He blinked a few times, wondering vaguely how Simon could tell almost exactly what he was feeling without fail. "Wha- no, I'm fine! I'm not squirming at all."
"Yes, you are. You're literally in the circle of my arms. I can feel when you move, dipshit."
"I- well- fine, but I'm not uncomfortable or anything. I'd say something if I was. Or… move, or something. Quit worrying so much." He spoke with a certain sense of affection to his words, somewhat amused by Simon's concern for him.
"It is my job to worry. I am your protector," Simon said grandly. "You can't stop me."
Beckett couldn't help but smile at that. "My protector, huh? That's pretty cheesy." Not that he minded, obviously, but it was fun to point out and poke fun at Simon for it.
"Is it? When you need protecting, you'll be singing a different tune, my dear." Simon raised an eyebrow.
Beckett, while silently cooing at the affectionate nickname, rolled his eyes. "I appreciate the sentiment, but what would you be protecting me from, exactly?"
"Anything and everything, honey," Simon said mildly. "I will bark at them and chew up their ankles."
"How ferocious of you," Beckett chuckled. He opened his lips to speak again, but stopped and decided against it. "My own personal guard-boyfriend."
"Indeed. You're lucky to have me." He nuzzled against Beckett's neck.
"That I am." Beckett welcomed the contact, pressing a soft, somewhat less hesitant kiss to the top of Simon's head.
Simon made a soft growling sound and nipped at Beckett’s neck. “What would you do without me?”
Beckett chuckled softly, immediately tilting his head to the side and giving Simon more room. “Who knows,” he responded, voice quieter and cheeks flushing a light red once again.
"I expect you'd be quite sad," Simon said, pressing kisses along Beckett's jaw.
His hands settled around Simon’s shoulders, humming softly and leaning into every touch. “I- I don’t doubt that I would be,” he sighed happily.
Simon set his hands on Beckett's waist. "Well, now you don't have to be sad," he said, trailing his fingers lightly across Beckett's stomach.
“I mean, I wasn’t that sad,” Beckett observed with a small smile. “But yes, this is much nicer than before.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, focusing on the movement of Simon’s fingers over his abdomen. It was nice, for lack of a better word- something he’d hardly ever experienced, but read about countless times. He was certainly not disappointed with the real thing.
“I’m sure you’re just downplaying your misery for my benefit,” Simon said, putting his forehead against Beckett’s.
“Mm, nah. I was okay on my own.” He met Simon’s gaze with a soft, sheepish smile. “This is nicer, though, I’ll give you that.”
Simon tilted his head, considering. “I’ll take that,” Simon said and kissed Beckett lightly.
Beckett chuckled, gladly returning the kiss. Remaining pressed against Simon, he reached one arm back and grabbed the soft blanket draped over the back- the autumn chill was beginning to get to him.
"Am I making you cold?" Simon asked concernedly. "I can move."
"What?" Beckett spoke as if the very question was ridiculous. "No, don't move. This is… nice."
"You said earlier that I was cold. I don't want you to be cold." Simon shifted slightly.
"No, I-" Beckett huffed softly, making a point of tightening his grip on Simon's hand. "Don't move, this is nice. You're not cold, you're- you're a little bit chilly, but it's nice. I'm just getting comfy. So don't go anywhere."
"Bossy, are we?" Simon said amusedly. "I won't move, don't worry, kitten."
Beckett began to respond, but after properly processing Simon’s words he froze. With a half dopey grin, he mumbled under his breath and shoved his face back in Simon’s chest, face flushed bright red.
"What? Am I making you flustered?" Simon said in a teasing tone. "If it's that easy to get you all blushy and cute, I'll call you kitten all the time."
Beckett groaned half-heartedly. He didn't quite mind the nickname, though it made his face burn. In the best, most pleasant way, admittedly. "Very ironic that you're calling me kitten," he mumbled after a moment.
“If you’re going to view me as a cat, it certainly isn’t going to be a kitten. I should hope its a strong, strapping tom. You know, to protect you.”
