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"What do you mean, ideas?" Beckett was getting more lost and confused by the second, but he still wanted to know whatever was going through Simon's head.
"What do you mean, ideas?" Beckett was getting more lost and confused by the second, but he still wanted to know whatever was going through Simon's head.
"Like. Being alive. That's an idea, not a thing. Happiness is an idea. Wisdom is an idea." He tipped his head slightly. "You aren't a thing either."
Beckett nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "…Are those the things you want, or were those just examples?"
"What do you think?" Simon watched Beckett, who seemed fascinated by him.
"I-I don't know what I think." Treading carefully, he continued. "I think that most of those seem like something you'd want. But I don't know."
"You would be right to think that," Simon said, just as carefully.
"Okay. Okay…" He paused, thinking for a moment. He was making progress, more than he'd expected at least. "So that-that was- those weren't just an example?" He cringed slightly at himself, knowing he could've phrased that better.
"No. It wasn't an example." He shifted slightly. "Why?'
Beckett hesitated. Would Simon retreat back into his shell if he mentioned it? Probably. Playing it safe, he shrugged. "I dunno. Curiosity." He chuckled, though it came off a bit forced.
"I don't really believe that." Simon folded his hands.
Beckett just shrugged. He'd never been a great lier, and he'd had a feeling that Simon was know he was fibbing before he'd even opened his mouth. He kept up the act anyway, vaguely hoping that it would work.
"So what are you going to do with that information?" Simon asked mildly.
Okay, now it felt like Simon was chasing the answer that Beckett had wanted to give. Screw it. "I was on the list," he observed, voice surprisingly steady.
"Yes?" Simon said. "And?" He watched him, a slight smile on his face.
"What, er. What does that mean, exactly?" Damn, there it was. The small, nervous shake in his voice was back now, and he looked back to the stairs as he tried not to acknowledge it.
"What do you think it means?" Simon said quietly. "You're pretty smart, aren't you."
Beckett laughed softly. "Yeah." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt for a moment. "…What's stopping you?" He spoke softer than before, both in tone and volume.
“I don’t know. What are you going to do about it?” Simon said, leaning forward slightly toward Beckett.
Beckett had to look almost straight up to make eye contact with Simon because of the way they were sitting- it was almost comical. "I didn't realize you wanted me to do something about it."
“Hmm,” is all Simon said, gazing down at Beckett, his hair falling in his eyes.
Beckett sat up on his knees, nervous as all hell. Was he interpreting this wrong? Was this a bad idea? Probably. That didn't stop him from slowly reaching for Simon's hand, careful to make sure he had enough time to pull away if he wanted.
Simon didn’t move a muscle, watching Beckett and holding his breath. This was making him jittery, but he did his best to quell his shaking.
Beckett was somewhat surprised that Simon had allowed him to take his hand, though he tried not to show it. He ran his thumb over cool skin for a moment before lifting Simon's hand to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to the back of it. "You want me?" He murmured.
Simon’s hand burned where Beckett had kissed him and he made a noise in his throat. “Are you just going to mess with me?” he said, his voice husky.
He shook his head, looking up at Simon with hopeful eyes. He really had no idea where this might go or how good of an idea it was, but he wanted to find out.
Simon carefully pressed his lips to Beckett’s then pulled away. He wanted to kiss him again but he didn’t, waiting for Beckett’s reaction.
Beckett's eyes widened for a split second before he looked down and twined their fingers together, looking back up at Simon with a gentle smile. He leaned up and gently connected their lips again.
Simon grabbed Beckett’s collar and pulled him closer. He had forgotten what it was like to touch another person. He felt real again, adrenaline (was it still called that if you were a ghost?) shot through his body, and without meaning to, he bit Beckett’s lip. Subconsciously he realized he’d probably hurt Beckett. He let go of Beckett’s shirt and moved away. “Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
Beckett laughed breathlessly, climbing up onto the couch instead of just sitting in the floor. He'd found it more amusing than anything since it hadn't hurt too much. It was already reduced to just a soft sting. "It's okay," he reassured with a grin, reaching his hand up to make sure it wasn't bleeding and then displaying his clean fingers to Simon. "See? All good." He felt like he was floating- it'd been so long since he'd been romantically involved with someone, just now realizing how much he'd missed it.
Simon grabbed Beckett’s hand and pushed it down to his side. “I won’t do it again,” he said seriously, locking eyes with the other boy.
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