it can't be a mistake if i just call it change

Up in the tower, it was peacefully quiet, unlike the rest of the castle. Students weren’t really supposed to be up here after curfew, but Baz had never been a stickler for the rules and he had never once abided by curfew voluntarily – he did need to leave the room every once in a while to hunt, and he couldn’t very well do that during the day. And sometimes, like today, he needed to leave the room because it simply felt too stifling, especially now that he had to share it with three people. The explosiveness of his meeting with JR and Victor had given way to something a little less hostile, but Baz took forever to actually warm up to someone (ask Liam) so a residual level of discomfort remained, at least so far as Baz was concerned. So when he hadn’t been able to sleep, he had slipped on his shoes and a sweater and had left the room, feet carrying him to the tower automatically. It was where he always went whenever he needed a quiet place to think.

It was a cold night, but Baz had left his coat in his room when he had left it about half an hour ago, so he sat on the floor of the top of the tower, legs dangling over the edge. This high, the wind was actually biting, but Baz paid it no mind; it wasn’t as if he could get sick from it, after all, and the cold actually helped him concentrate. There were a lot of things he had to consider, now he had the time and peace of mind to do so; his new roommate situation, for one. They had lapsed into somewhat of a routine, by now, but Baz’s body remembered only sharing the space with Liam and he found himself startled still whenever he walked into the washing room in the morning and find Victor or JR brushing their teeth over the sink. He wasn’t sure if it showed; he didn’t think it did, or perhaps Victor and JR had simply chosen not to comment on it. He thought Liam must have noticed, or ought to have, anyway, since he knew Baz so well after years of sharing a room, but he couldn’t be sure of that, either. He and Liam didn’t really talk about things, after all.

There were some things they should talk about, Baz thought. Out here, in the dark, he allowed himself to think of them, of the things he usually kept firmly locked away during the day. He thought of the last time he had ended up spending a night in Liam’s bed (always Liam’s, somehow, never Baz’s) and, mostly, of how long ago it had been. He wasn’t sure why he felt restless at the realisation that it had been longer than he could remember, but he knew with nauseating certainty that it had been feeding his frustration of the past few weeks. The simple truth of the matter was that he felt comfortable around Liam in a way he didn’t feel with anyone else, not even Fiona, and that their room had been a sanctuary in itself where he could be his flawed self and not give a fuck about it. Liam had been the only one around and he didn’t judge Baz (he never did, even when Baz crawled into his bed and pressed against him in a clear demand) but now, Victor and JR were there, and Baz still hadn’t figured out how they all fit into the same space, yet.

And with JR and Victor on the other end of the room, it hadn’t felt right to cross the space in between his bed and Liam’s. Even though he had wanted to. Perhaps that was what confused Baz the most – every other time he had shared Liam’s bed, it had simply happened. He hadn’t thought about it – hadn’t had much opportunity to think about it – but simply hadn’t stopped himself. Now, when the opportunity to simply slip in between Liam’s sheets had vanished because of their new roommates, he actually found himself wanting it. On sleepless nights such as this one, Baz imagined he could almost remember what Liam’s skin tasted like under his lips, the way his hands had felt on Baz’s body. Almost, but not quite; the memories were always just out of reach. Baz had never pined for anything before, but he knew this was what it must feel like, this lurch in his stomach as he lay awake and contemplated simply tiptoeing over to Liam’s bed and stifle his sounds in Liam’s pillow so JR and Victor wouldn’t hear. This was what it must feel like, and Baz felt pathetic because of it.

With a sigh, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the wrought-iron bars that made up the railing of the tower, so no one would plummet all the way down if they strayed too close to the edge. He watched as the wind picked up some stray leaves and blew them several metres away. Then, suddenly, there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind him, and Baz turned his head to the side so he could look at the intruder from the corner of his eye. He relaxed visibly as he recognised Liam’s shoes. “This isn’t your usual day for a midnight walk,” he greeted without much enthusiasm. He had never let on that he knew Liam snuck out of their room every once in a while; it simply hadn’t seemed like it was worth the trouble, not when he didn’t know what Liam actually did when he snuck out. But he was tired and listless and not in the mood for games, so the comment slipped out before he could stop himself, and once the words were out, it was useless to try and take them back. Instead, Baz dropped his arms over one of the bars and turned back his head, so he could stare at the expanse of the castle beneath him.

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