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Being able to hold Conor like this was the best feeling in the world. It helped remind Simon that there were better people in the world. If he could, he'd stay with Conor forever. He hated going back home to his always-busy father and abusive step-mother. He felt bad for Gale, having to endure all of her screams and hits. That woman was the reason for Gale's behavior and Simon knew it. He only wished he could help.
"Simon, we have to come up with some new lyrics," mumbled the worn-out Conor.
Simon nuzzled his nose into Conor's neck, beaming brightly. "Do you not like the ones I came up with?" He teased, "I thought you said I was the best at creating lyrics! You liar!"
Conor shifted in the blond boy's arms to face him. He looked fully awake now, lips turned down into a frown as he averted his eyes. "I tried to get them back, but Pete had already torn and flushed them down the toilet. I mean, unless you remember what you wrote down, then we could just write it all over again."
Simon's smile immediately dropped, his brows furrowed together in anger. "Pete did, what?"
Conor looked up at Simon for a brief second before leaning his head into his chest. "It was my fault. If I would have just been paying attention-"
"It's not your fault, Conor," Simon interrupted with a rigid tone. Conor only shook his head in disagreement, which aggravated Simon. Simon hated when Conor put himself down like this. It was always either because he was Asian or homosexual. It hurt Simon to know how much Conor was suffering because of what he couldn't help, because of how he was born.
"No, Simon. It is my fault, and I admit that. I wasn't paying attention and was too careless of my surroundings. I should have never let my guard down, that was my biggest mistake. Especially when I knew Pete was following me around. I just..."
Simon placed his hand on Conor's warm cheek, sliding his fingers down under his chin and forcing him to look up. "It wasn't your fault, Conor. I'm not saying it again. You know Pete would have found a way to take it. He would have fought you for them, and you know it. He's a racist, homophobic jerk, it's what he does. And there's no stopping him."
"You believe me, right?" Simon, without warning, leaned in to peck Conor's lips. "I'd never lie to you. I like you too much to ever deceive you." Conor's cheeks redden at the small confession.
Conor mumbled, "Okay..."
Simon grinned even brighter than before. "I'm going to kiss you in three seconds. If you don't want me to, then turn away. You have to kiss back if you don't pull away!" Simon began counting, "One... two..."
Before he could get to three, Conor had already pressed his lips to the Simon's, a bit too roughly.
"I like you, too."