Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Baz

It’s been two days and I cannot stop thinking about Simon Snow. I’m helping Daphne set up for the garden party, Swithin strapped to me in a lilac sling. It matches my shirt (lilac with flowers embroidered up from the hem) and he’s fast asleep, dribbling on me. We hold several of these parties each summer, all for different groups. There’s one for the Grimms and Pitches, one for all of our Old Family friends and one for all of the kid’s friends and families. Today’s the Grimm-Pitch, and Dev’s bringing Niall because at this point, they are a package deal. Apparently they’ve got a couple of blunts and Mordelia has promised not to drink so she can take care of the kids. Which means that I don’t. Which means that for the first time, I’m excited for one of Daphne’s parties.

I’m setting out the pitchers of iced tea, full of ice and fruit and mint. Daphne and I sampled them all and I was surprised by how much I liked them. Even the cherry flavour was good and I don’t actually like cherry. Apparently we must get more for next time and I definitely don’t think about the fact I might be able to see him again.

Dev and Niall steal me away as soon as everyone’s busy talking to one another and I’m no longer responsible for any children and we head down to the woods behind the house. There’s a spot we’ve been going for years (i believe we were 8 when we found it) - a clearing next to the stream that runs through the valley.

At the foot of a very climbable tree (one we’ve scaled many times… and Dev definitely didn’t break his wrist falling out of) is a stone fire pit. We built it when we were 12, spent the day hunting for stones big enough and spent the evening sitting around the flames, laughing and joking and just enjoying each other’s presence.

It’s become one of our favourite traditions. Every summer we come down here, we bring food and alcohol and a couple of blunts and when it’s hot enough to swim, towels, and we just spend time together. It’s rarely actually warm enough, but that never stops Deb and Niall stripping down to their boxers and throwing themselves into the shallow water. It’s rare that they actually get me in, but sometimes I let them persuade me, and the shock of the cold reminds me why I tend to avoid it.

We haven’t had a chance to come down here for more than an hour or two yet this summer, Dev’s been on holiday in France with his side of the family, Niall’s been working practically full time as a teaching assistant or something, and I’ve been my sibling’s unofficial third parent.

Dev flops ungracefully down onto the grass and Niall joins him, dragging me down so I’m wedged in between the two. Niall drape his legs over mine, and Dev slings an arm around my shoulders and I feel safe. I feel at home.

Niall pulls out a blunt and Dev produces a lighter before he can even ask, reaching across me to light it for him. They’re so in sync, they always have been.

I watch Niall blow smoke out of his nose, reaching lazily for the blunt as he takes another toke.

“So when did you two make it official?”

Niall freezes, glancing over at me with an expression so guilty that I can’t help myself but grin back at him.

“What - what are you talking about?” Dev asks from beside me and there’s a shake to his voice that I can’t help but sympathise with. He’s still not come out, not even to me, despite the fact I’ve known for the better part of a decade.

“You and Niall, you’re dating. When did you two get together?”

Niall and Dev share a look over my head, before I’m passed the blunt and Niall shrugs, but he’s smiling at the ground before him.

“Two months. Dev came to stay with me for a little bit and… things just developed from there. I’m sorry… we would have told you sooner but-“

But Dev. I know.

Our family would be less disappointed by him being queer than by me being gay, but if I don’t have the balls to come out then I’m not surprised he doesn’t…it’s scary. So much tradition and heritage that would be broken by something as simple as wanting to marry a man instead of a woman… I can’t blame him for not wanting our family to know. How could I? Not when we’re in the same boat.

That being said, I’m pretty sure everyone already knows. I mean, I’ve got long hair, I only wear florals if I’m wearing anything patterned, I take more care of my appearance than Daphne does… they’re all just waiting for me to say the words.

Except for Fiona.

She’s known since I was about 11. She’s the one person I’ve told about everything, about the boys I’ve liked and the ones I’ve kissed and she’s the one who takes me to pride every year.

She’s my biggest ally. And my biggest pain in my ass, but that’s another story.

“You don’t have to apologise.” I let the smoke fill my lungs as I lean back against the log behind us, letting my hair fall back from my face as I look up at the green canopy, lit by the soft golden warmth of summer afternoon sun.

“I’m really happy for you guys, I’ve been shipping this for like… years.”

Dev laughs, then steals the blunt from me and I can feel his immediate nervousness start to fade, reassured by the fact I’m not judging them (as if I could ever be. I meant it when I said I’ve been waiting for this.).

“What about you darling cousin?” He asks, turning to face me as he takes another toke.

“Any men in the field for you?”

I’m well aware my expression gives me away before I can say anything, judging by the way they both immediately laugh at me, and I do my best to glare.

“Shut up . I met a cute guy, but there’s nothing there. I’m probably not going to see him again, he was just a cashier at a shop.”

I’m drilled for information and after some reluctance, I tell them everything. We finish the blunt, then split another, and then it’s my turn to harass them and I ask about what relationship life is like.

By the end of it the sun has started to set and we’re all getting peckish so we venture back to the party, back to food and music and our families.

The fairy lights are all on, bathing the garden in a mix of warm golden light as the sun sinks behind the horizon and soft sparkly LED.

It’s a beautiful garden party, and I can tell Daphne’s proud of herself the way she’s surveying the party, sipping a glass of wine as she leans back against my father. They both look happy, and I’m happy too. I do miss my family when I’m at university and as dysfunctional as my relationship with my father might be, I do still love him. He’s my dad, after all.

It’s moments like these though that make me miss my mum, and I can tell Niall knows what I’m thinking as he comes to sit next to me, laden with plates of pilfered snacks.

Dev sits on the other side of me and yet again I’m sandwiched between my two closest friends, and it eases the tightness in my chest just a little. I love them, I really do.

They end up staying over, the three of us piling into my king size bed and binge watching the scream movies until we pass out. Niall’s the first to fall asleep, curled up in Dev’s arms as my cousin plays absently with his hair and I pretend I’m not watching out of the corner of my eye. They really are the cutest couple, they’re made for each other, they really are.

Baz

The next garden party is for all of the kid’s friends, so there’s supposed to be like 30 of them from ages 3-11 running around (Mordy insists she’s too old to invite anyone more than her best friend and I don’t have any friends other than Niall and Dev who’ve already decided we’re going clubbing in London instead.

I suggested we book a hotel, but they’ve somehow talked me into asking Fiona who’s begrudgingly agreed to us staying there. She’s never massively liked Dev but I’m her favourite and I’m pretty sure she’s sussed out the fact that they’re dating now and I think she feels bad for me still being single.

Not that I care.

I really don’t.

—————

Baz

Niall’s been staying with me the past few days while Dev goes to France with his parents and Daphne’s insisted he helps me take the kids out to run some errands because their nursery is closed for the day (apparently there was a fire in the kitchen which is a little terrifying) and it’s only a little bit of a nightmare. He is really good with kids, and the twins absolutely love him, but it’s so hot out and we’re both hungover and we’ve already filled the buggy with stuff and we’re not even half way through the ridiculous shopping list we’ve been given.

However Niall has forced us to take a break and get something cold to drink and I’m currently hiding away under the awning of the cafe, holding my lavender iced latte up to my forehead. I’ve unstrapped Swithin from me and deposited him into Niall’s arms and I’m just sort of airing myself out for the minute.

“Since when did England get so fucking hot in summer?”

I ask, then immediately glance guiltily over at the twins who aren’t paying me the slightest bit of attention. I’m always careful not to swear around them but sometimes the heat takes my filter from me.

“It’s ridiculous. My balls keep sticking to my thighs and I’m pretty sure my shirt is just all sweat now.” He grumbles, taking a long sip of his iced tea.

He’s insane for the fact he doesn’t drink coffee, I don’t know how I’d survive without my daily (over)dose of caffeine.

It’s all I can do to nod in agreement, wiping the condensation from my drink off of my forehead and taking a sip. It’s my favourite cafe around and there’s something about their homemade lavender syrup that I really cannot get enough of.

“I’m not sure what’s baby drool and what’s sweat at this point.” I say, glancing mournfully down at the damp patch on my chest. It’s probably both. I’m telling myself it’s both.

“So… how are things going with Dev?”

Niall’s cheeks turn pink and he smiles, a sheepish, genuine smile that wrinkles the corners of his eyes as he picks at his straw.

“Things are going really well honestly, like - better than I ever could have imagined.”

He glances up at me and I think it’s the most tender I’ve ever seen him look, he’s completely head over feels for my cousin and I love it.

“We’ve been texting like non stop since he went to France and it’s really good because I… I don’t know, I worry that he’s going to lose interest but he’s been… he’s been constantly reaching out with things he sees that reminds him of me and it feels really good.”

I take another sip of my drink, and I can’t stop myself from smiling back at him. Anyone else would be worried about being pushed out of our little group of three now that Niall and Dev are dating, but I know these two better than I know myself and I know we’ll never stop being friends. Besides, they’ve spent so long dancing around their feelings for one another that it’s a relief that they’re finally dating.

Besides, they’re the cutest couple. They just work together. They’ve been best friends for so long that the two of them dating is not massively different from how things were before. They just kiss now.

“Have you two…?” I raise an eyebrow at Niall and his cheeks burn even brighter pink and he nods.

“We have.”

“…and?”

“It’s good.”

I raise my eyebrow at him again and he groans, hiding himself behind his drink. He’s well aware that I’m not letting him get away without telling me more and he gives in almost immediately.

“Okay it’s really good. I… I did tell him I wouldn’t tell you…”

(he’s obviously dying to tell me)

“…but he’s the bottom.”

That doesn’t shock me, but I’m surprised that Dev’s discovered this so soon into the relationship. I was sure it would take him some time to embrace being queer and allowing himself to experiment. Clearly Niall’s been better at helping him it than I assumed.

“Fake news, Grimm-Pitch’s don’t bottom.” I exclaim in fake horror, and the look he gives me makes me burst out laughing, completely unable to keep up the pretence.

“You all fucking do.” He counters, leaning forwards on his elbows as he smirks at me.

He is right of course, but I do pride myself on being a switch.

Because I am.

…Definitely…

Unfortunately our glasses are soon empty and the twins are starting to get fussy so we progress onwards, and it’s just my luck that Whittards is the next on my list.

Shit.

My heart is racing as I walk into the shop. I’m a mess again, but I’ve done my best despite it all. My hair is pulled up into a bun, not something I normally do but Niall convinced me and it’s not as bad as I was expecting. I’m wearing a silk shirt, pale blue with light pink flowers creeping up the sleeves. It’s one of my favourites, even though I’ve got it buttoned up all the way with Swithin strapped against me. I’ve gone for a soft grey cloth sling today, slightly lighter and less sweaty but annoyingly less supportive which means I’ve constantly got my hand on his head. I know realistically it’s fine, but paranoia stops me from letting go. I’ve loaded the nappy bag onto Niall and he’s starting to look a little overloaded what with with the twins and also all of the shopping loaded into the buggy.

I catch his eye immediately and curse myself for it, and I’m suddenly very grateful that I don’t blush because I know that I’d be scarlet if I did.

Which he is.

What?

I glance back at him, and he’s offering me a tentative smile, his cheeks ruddy as he awkwardly waves a hand at me.

Oh.

Oh.

He remembers me.

All my words suddenly stick in my throat as Niall glances between me and the guy - Snow - I remind myself, and his eyes sparkle with realisation as he puts two and two together.

Simon

I notice him through the window before he even walks in, dark hair and expensive clothing and the baby strapped to his cheek and I realise I’ve gone bright red.

He’s so effortlessly beautiful even with shopping and a child and I feel frustratingly inadequate suddenly in my white shirt and slacks. They give us an apron and a name badge for uniform but I just feel like a mess compared to him. I know my hair is a nightmare (I’ve given up on trying to tame my curls, they always win) and I’m pretty sure I’ve spilt more coffee down my front than I’ve actually sold today.

Behind him is another guy, also gorgeous but he’s nothing compared to Basilton. (Baz? I can’t remember what he said to call him, but I do remember his ridiculous name).

He’s pushing a pram with two little girls who are obviously twins and I can see the resemblance immediately.

Is this his husband? His partner? He doesn’t look like any of the kids but he’s clearly comfortable with them.

He looks straight at me and I smile at him, but he looks away as if he didn’t notice me as I awkwardly raise my hand.

Fuck.

Fuck .

I can feel the red flush creep down my chest in pure humiliation because of course he doesn’t remember me. Why would he? Just because I’ve been the freak who can’t get him out of my head doesn’t mean that he’s been thinking of me too.

God I’m so fucking thick.

Except he’s looking at me again and our eyes meet and he -

He smiles.

And I feel like my heart explodes into millions of pieces.

Baz

He’s gone bright red, properly crimson and I can see all the way down below his collar and I am struck by the urge to see how far it goes.

Surely he’s not blushing because I’m here?

Surely…?

I’m not sure whether I should go up to him or not, but Swithin stirs in his carrier and I’m grateful for the opportunity to break eye contact.

He coos up at me and stroke his head, watching as he looks around the store.

“Shall we get some more tea for mummy?”

I ask him, glancing toward the wall filled with them. I decide on lychee and rose, as well as some sour cherry for Daphne.

I hear a commotion come from the other section of the shop that I instantly know is caused by my lot and I look round to see Niall trying to divert the twins from the hot chocolate.

He’s made the mistake of reminding the twins about their new favourite drink and they’ll be shouting about having one until bedtime, not to mention the fact that they’re currently trying to climb out of the pram to grab at it. He can deal with it for now.

Instead I turn to browse the coffee, particularly the hazelnut one I was eyeing when I came in last. It’s on sale so I grab a bag, as well as one of the normal dark roast my father likes. I think I’ve annoyed him this week so I’ll consider it a peace offering. I’m not sure what exactly I’ve done because he seems to always be irritated by me, but if it’ll stop him snapping then I’ll take it.

Simon

I’ve busied myself in carefully turning all of the coffee jars so they’re facing forwards, something completely meaningless and irrelevant but giving me a much needed opportunity to not look at him.

Unfortunately there’s only so long I can organise jars for and as I finish, he walks up to the counter.

“Just these please.”

As I reach out to take the boxes of tea, the baby - Swithin - blinks at me, grey eyes focusing on my face and I can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips.

“Hi Swithin, how have you been?”

I glance up at Baz, “and how have you been? Back for more I see.”

He smiles, and my heart does that ridiculous thing in my chest again as he strokes Swithin’s head.

“He’s been great, he’s now officially three months old, I’m sure he’ll be in school before I can blink.” Baz muses affectionately, his attention focused on the baby in his arms.

“And I’ve been great thank you, just constantly running errands for my step mother, she keeps hosting these massive garden parties and for some reason that means I do everything.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Of course these aren’t his kids.

He’s their brother. Or step brother. I’m not sure.

My face gives me away though because he’s raising an eyebrow at me and I can feel my cheeks turn red again with the way he’s looking at me.

It’s absolutely unfair that he can say a thousand words with just one brow.

I know he knows exactly what I’m thinking, but I still feel the need to defend myself, to try and explain my stupidity.

“I… I assumed that… Swithin was yours.”

I say awkwardly, looking between the two, and he laughs.

It’s just a dry chuckle, but it’s enough to make me feel a little weak at the knees. (Pull yourself together Simon, seriously.)

“No - no absolutely not. Don’t worry, I am far too gay to have children of my own.” He says quickly, “they’re all technically my step siblings but I prefer to just call them my siblings. I love them to bits but they are definitely not mine.”

I blink at him, my words failing me for a moment as I process what he’s just said to me.

I’m not surprised by the fact he’s gay, he’s far too pretty to only like women, but I am surprised by the fact he doesn’t like the term step siblings. I guess I wouldn’t know, having grown up as an orphan in foster homes, but it still surprises me. I can’t question it though, you learn pretty quickly not to ask people’s backstories when you grow up in care and I do not fancy opening old wounds here in a bloody Whittards.

Unfortunately for me, I am completely and utterly stupid. When I finally speak, I manage to stammer out, “So he’s not your husband?”

In reference to the other guy Baz has come in with, and promptly turn from pink to red as I realise what a ridiculous question that was.

Baz

My husband?? Niall??? God I cannot wait to tell Dev.

I stare at him for a moment, then laugh, glancing over at Niall who’s pretending not to be watching us out of the corner of his eye.

“My husband ? No - he’s my best friend. I’m single.” I explain, “he’s actually dating my cousin - not… that that’s relevant.” I add a little lamely.

Well done Baz. Really well done.

Way to impress the cute guy.

He’s clearly desperately uncomfortable now, and frankly so am I, but at least he has my shopping to scan as an excuse to break the tension.

“Is that all for you today?”

“Yes, thank you. I have my-“

“I already added the student discount.” He interrupts, the corner of his lips tugging into a crooked smile.

“UCL right?”

He remembered?

“Yeah, I’m a law student actually.”

His eyes widen in genuine surprise, and I find that I cannot get enough of the way he wears his emotions on his face. He’s so… open. I can see every thought he has in the way his expression twists.

It’s adorable.

“That’s sick!” His eyes are shining in genuine excitement at the prospect of my course as he says, “That’s so cool, I’ve got so much respect for people who go to university, I didn’t even apply. It’s a shame cause I would love to do something like criminology but… I’m way too thick to hack it.”

I feel my eyebrows furrow at his self depreciation and I’m irritated that he thinks so little of himself which is ridiculous because I don’t know anything about him.

“University is for everyone. You should go for it. There’s no reason not to try.”

He shrugs in response, his gaze dropping to the counter.

“Couldn’t afford it even if I wanted to.”

I take that as a clear a sign as any to drop the subject.

There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence before he pushes the card machine towards me.

He’s hesitating, clearly working up to say something and as the machine spits out my receipt he blurts: “It was nice to see you again.”

I do not know what possessed me in that moment, because Basilton Grimm-Pitch does not make the first move, and yet for some reason…

I do.

I take the receipt from him, and reach over to take the pen out of his breast pocket (a move I have literally never made in my entire life ) and I write my phone number on the back of the paper.

And I give it to him.

“It was nice to see you again too.”

Simon

He’s given me his phone number.

The gorgeous, ridiculously named man that I’ve spent the past week and a half unable to stop thinking about despite the fact that I am not gay … (Penny seems convinced otherwise… weirdly as does Agatha, my actual girlfriend)

… has given me his number.

And I am thrilled.

I’ve sort of frozen in place, the receipt clutched in my hand as he tucks my pen back into my breast pocket and for the third time since he walked in, I’ve gone red.

I actually need to get a grip because this is humiliating.

I stammer something, I have no idea what, and he’s gone, sauntering out with the other guy.

I’m a complete mess for the rest of my shift, dropping everything, stuttering over my words and just making a tit of myself to every single customer. I’m itching to text him, but I have no idea what to say and I’m not allowed to get my phone out on the floor so I have to wait until my shift is over. I’m actually counting down the seconds by the time I’ve closed up shop until I can lock up and leave, and as the clock hits 6, I’m gone.

I save his number into my phone before I can lose the receipt and ruin this forever, and try to figure out what I’m going to say and it takes the entire duration of my walk home before I eventually settle on something simple, something I can’t overthink any more than I already have.

hey its simon frm the shop :)

I put a second smiley face and immediately delete it, before sending the text, choosing to ignore how my heart suddenly seems to be trying to beat out of my chest.