip of reddish-gold skin on his lower back. His throat suddenly got very dry.

“Simon? Simon, are you there?” Baz was standing right in front of him, waving a hand in Simon’s face. His brow was adorably furrowed. It almost distracted from the large purple bruise on his upper cheek. Simon’s gut twisted very painfully. It just confirmed how much he needed to do this.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. His excitement returned in full force, a grin splitting across his face. “And I’ve got something exciting to tell you!”

Baz raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay okay, awesome.” Simon plopped down on the ground. Baz sat cross legged directly across from him. “So, Watford doesn’t have a lot of holidays, but we have this big one, the solstice festival. It’s this enormous party celebrating the end of the long nights and the start of the longer days. Everyone gets together and just has a great time. The biggest solstice festival is in Watford Town. And it’s tomorrow.”

“Sounds wonderful," he deadpans. "Why are you telling me about it? Is this an impromptu history lesson?”

Simon took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what reaction Baz would have, but he knew it would be something he needed to prepare for. “No. I’m saying...that we should go. Both of us. We should go to the festival together.”

Simon saw many emotions pass over Baz’s face. The initial confusion as he processed Simon’s words, the quick bolt of shock as he understood their meaning, followed by splash of fear, and ending with straight up utter panic.

“No!” Baz yelled frantically, scrambling away from Simon. “No! Absolutely not! No fucking way!”

Simon inched forward a bit, but Baz backed away even more. “Baz, just listen-”

Baz stood up and kept his back to Simon, arms crossed over his chest. “I will not listen, because this is crazy.”

“I mean, is it though?”

“Yes!” Baz turned his head, letting Simon see a corner of his glare. “Have you forgotten my situation, Simon? I’m a prisoner, a cursed prisoner, who is meant to stay in this lake!

“But...you fly out of here as a swan...”

“That’s different! I’m supposed to stay here when I’m human. No one is supposed to see me. Especially not hundreds of people at a bloody festival!”

Simon stood up, nervously fiddling with the hem of his tunic. “Well, no one would actually see you.”

Baz narrowed his gaze even more. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“People dress up for the festival. Everyone wears a pretty costume and a mask. No one sees your face.”

Baz turned his body halfway around, but his arms were still crossed. “Are they actually effective at hiding your identity?”

“Well, I think they do. Look at this.” Simon rummaged in his bag and pulled out the mask he bought for himself. He hadn’t been able to resist it while scoping out the market, honestly. It was a bright red dragon’s face with a long snout. The front was decorated with small, glittery crystals. Gold mesh and red fabric lined the edge that looked like flames. Four golden horns curled out from the top. Simon saw it yesterday and it was just too gorgeous not to buy. And from Baz’s wide eyes, he liked it too.

Simon held it in front of his face, not bothering with the stupid ribbon on the back. “See? Can barely tell it’s me, right?”

Baz turned all the way. He still didn’t look fully convinced though. His eyes flicked upward. “I can still see your hair, and it’s...distinctive.” Simon swore there was some colour on Baz’s cheeks, but his complexion and bruise obscured it. “Mine is too. What if the man sees my hair? I don’t know if he lives in town or not.”

Simon pulled a piece of thick red fabric from his bag and threw it on his head. He knew it looked silly but that wasn't the point right now. “You can wear a headscarf, like this. I do it all the time when I go into town.”

“Why?”

Simon inhaled sharply. Shit, he thought. He was glad Baz couldn’t see his entire face right now. That fleeting confidence he’d had about revealing his royalty a few nights ago was definitely gone by now. “Uh, people stare at my hair. Like you said, it’s distinctive. I find it annoying, so, scarf.”

Baz's resolve cracked, eyes softening and arms lowering slightly. But he still didn’t look fully convinced. “This is still really risky. If he sees me out of the lake, he would most likely kill me. Or worse, he might kill you.”

The breath left Simon’s lungs for a moment. He didn’t know how to interpret that. Was Baz just horrified at the idea of someone else dying because of him? Or Simon in particular dying? It was too confusing. He didn’t want to think it through.

Simon took a step forward, letting the mask fall from his face, figuratively and literally. He tried to look at Baz as sympathetically as possible.

“Baz,” he said softly, “I definitely get why you’re scared. He’s a scary man. But...I think it would be worth it to get out there instead of being cooped up here like a hermit.”

“It’s not like that’s my choice,” Baz hissed.

Simon raised his hands in deference. “I-I know, Baz, of course I know that. I’m not blaming you, it’s obviously not your fault. I’m just saying, it might be a good idea to get out of here for one night. You may still be stuck with your curse for now, but you’re human at heart, and you need to be around other humans.”

The other boy looked down, frowning slightly, digging his bare toe into the ground. “I’m around you a lot.”

That made something warm pool in Simon’s stomach. It sounded dangerously close to a compliment. Simon couldn’t be sure. But that wasn’t what was important right now. He took another few steps forward. Baz didn’t step back.

“Yeah, you are, but I’m only one human. When we break you’re curse, you’re going to have to be around other people. So, this can be a trial run for when you’re free.” Baz bit his lip at the last word. Simon couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or fear. “Plus, it’ll be really fun. Lots of singing, dancing, nice food. I promise, we’ll have a great time.”

Baz chuckled. “I’d have to trust you on that, I’ve never been to a party.”

“And you should get to go to one, stupid curse or not.” The boys were standing very close. Close enough that Simon could put a hand on Baz’s shoulder, and Baz flinched, but he didn’t pull away. “Honestly though? I really just think you should do something fun. It might distract you from...other stuff.”

Simon looked at Baz’s purple cheek. Baz’s hand instinctively hovered over it, then let it drop fast, looking somewhere between angry and embarrassed. Simon wanted so badly to take his pain away. He wasn’t sure if a festival could do that, but he could at least try.

“What if he comes to check on me?” Baz asked quietly.

“You said he only comes every few weeks or months,” Simon replied, “so he won’t be back for awhile.”

Baz nodded. “What about the sunrise?”

“It’s the longest night of the year. You won’t have to worry about the sunrise for awhile.”

“What if he spots me?”

“We’ll run very, very fast.”

That made Baz smile, ever so slightly. But his face quickly fell again. He reached up to touch his bruise again, fingertips barely touching the area. “What about...this? Would a mask help?”

Simon grinned. He was very proud of this part. He reached into his second bag, and pulled out the second mask he bought. “Yeah, I think it would.”

Baz cautiously took the mask. It was elegant, which was what caught Simon’s attention. The base was made of ebony with painted accents. The forehead was mostly black, with sprays of silver coming out from the edges to spread across the mask’s surface until only the nose was bare, making a sort of half hourglass pattern. Simon thought it looked like bursts of moonlight on a night sky. The mask covered the forehead and cheeks, but left the mouth visible. It was beautiful, and would certainly work for Baz.

“See?” Simon said. “That will hide it for sure.”

Baz tilted it back and forth, examining it with his careful, analytical gaze. He traced the silver lattice pattern lining the eye holes with a single finger. Simon couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His mouth twisted and changed, like words wanted to burst out but he kept them back. Simon’s nerves mounted with every passing second. He wanted Baz to want this, he wanted Baz to have some fun, he wanted to show Baz the world they were working towards getting him into.

“Do you have a costume for me too?” he asked. “Because none of my clothes are will probably be sufficiently flashy.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Simon offered his second rucksack, the top already opened. Baz looked inside. His eyes widened for a moment, then he gave Simon a deadpan look.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he said.

Simon shrugged, mouth pulled in a sheepish smile. “I’ve been told I can be.”

Baz closed the rucksack. He looked at Simon with a soft expression. And he sighed. “Alright, I’ll go to the festival with you.”

A fire exploded in Simon’s heart. Excitement rushed through his veins. He jumped up and down and clapped like an excited school child. “Amazing! Awesome! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“I do hope so.” Baz carefully put the bag down. “We’re risking our lives for it.”

Simon was about to rebut or apologize, but Baz swiftly picked up his stick-sword and pointed it at Simon’s face. He had an annoyingly smug smirk on his face.

“Now, enough about costumes and parties,” he drawled with smug confidence. “I’ve been looking forward to beating you for days.”

Simon’s competitiveness, the kind he only really felt with Baz, raged back in full force. He threw aside his bag and swiftly picked up his own stick. He took his fighting stance, smirking as well.

“Well then,” he said, “en garde.”

———————————————

Sneaking out of the palace in common clothes was hard enough as it was. But climbing out a window in a tight costume jacket and pants. He didn’t want to be spotted by the guards or a passerby either, and the bright red peeking out from his cloak didn’t help. Simon did it anyway, repelling down the wall slowly as to not rip his trousers, keeping his brown cloak close around him, using his wand a bit to clear a path in the Forbidden Lands. (Though he ended up destroying a few trees.)

But he did it, he managed to get through. And soon enough, he was poorly cushioning his fall into Baz’s lake. He hit the dirt with a hard thump.

“Ow,” he groaned.

“You really do suck at magic,” Baz chuckled. Simon looked up.

Then the whole world seemed to freeze.

Baz was beautiful, Simon knew that. It was an objective fact. Elegant face, perfect hair, incredible eyes. Beautiful, no question. But right now, he was...he was so much more. Tonight, he was goddamn majestic.

Simon’s eyes scanned upward. The black boots and leather riding pants perfectly stretched over Baz’s toned calves and powerful thighs. His double breasted jacket showed off his lean figure without making him look thin. Simon could see the outline of his strong arms through the long sleeves. It was black too of course, woven with feather patterns made from stunning silver thread. A matching silver scarf was draped loosely around his long neck. His hair was slicked back, showing off his pretty smirking face. Though Simon really did prefer it loose. Oh well. He couldn’t get everything he wanted. But Baz was smiling so wide that Simon barely noticed his bruise. So he was pretty damn happy.

“You want to get up, Simon?” Baz asked with amusement.

Simon was shocked out of his daze. He huffed and offered his hand. “Yeah. Help me up.”

Baz hoisted Simon to his feet. Simon’s wool cloak fell with him. Baz’s hand dropped, and his eyes went wide.

“Huh,” he whispered. “That’s...quite the outfit.”

Simon looked down at himself. He didn’t know whether it was a compliment or not. He thought he looked okay. His scarlet jacket was longer than Baz’s, reaching to his calves instead of the middle of his knees. And it only had one set of gold buttons instead of two sets made of silver. The tails were decorated with orange and gold so it looked like fire spilling down his back. Fire was a theme with this outfit. His red trousers even had gold flames stitched on the sides. Sure, it all looked sort of ridiculous, but everyone at the festival looked ridiculous. And not everyone could look as incredible as Baz.

“Does it look bad?” Simon asked meekly.

Baz shook his head. “Certainly not.” He reached out to fix the collar of Simon’s white shirt, flattening it down against his coat. “You look like a very nice fairy tale creature.”

Simon’s stomach and chest felt very, very hot. He wasn't used to compliments, and the feeling of one just washed over him in a very pleasant way. He grinned at Baz. “Thanks.”

Baz held his arms out and gave a little spin, coat tails waving in the slight wind. “How do I look?”

“Incredible,” Simon blurted out. He felt his cheeks heat up and looked at the ground. “You, you look good. You’re practically made for fancy clothes, I think.”

Baz bowed deeply, arms on his stomach and back, hair nearly brushing the ground. “Well, thank you, good sir.”

Simon giggled with a hand over his mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

“So is this outfit, but I’m not complaining.” He started walking forwards, mask swinging from his fingertips. “Come along then, I want to see this wonderful festival.”

Simon nodded and followed along. “Yeah, let’s go.”

They walked to the wall. Baz looked up at with a tense mouth and worried eyes. Simon knew he was scared. He hadn’t been out of this lake as a human for fourteen years. Of course he’d be scared. But Simon didn’t want him to be. So, being the brave idiot he knew he was, Simon reached out brushed the back of his hand against Baz’s. A small gesture, but the sensation of Baz’s skin on his radiated through Simon’s entire being anyways. Baz flinched, but only slightly.

“Don’t worry,” Simon said softly. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll be fine.”

“I bloody hope so,” Baz replied under his breath.

Simon took a deep breath, and fully grabbed Baz’s hand. Their calluses scraped against each other. Baz didn’t flinch at all. Simon somehow felt tense and happy all at once. Like a storm made of sunlight. “Let’s go.”

Simon, despite being quite strong, was not strong enough to hoist both Baz and himself up over the wall by sword. He didn’t even have his sword tonight anyway. So he had to magically lift up both of them and over, something he had not been looking forward to. It was a relatively simple spell but magic was never simple for Simon. He reached into his coat and pulled out his wand. The damn thing rarely worked, but it was slightly safer than just wishing for something to happen and hoping it worked. He held it up high.

“Up and out!” He shouted. Nothing happened. Baz made a confused noise. Simon groaned and shook the stupid stick. “Come on, please.”

He squeezed his eyes and thought very, very hard about how much he wanted to get both of them out of here. Then their feet were off the ground. Baz gasped and held Simon's hand tighter. Simon cautiously opened his eyes. They were at least three feet off the ground, rising slowly, the lake disappearing below. Baz’s other hand gripped his bicep.

“Amazing,” he whispered.

Simon’s heart swelled with pride. He grinned and leaned closer to Baz. And that little thought was all it took for Simon’s concentration to break.

They rocketed upwards out of the the lake, so fast and high they hit a tree branch. Simon’s shoulder hit it very painfully. But falling and crashing into the forest floor hurt far, far worse. They both hit with a resounding thud, leaves falling around them.

“Less amazing,” Baz grumbled.

“Sorry,” Simon said as he sat up, rubbing his shoulder. Luckily, their costumes were still okay, just a few leaves they needed to brush off. Simon stood up and slipped his wand back into his jacket. Baz stood as well and shook the dirt out of his hair.

“Well,” Baz sighed. “It wasn’t dignified but at least it was effective. We’re out.”

Simon smiled sheepishly. “Yeah that’s true.”

Baz tilted his head up and looked around. It obviously wasn’t the first time he’d seen outside the lake, but it was the first time he’d seen it as a human. Maybe the world looked different through the eyes of a swan. Simon hoped Baz liked it through the eyes of a human too.

Baz held out his mask to Simon. “Can you help me put this on now? The ribbons are annoying as shit to do on your own.”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, yeah of course, turn around.”

Baz did, longish hair facing Simon. Luckily there was still a bit of twilight, so Simon could mostly see what he was doing. With shaky fingers, he fitted the mask over Baz’s face and tied the ribbon in a slightly messy bow. Baz turned back around and simultaneously threw on his silver scarf. It was strange. Simon knew it was Baz, of course, but the mask and scarf made him almost unrecognizable. He looked less like the Baz he knew and more like a mysterious gentleman, with a face like the night sky and hair made of moonlight.

“Good?” Baz asked with a smirk.

Simon swallows down his dry throat. He reached forward and tucked a stray black hair under his scarf. The silver goes with his eyes, he thought to himself. Baz smiled almost shyly.

“There, perfect,” Simon said. He offered his own mask. “Do up mine?”

Baz nodded. Simon turned. The dragon mask fit perfectly over his face. Baz easily tied the ribbon with deft fingers. Simon threw on his own scarf and turned on his heels with flourish. He held his arms out dramatically.

“Good?” He echoed.

Baz grinned, and it shined far more than the silver in his outfit. “Stunning.”

Simon’s heart swelled. He was filled with excitement beyond words. He offered his hand, and Baz took it. “Let’s go.”

And they ran off together into the darkness but towards the distant light.

———————————————

In the most accurate summary, the solstice festival was fucking insane.

Simon hadn’t been to one since he was 15 when he, Agatha, and Penny had snuck out of School to go. And he’d forgotten how crazy it all was. It seemed everyone was out to party tonight. Houses were covered in shining cloths. Torches had multicolored magical fire, decorating the walls in rainbow shades. Streamers flew off everything from balconies to people’s arms. The air itself felt electric with the laughter and music. The narrow streets of Watford Town were packed tight with cheering costumed citizens. He and Baz were bumped around so much it made Simon dizzy.

Baz had a death grip on his hand. Simon glanced back, and Baz looked absolutely terrified. He was pulled in on himself and his eyes were darting around. Someone bumped him particularly hard and he jumped. This wouldn’t do.

Simon directed them towards a small alleyway. It was mostly empty, save for two women in such a passionate embrace they barely noticed anyone else. Simon looked away from them with slightly reddened cheeks. Baz was visibly shaken. His lips were trembling slightly.

“You okay?” Simon asked, having to yell over the noise. “We can go if you want.”

Baz shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I’m just not used to this many people and this much noise up close. Seeing from above is different from being in the middle of it. It’s...very odd.”

Simon squeezed his hand. “You sure want to stay?”

A smile quirked up on his mouth. “Definitely. I think this looks fun, in spite of the crowds.”

Simon nodded and pulled them towards the exit. “Then let’s get out of here.”

They went back into the fray. It was still loud and insane, but Baz wasn’t holding his hand as tightly.

Just as the two turned a corner, a lady in a magnificent mermaid outfit approached them. She got very close in their faces. Baz tensed for a moment, but quickly relaxed. Simon felt relieved.

“Want some mini scones?” she yelled

Simon looked back at Baz. Baz shrugged. Simon turned back to her. “Sure,” he said.

The woman offered her tray, and Simon plucked two pastries. He handed one to Baz, then tapped them together. Even from behind the mask, Simon could tell Baz’s brow had furrowed.

“Cheers,” Simon said. “Happy festival, Baz.”

Baz’s mouth pulled up into a half smile. “Happy festival, Simon.”

They popped the small treats in their mouths. Simon beamed instantly. It was a sour cherry scone. They weren’t as good as Cook Pritchard’s, of course, but sour cherry scones were still sour cherry scones. Baz made a strange face. It wasn’t exactly a frown, but it wasn’t a smile either. He looked confused more than anything.

“What do you think?” Simon asked.

“Better than lake plants and worms,” Baz said. Simon chuckled, shaking his head. “It really is good though, I like it.”

Simon grinned, his heart fluttering. It was probably weird to feel flattered by someone liking your favourite pastry, but Simon didn’t think too much about that. He just let himself be happy.

“Good. Wanna try some other foods? There’s lots here.”

Baz nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.”

Simon took Baz down towards the shop alley. The stalls were decorated in every colour imaginable. Merchants were yelling, hawking their food and wares. Simon pulled them through it, scanning over the tables for something good. He stopped at a glittery stall with a man wearing a vibrant blue mask. Simon asked two mince pie slices. Baz took a small bite, then greedily shoved the rest in his mouth. Simon chuckled while Baz glared at him.

“Shut up, I’m hungry,” he grumbled.

As they left, Simon quietly paid the man. He didn’t want Baz to know how much coin he had in his inner coat pocket, courtesy of not using his allowance for three months.

They weaved their way to another place with fish cakes, then another with caramel drizzled apple slices, then even one with roast beef bites. Baz ate them all and more. Simon thought he was ravenous, but Baz was a sinkhole where no food could survive. Being a swan who had to eat worms did that to you, Simon guessed.

“Oh goodness,” Baz groaned quietly. “It tastes so good.”

“Never had food like this before? Not even with Vera?” Simon asked.

Baz shook his head vigorously. “Definitely not. We always got very bland foods to cook with. Mint pie was the closest we had to something good.”

Simon’s heart felt warm. He was so happy that Baz was happy. It was a unique kind of joy that Simon had only felt with his friends, but never this intensely before. Never like it would burn him from the inside out until he was blissful dust.

He didn’t know how to say all that casually to Baz though. So Simon just kept holding his hand and gave him another slice of toasted sweet bread.

After sampling a feast’s worth of flavours, they moved further into the market, where there were more wares instead of food. Baz examined the glittering glassware and fine metalwork. He traced a glass bowl swirling with dark blue and bright red. It was obviously shaped by magic. Baz was quite fascinated. Simon was about to offer to buy it, when a familiar voice cut through the bustling crowd.

“Si? Is that you?”

Simon whipped around. Right behind them, past a very drunk couple dressed as horses, was a kitchenware stand with a girl wearing a feathered purple mask and matching cape. Simon grinned. “Hey, Penny!” he shouted, pulling him and Baz towards her.

“What the hell are you doing out tonight?” She asked. “Thought David didn’t want you out.”

“Since when has that stopped me?” Simon chuckled, trying to hide his nerves. He was so scared Penny would let something about his royal status slip. He could only hope and prayed his princehood wouldn’t come up.

Penny scoffed. “Okay, true.” Her eyes flicked over to Baz. “Who’s this?”

Simon’s heart seized, and Baz’s hand was like a vice on his. They both knew they were thinking the same thing. Anyone could be the cloaked man. What if Penny accidentally said Baz’s name to him? It wouldn’t be her fault, but it was a risk they couldn’t take.

“Uh,” Simon said, “this is my new friend. His name is...Kaz.”

There was a brief silence (as silent as a bustling festival could get.) Baz gave Simon a deadpan look through his mask. Penny was just severely confused.

“Kaz,” she said it slowly, testing the sound in her mouth.

“Y-Yeah,” Simon replied. “He’s from...out of town. Just moved here recently.”

“Is he who you were talking about before?”

Baz’s grip somehow got even tighter. Simon’s nervousness was at its peak. “M-hm. And I think I’m helping. Right, Kaz?”

Baz gave him an odd look, but mumbled, “sure,” anyway.

Simon nodded. Penny still looked confused and bit doubtful. “Um, Kaz, this is Penelope. She’s my good friend.”

Baz, though obviously very nervous, offered his own hand. “Hi, Simon’s friend Penelope,” he said stiffly, voice similar to how it was when he first met Simon.

Penny very cautiously took it. They shook slowly. “Hi...Kaz. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

They’re hands fell awkwardly. Baz shifted closer to Simon. Penny still looked at both of them doubtfully.

“So how are sales?” Simon asked very, very quickly.

Penny sighed. She stopped looking so doubtful. Getting Penny to complain about her job was the best way to distract her. “They’re alright. People aren’t really interested in cookware during a festival, annoying drunk bastards. But it’s fine.”

“Glad to hear it. You going to be off anytime soon?”

“No, I’m working all night.”

Simon frowned. “Aw, that sucks. We’d all have fun together!” He meant that. No matter how scared he was about his royalty being revealed, he really wanted was to have fun with his friend.

Penny gave a lopsided smile and reached out to pat Simon’s free hand. “It’s fine, Si. You and Kaz go have fun. I’ll see you next time you sneak out, alright?”

He gripped her hand for a moment. “Okay. See you later, Pen.”

“See you, Si! Uh, see you, Kaz.” She waved them both off. Simon waved back with his whole arm, but Baz just moved his hand slightly. He nudged Simon forward, and Simon was happy to comply.

The two went back into the crowd. Baz was still hanging on to Simon’s hand, like he had almost all night, but his grip felt a bit looser.

“Did you tell her about me? About my...problem?” he asked, seemingly pissed off but also maybe a little scared.

Simon immediately shook his head. “No! No, of course not. I just told her I had a friend who was sad and needed to be cheered up. She suggested the festival.”

“And she doesn’t know anything else?”

“No. I mean, I’ve asked her about curses a few times because she’s smart, and borrowed some books from her, but she doesn’t know it’s about you. She thinks my guardian is testing me on magic history.”

Baz still looked a bit doubtful, but nodded. “Alright. I suppose that makes sense.” His eyes slid over to Simon, fixing him with a cold grey stare. “What did she mean about sneaking out though?”

Simon inhaled through his nose. His heart seized like it had the many times he had gotten close to telling Baz. But not right now. He didn’t want to fight with him tonight, when Baz was supposed to be having the night of his life. So Simon just leaned a bit closer so he didn’t have to yell.

“My guardian's super strict,” he said. “He doesn’t like me going out a lot. He gets really mad when I do.”

Baz raised one brow, or at least Simon assumed he did from the way his muscles moved, what with the mask in the way. “Then how do you see me almost every night?”

Simon grinned as brightly as he could. “Well, I have to sneak out my window, actually. It’s risky, but,” he tugged on Baz’s hand, making the other boy stumble just a bit closer, “I think it’s worth it.”

Baz’s face relaxed, and Simon let a sigh of relief. Baz squeezed his hand once. “Good to know.”

They wandered around the market for a little longer. Baz spent an exorbitant amount of time at a book stand. Simon had to remind him that their time was longer than usual but still limited. Baz pouted but moved on. They ate some more food, Simon discreetly paying for each, and moved closer and closer to the main town square. Just as they were about to reach it, a man crossed their path. He was wearing a cloak made of peacock feathers, and just like the mermaid lady, he had a tray balanced on his hand. But instead of scone bites, it held tiny wooden glasses.

“Spirits to get you into the solstice spirit!” He yelled extremely cheerfully. “Free sample!”

Simon was taken aback, literally and figuratively. He looked at Baz in silent question. Baz nodded, then Simon turned back to the man.

“We’ll each take one,” Simon said. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Happy festival!” He handed Simon two cups. Baz nodded at the man, movement a little less awkward than his movements before.

The peacock man moved on into the fray. Baz brought his nose to his cup, took a sniff, then reeled back, mouth twisted in disgust. “Good Gods, it smells horrific! What is this?”

Simon looked in his cup. The liquid was clear, and it smelled like the disinfectant you used on cuts. Simon knew exactly what it was. “It’s northern spirits. They make it from grain up there. It smells terrible and tastes even worse from what I’ve heard.”

“Then why on Earth would anyone drink it?!”

Simon shrugged. “It makes you loopy and relax, I guess. People make a big fuss about it.”

Baz looked at the drink suspiciously. He flicked his eyes to Simon. “I’ll drink it if you do?”

Simon smiled. He lightly tapped his cup against Baz’s. “Cheers, Baz.”

His face relaxed, and he raised his own cup slightly. “Cheers, Simon.”

And they both drank. But the second the spirit passed their lips though, both their eyes went wide. Simon immediately knew what he heard was correct, it did taste worse than it smelled. Baz pulled the cup away and coughed, hand pressed to his chest. Simon wasn’t much better, hand over his mouth. Barely a sip and his throat was on fire.

“Dear Gods,” Baz coughed, “it’s vile!”

“Agreed,” Simon strangled out.

“At least we know all the fuss is about. And that’s it stupid.”

Simon chuckled. “Definitely.” He looked down at his still full cup. “Wow, barely took a sip and I’m dying.”

Baz looked down at his as well. “Same here. And I’m not taking another one.” He poured the clear liquid on the ground with no shame, then left the wooden cup on a window sill. Simon did the same. It was the solstice festival, things were supposed to be crazy. Leaving a tiny cup on a window was probably the most normal thing that would happen tonight.

"Can we please find something better than this awful drink?" Baz asked almost pathetically.

Simon grinned. He grabbed Baz’s hand again and pulled him forward. “Come and see.”

They shoved past the crowds, and ended up exactly where Simon wanted to be. He heard Baz gasp. And it was a well earned gasp.

The town square was usually bustling, but it was nothing compared tonight. Possibly hundreds of people were all gathered in the space. All cheering, jumping and dancing. A band on a riser was playing an upbeat tune. At the centre was the large wooden pole. Streamers flowed from the top, latching on to the surrounding houses to create a canopy of wondrous colours. Magically made tiny balls of light weaved around the fabric strands. It felt like they were transported to another world. And Simon knew part of him never wanted to leave.

“Wow,” Baz whispered, “incredible.”

“Yeah,” Simon replied. “Told you, best party in the whole kingdom.”

“I can believe that. Though this isn’t really showing me normal non-cursed human life, is it?”

Simon chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I guess not. But I’m showing you something fun, right?”

Baz’s mouth quirked up. “Yes, you definitely are.”

Simon's pulse somehow got even faster. That was all he wanted, for Baz to have fun. He looked out towards the square. An idea that entered his head, and Simon was impulsive to say the least. So he pulled Baz forward. Baz followed, until they ended up right next to the dancing circle.

“Simon, what-” Baz was cut off as Simon pulled them both into the circle. The other costumed patrons immediately accepted them, grabbing their free hands, and they were suddenly dancing. Simon struggled for a moment. He didn’t know the dance but it wasn’t that hard. You took five steps to the right, then ten to the left, crossing your feet over each other, then throw your arms in the air with a cheer. It was a group effort, a beautiful pattern of small parts making something so big together. Something Simon was part of. Simon looked over to Baz. The other boy was still struggling somewhat, but there was a big smile on his face. He laughed with no hesitation, no worry, and Simon felt like his soul was on fire.

The song changed, and the strangers were suddenly letting go of their hands. Simon watched as they quickly paired off and danced together. Baz turned to him.

“Are we supposed to dance with each other now?” he asked with a lot of hesitation.

Simon chewed the corner of his lip and shuffled his feet. “Do you want to?”

Baz tapped his fingers on his upper thigh, other hand still loosely holding Simon’s. “I don’t really know how...”

“Oh, right. Do, uh, do you...want me to show you?”

Baz looked down at the ground, but he pressed their hands closer. “If you can...”

Simon’s cheeks were flaming. He wasn’t sure he could, but he wanted to try for Baz. He tugged Baz closer, and the other boy stumbled again. “I’ll certainly try.”

Baz nodded slightly. Simon took a deep breath. He tried to recall all that damn ball training David put him through. “Okay,” he said slowly, “first, um, we hold our arms out. Together.” Simon stretched out their arms, slightly bent at the elbow, fingers weaved together. “Then...I think you...hold my waist with your other arm.” Baz did so without hesitation. His hand was on the small of Simon’s back, touch firm and strong. Simon gulped. “Yeah, like that. And I, I actually don’t know what to do with my arm.”

“Maybe put it on my shoulder?”

Simon nodded. “Y-Yeah, that would work.”

Very slowly, Simon put his hand on Baz’s shoulder. It was like any other shoulder, of course. Firm, strong, made of muscles and sinew and blood. Yet somehow it felt like so, so much more.

“Now what?” Baz asked.

“Uh, now, we move in a sort of box formation. You go back, then right, then forward, then left, then we do the whole thing again. Does that make sense?”

Baz nodded once. “Yes, I think so. But hearing is a lot different than doing.”

Simon squeezed his hand in an attempt in reassurance. “It’s okay. We’ll go slow. And you can look at my feet, alright?”

Baz looked down, but squeezed back. “Alright. Let’s try.”

Simon took a deep breath, looked down, then stepped forward. Baz followed. It was simple. At least, doing it once was simple. And they were both still very stiff. They stepped again to the side, but each went in a different direction, tripping over each other’s feet.

“Right!” Simon said. “We go right!”

“I did go right,” Baz replied, frowning at Simon.

“My right, Baz.”

Baz groaned. “So picky.”

Simon hated his smug little smirk. He stuck his tongue. Baz chuckled, and they picked up the dance again. They went to Simon’s right, then backwards, then Simon’s left, all with little problem. With only a couple missteps, they found the rhythm, tuned into the music and each other. One two three four, one two three four, over and over, stepping and spinning into the colourful night. The boys moved like one being, soaring across the cobblestone together. A spell was over them, it seemed. Where rainbow lights decorated the sky and their feet were dancing on air.

Soon, Simon felt confident enough to look up, and to his utter but pleasant shock, Baz was looking up too. Their eyes met. Simon almost lost focus, losing himself in Baz’s criminally beautiful gaze. Baz’s mouth fell open slightly, then pulled into a soft smile. Simon smiled back, and they kept soaring across the ground.

———————————————

“Gods,” Baz chuckled as he fell on to the bench. “I can’t feel my feet.”

“Me neither,” Simon giggled as well, sitting next to him. The bench was just on the edge of town, far enough away from the loud music and cheering to let them collect their heads. They had danced for what felt like an eternity, with each other and with the group. It was heady, incredible, almost felt like a dream. Simon was still giddy from it. And from the look on his face, Baz was too.

Baz sighed, leaning back on the bench. “So, that’s what a party is like.”

Simon leaned back as well, head tilted over the back. “Well, not every party, but yeah, that one is pretty insane.”

“You been to other parties?”

Simon tensed for a moment, but quickly found what to say. “Yeah, a few. My guardian likes me to go, for status and all. I hate them usually.”

“Hm, understandable. I’ve always wondered what they were like since that one years ago.”

“Wait, have you seen a party before? Which one?”

Baz’s face suddenly fell. He shifted uncomfortably, gripping his trouser material. Simon was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say that. “Damn mask,” he grumbled. “It’s too hot.”

He pulled down his scarf and ripped off his mask. He let out a long breath, eyes closed. Simon found Baz’s full face a welcome sight. He liked looking at Baz. It was nice to see him again, even with that big bruise still on his cheek.

Simon took off his own mask, placing it in his lap. He ran his fingers over the the mesh and tiny gems. He’d have to hide this from David, but he was going to keep it no matter what.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Simon said quietly. “But whatever happened, I won’t judge you, I promise.”

Baz cracked open one eye. He scanned Simon over once, then sighed. He looked forward, arms crossed over his chest.

“It was ages ago,” Baz said. “One night, I was flying over the town with the other swans. I heard lots of cheering from below, like the sounds tonight. People were milling about and all. It looked and sounded fun, but my bird senses didn’t like the noise though. So, I went back to the lake, for the first time in awhile...”

Simon’s brow furrowed. “Wait, I thought you had to be on the lake to be human again.”

Baz’s mouth tensed for a moment. His fists clenched. “Remember...when I said I didn’t understand the curse at first? I didn’t get it for quite awhile. So I was...stuck as a swan for some time. I don’t know how long, the days became a bit of a blur. That’s when I lost track of my age.” Simon inhaled sharply. He struggled to not get up and punch a tree until it was splinter. “But that night, when I landed on the lake, I finally became human again. I was a lot taller than what I remembered, so I know it had been awhile. I looked up towards the party sounds in the distance, and there were these bursts of light in the sky. Just, huge flashes of purple and green. The childish part of me wondered if they were celebrating me being human again. Stupid, I know, but I was- well, who knows how old, but still young.”

“You were sixteen,” Simon blurted out. “You...you would’ve been sixteen around then.”

Baz looked at Simon curiously. “How do you know that?”

Simon looked very pointedly at his lap. “Because I know what party that was. It was all over town. I was sixteen when it happened, so you would’ve been sixteen too.”

“Hm, at least I know now.”

He fiddled with his trousers with shaky fingers. Of course Simon knew that party. He’d hated it. It was his own horrible sixteenth birthday ball, where he had to schmooze nobles instead of being with his friends. David had also declared the day a town wide celebration. It hadn’t been as big as the solstice festival but it had been big enough. David had ended the night by having some mages set off magical fireworks from their wands. Simon remembered loving the way they lit up the night sky. It was the only good part of that dreadfully boring night. And while Simon had been enjoying pretty lights on his birthday, Baz had just regained his humanity after years of being stuck as a swan.

“Three years,” Simon growled. “You were stuck as a swan for three fucking years.”

Baz looked at him with that familiar sad smile. “So it seems.”

Simon turned to face Baz, looking determined as possible. “But it won’t happen again. I’m going to break your curse, Baz. You’re never going to be stuck or trapped and you can go to as many parties you want. I promise, okay?”

Baz was trying his best to look blank, but Simon saw the way his bottom lip quivered. “It’s fine, Simon. It was years ago.”

“Stop.” Baz’s brow pulled together. Simon scooted closer. He put a hand over his Baz’s, and Baz didn’t flinch at all. “Stop pretending you’re alright. It was horrific, what you’re going through is horrific. So it’s...it’s okay that you’re not. Whatever you’re feeling is okay.”

Baz’s mouth fell open slightly. His eyes were impossibly wide. He looked down at Simon’s hand over his. He flipped his over, weaving their fingers together. Baz’s calluses pressed into Simon’s skin. It felt so good.

“You’re right. I’m not okay,” he said quietly, voice breaking a bit. Simon knew how hard it was for him to say it. “But, I’m better when you’re around.”

Simon’s breath was suddenly short, like it had been a lot tonight. Baz looked up again, but his eyes weren’t on Simon’s. Rather, they were focused on the lower part of his face, specifically his mouth. Simon’s cheeks were on fire now. Was Baz thinking about...that? Could he really want that? Could Simon? He’d never thought about it before with Baz. It had never even been a distant possibility in his mind. But now, Baz was clutching Simon's hand, looking at his lips, and was leaning forward. And Simon found himself leaning forward as well.

They got closer and closer. Simon’s eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of their linked fingers, how his skin felt like it was on fire everywhere Baz touched him. Baz’s soft breath on his skin. He smelled of sugar and spirits. Simon leaned in even more. This was impulsive, stupid, potentially friendship ruining. But Simon was still riding the high of the night a bit, his self control even more lax than usual. And by the Gods, he wanted this. He never knew he could want something so suddenly yet so badly. One more inch, and he would know exactly what Baz’s mouth felt like on his.

“Simon,” Baz whispered, and Simon almost shuddered.

“Baz,” he replied. He tried to close the distance, but Baz’s face had moved. Simon nearly fell face first onto the ground, just catching himself with his free hand. What the fuck? Why had Baz moved?

“Simon, the sun. The sun is coming up.”

Simon’s eyes flew open and his blood ran cold. He whipped his head around. The sky was purple and red, and seemed to soon be orange with. The sun wasn’t over the horizon just yet, but it soon would be very soon. Simon turned back to Baz, whose face was some mix between shock, horror, and bone deep fear.

“We have to go right now,” Baz said.

Simon nodded rapidly. Baz stood up, still gripping Simon’s hand, and Simon followed.

They ran through the last of the celebrations in town. Bumping into stragglers, nearly tripping over passed out people in the street. But they didn’t stop. No matter how much their feet hurt or lungs ached. The boys kept running through the buildings, through the fields, until they came to the dark woods of the Forbidden Lands. A soft glow surrounded Baz’s body, and as the sky got brighter, so did the glow. Baz threw back his scarf and mask. Simon caught them. He let go of Simon’s hand and frantically began undo his coat. Simon caught that too. He couldn’t see Baz’s face, but he could only imagine how scared he was.

Baz threw off his shirt just as they reached the edge of the hidden lake. And when the sun broke the horizon, his arms transformed into his large black feathered wings. They fanned out so wide they blocked out the sun. Simon gasped and froze in place. Baz looked like a terrifying, beautiful dark angel. He turned his head slightly. The pain in his eyes was very apparent. Simon couldn’t tell if the pain was emotional, physical, or some horrific mix of both. No matter what, it was terrible to see him like this. Baz looked away as he fell forward into the invisible lake.

Simon was frozen a long while. It took some time to collect himself. But slowly, he walked forward, picked up Baz’s shirt, and stepped into past the glamour as well. He did his best to float himself down, only stumbling slightly as he hit the ground. Baz’s trousers and boots lay in a mess on the ground. Simon threw them over his arms. When he looked up, there was Baz, floating in the lake alone, long neck lowered and face hidden by a single black wing. Simon’s heart broke.

He carefully put Baz’s costume in front of his cottage. Baz could do what he wanted with it. Simon hoped he’d keep it, because he wanted Baz to remember the good parts of the night, no matter how it ended. No matter what they missed out on. Simon picked up the cloak he left behind, and threw one last look over to Baz. Simon was still pretty sure Baz didn’t like to be acknowledged in his bird form, but the words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“I had a really good night, Baz,” he said. “I-I hope you did too. Thank you for it. I’ll be back really soon, okay?”

Baz couldn’t answer, of course. But he lifted his head out from behind his wing slightly, just enough to show one grey eye. That was answer enough. Simon nodded. He floated back out of the lake, but a part of himself was absolutely left behind.

———————————————

AN: Ah yes, my fave trope, the almost kiss that gets interrupted. And this was all fun until the very end, because I like to end with angst. Hope y'all liked it and the art. Next chapter will be posted on Thursday. See you guys then! :D

#snowbaz #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #fluff #angst #fantasy au #the black swan #mysnowbazfic

12 notes · View notes