"Is there a good reason you don't like that nickname? Because if you have a good reason then I'll stop." Beckett hopped up on the counter, able to almost look down at Simon when he sat up very straight. "What would I even get arrested for?"
"I just don't like it. It's. . . Oh, whatever. I don't know what you'd get arrested for." He leaned forward and kissed Beckett's neck. "I want to bite you. I'm not going to. But I want to."
Beckett's breath hitched slightly. Once he'd overcome the flustered shock at the sudden change of topic, he found it somewhat amusing how Simon had completely shut down the discussion at hand to instead talk about how he wanted to bite him. "I-I mean, you can. If you want to. I want- er, I mean, I wouldn't mind." Was that a weird thing to kind of want? No, probably not. He wasn't going to admit that he thought that would be nice, though.
Simon took Beckett's hand and lifted it up, then gently bit the tip of his index finger. "You just look like you would taste good. I don't know how to describe it. I think there's a word for it. Oh! Cute aggression."
Beckett recalled the term from some obscure article he'd read a while back. He'd never expected that to be applied to him, though. He opened his mouth to say something, but had a feeling that he'd just stumble over his words even worse than before, so he decided against it. He just watched in flustered silence, sure he was turning beet red at this point.
"What?" Simon said. "You're all red." He took a step backward, dropping Beckett's hand. "I'm sorry- Do- Should I stop?"
His eyes widened. "Er-" How in the world did he explain what was going through his mind? After another moment of sitting frozen and staring at Simon, Beckett buried his face in his hands and made an embarrassed noise in the back of his throat.
"Um. Are you okay, at least? You should have told me to stop, Beckett. I don't want to hurt you," Simon said, pulling Beckett's hands away from his face gently.
Beckett nodded quickly. Was he okay? Not completely. But in the way that Simon was referring to, he was absolutely fine. "Yeah. I'm fine. Yeah. I just… hh." Unable to fully express how he felt in words, he instead made a shaky, throaty noise.
"I don't know how to interpret that," Simon said, glancing away for a moment. "Look, you don't have to tell me what's happening, but I'd like to know."
Beckett took a moment to gather his thoughts before trying to vocalize them in a hopefully coherent sentence. "I, uh. You- you just put my fingers in your mouth."
"Was that bad? I'm sorry. You probably weren't expecting it. I'm sorry," Simon said, reaching out to touch Beckett. Then, for a reason he couldn't place, he dropped his hand.
"No, no, that's not what I meant." Beckett sucked in a deep breath. He was finally somewhat grounded, though, so that was a pro. "It's just- That's typically, um. Y'know." He glanced away, fiddling with anything within reach.
"In this particular circumstance, I do not, in fact, know," Simon said in his usual sarcastic tone. "Take a minute, love, and think about what you're going to say, then say it, alright?" he said in a softer tone.
Beckett blinked a few times in surprise. Love. He nodded in response, looking back down at his lap. He took a moment. "That's …typically a suggestive, um. Y'know, intimate thing to do. It's reasonable for me to get all… eugh."
"I- " He blinked. "I didn't mean it in that way. I'm sorry. I should have thought about it." He folded his hands in front of him. "Was it. . . was it, like, a bad thing?"
Beckett shook his head after a moment. "No, not really. I-I was just surprised I guess?" He chuckled softly. "It- everything is more than okay, I promise."
Simon closed his eyes. “I just don’t want to overstep your boundaries. Sorry.” He shook his head. “I don’t like seeing you uncomfortable.”
Beckett pulled a face, lightly kicking Simon's thigh. Exasperated, all traces of anxiety over explaining faded. "I'd tell you if I was uncomfortable. You weren't overstepping, I was just embarrassed because out of nowhere, you did something that was very attractive. I'm only human, Si. A hot guy bites me, I'm going to get nervous."
Simon blinked, a grin spreading across his face. “You think I’m hot,” he said, amusement tinging his voice. “Thank you.”
Beckett thought back on his exact words, realizing that he had in fact called Simon hot. And as soon as the flush on his skin had faded, it was back, along with a sheepish smile, a shrug, and an avoidance of eye contact.
“Was it an accident?” Simon asked. “I mean, I don’t care,” he added quickly.
"I-I mean-" He hadn't necessarily meant to call Simon hot, but he definitely was. "It… wasn't really an accident," Beckett finally replied.
“Huh. Alright.” Simon nodded. “I think you’re hot too,” he said. “Just so you know.”
Beckett looked down at his lap. He'd never thought of himself as hot, and he half wondered if Simon was only saying it because he felt obligated to. "T-thanks," he mumbled, smile audible in his tone.
“You’re extremely welcome, Beck.” He watched Beckett, a slight smile on his face.”
He looked up, skin flushed and eyes wide, unsure if he'd just missed the last part of his name or if Simon, supreme angst lord, had just given him a cute nickname.
“What?” Simon said. “Look, if you’re going to nickname me, I get to nickname you back.”
Beckett nodded quickly, effectively shaking himself out of his stupor. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I just didn't expect it." He grinned. "It's cute."
Simon frowned. “I am not cute,” he said angrily. “I am not cute,” he repeated.
