Beckett let his mind wander a bit as he ate. He wasn't sure what he would do after dinner - probably rewatch some sitcom for a bit, then head to bed. Had Simon seen the shows he watched? He rewatched Parks and Rec quite a bit, so he had to have seen at least one or two episodes of that.
Simon got up and went to the living room, sticking his hand through the couch and pulling it back out in boredom.
Beckett watched, still fascinated by that. He finished his ravioli, then spoke. "How does that feel? Sticking, uh, part of you through something?"
Simon laughed. "I dunno. It's hard to explain. It's just a thing. Like, one day, I woke up and I wondered if I could do it. Turns out I could. It feels normal. Like walking. When you learn how to do it, it feels weird not to do it."
Beckett hummed softly, processing. He put his plate in the sink, rinsed it for a moment, then set it in the dishwasher. "Does it take effort? Like if you do it for too long, do you get tired?"
"Not really tired. . . I just can't do it anymore. It doesn't take a lot of effort unless I do it with my whole body. I can only do that for a few seconds."
"Hm. cool." He made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch. He was halfway through the book he was currently reading, so he planned to read for a while with Parks and Rec playing in the background. It was his go-to show, after all.
“I don’t know about cool. I’d rather move on and be able to go. . . wherever it is than be stuck here.”
Beckett's eyes widened. "I-I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry! It- uh, it really sucks that you're stuck here…"
Simon grinned. “Don’t feel bad. We’ve just met after all. I don’t know what’s. . . beyond, if you will, and to be honest, I’m sort of scared.”
Beckett gave a sheepish smile, tucking his legs underneath him as he turned his gaze back to his book. "Mm. I- I get that. It's a scary concept. Maybe… maybe this is it?"
“Then you’d be able to see thousands more ghosts. Or whatever I am,” Simon pointed out. “There has to be somewhere they go, even if they just fade away.”
"Ah, right." He hummed softly in agreement. "Do…" Beckett was careful with the way he was phrasing his sentence, pausing to think for a second. "Do you wish you had gotten to… whatever comes after?"
“I don’t think I deserve it,” he said, avoiding the question. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m sort of a bitch.”
He cocked his head to the side, looking back up at Simon. "You aren't." Genuine confusion showed on Beckett's face. Sure Simon was candid and a bit rash, but not in a bad way. It was kind of endearing.
“You don’t know that,” he said wryly. “You didn’t know me alive, so you don’t get an opinion.”
"Well… People can change. I'm getting to know you now, right?" There was a hopeful gleam in Beckett's eyes, and he gave a soft smile.
“I suppose,” he sighed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
"H-huh? Like what?" He flicked his gaze away for a moment before turning to look back at Simon.
“Like you. . . I don’t know. I don’t know. Never mind.”
"Uh, a-alright…" Beckett hastily turned back to his book, not even sure what he was trying to hide. The TV grew silent for a moment before the noise returned. It must have started a new episode.
“What show is this?” he said, mostly just to fill up the silence.
"Parks and Rec! I've seen it a bunch of times." He smiled widely, turning his attention back to the show.
Simon’s lips turned upward. “What’s it about?”
"Oh, I assumed you already knew about it! The main character is trying to improve her town, but the town itself is kinda crappy. The show revolves around the characters in the Department of Parks and Recreation in their town and their lives in the weird political scene around them. I could probably rant about it for hours." He absolutely would've kept rambling on had he not looked back over and processed that Simon was still listening to him.
“I don’t sit with you and watch it,” Simon said after Beckett explained the show. “I like music more than TV.”
"Well I mean, it's a pretty popular show too." He smiled sheepishly. "Do… do you want to sit?" Beckett patted the couch cushion next to him invitingly.
“Since you asked so politely,” Simon said jokingly, but sat next to him, sitting crisscross applesauce.
Beckett adjusted his glasses with a soft smile. He slipped a bookmark into his book and set it on the the coffee table in front of him, focusing his attention on the TV.
He watched Beckett silently, trying to recall whst it was like to be a person.
