#nonbinary baz

Congrats on hanging up the flag! I may have gone over the top on this one in terms of sheer fluffiness but here u go;) thanks for the ask!!

Sorry for the delay with this one, Nonnie. I actually wrote it when I first received your prompt, but I forgot to post it. I hope you like it! <3

*

Baz

Simon is rambling on about his day - an assignment he’s struggling with and some drama he overheard at the bakery - but I’m struggling to pay attention.

He’s a lot happier and enthusiastic than he was for the first couple of years after we left Watford, and I’m happy for him. He has really come into his unknown and found happiness despite all the shit life has thrown at him. I’m proud of him.

Right now, though, all I can think about is something I’ve been wanting to tell him for a few months now. I’m nonbinary, and I don’t know how to tell him.

I’ve looked it up about a thousand times now - how to tell your loved ones you’re nonbinary - but none of it seemed all that useful to me. I tried writing down what I wanted to say to Simon, but the words wouldn’t come. And it’s not like I need to explain to him what it means to be non-binary — he learned that from Shep — but it’s one thing to accept others as non-binary; it’s a whole other thing to accept someone you’ve know most of your life as one thing as something completely different.

I’m afraid that he’ll look at me differently once I tell him, like I’m not the same person he fell in love with.

Simon is still talking, and I take in a deep shaky breath as I look down at my hands, at the pink nail polish that adorns my nails.

Simon has been nothing but complimentary about my nails or the way I occasionally throw on a top that isn’t normally perceived as masculine. But appearance isn’t the same thing as identity. Just because he likes the way I look, it doesn’t mean he’ll like who I am.

“Simon, I need to tell you something,” I blurt out in the middle of the story he was telling me.

“Is everything okay?” He asks, looking a little worried.

“Yes. I just...It’s pride month.”

“I know. We’ve been selling our pride pastries like crazy this month, and people seem to have suddenly begun to notice the gay flag that I have worn every day to work for the past year.”

I nod and take another deep breath, struggling to take in enough air. I feel tears burning at the backs of my eyes. They always come with this sense of panic, but I refuse to let them spill at this moment. I have to say this.

“Simon.” I pause, clenching my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “I’m non-binary.”

I can barely breathe as I wait for his response even though it comes a moment later.

“Oh,” his tone is neutral, and I think I might combust into flames right here if he doesn’t say something soon. He reaches out to squeeze my hand, and I draw my eyes up to meet his. The look on his face is so soft that it takes my breath away. “I’m glad you told me.”

“You don’t seem surprised. It doesn’t bother you?”

He shrugs, ever the one for words. “You’re still you. You’re still the person I fell in love. Now I just know a little more about who you are.” He pauses briefly before adding, “I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”

The tears do start to fall then.

Simon is saying the most perfect things, and it’s then that I realize I’m going to marry this guy one day. I could never find someone else as caring and stubborn and perfect as him. He’s it for me. He’s my person, and I’ll never feel this way about anyone else.

I can feel a stupid smile growing on my face, and I lean forward to kiss Simon

I won’t ask him to marry me today, but someday. Perhaps one day soon.

“I love you,” I say, pulling out of the kiss.

"Baz’s sunglasses are as big as his head. And that scarf...I’ll be damned if he doesn’t look half glamorous. Like a boy Marilyn Monroe...”