But I know that I love you so

by dragonaf69

Summary:

Simon finds out his parents are going out of town and decides to take advantage of the opportunity.

Notes:

Okay, well... this was originally a quick little one-off, but i physically can't be normal about them so enjoy lol

 

also maybe one of these days I’ll pick a punk song but it’s not today lmfao

Chapter 1

Notes:

tw: drugs/alcohol

“Yeah, okay. I will. Okay, Mom. Yes, every day after work. Okay, alright, love you. Bye.”

Danny scrambled to hang up the phone, breathing out a deep sigh of relief and thanking god that that was all she wanted this time. Her tendency to trap Danny on the phone had only grown worse since Simon had moved in. It wasn't a shock to anyone that their parents weren't exactly thrilled with Danny's decision to let Simon stay with him, and he had come mentally prepared when he broke the news. He thought Simon would have been proud to know he stood his ground for once. And, by standing his ground, he meant letting them rain insults and call Danny an imbecile until they wore themselves out and settled on disapproving stares and passive-aggressive huffs. But Danny hadn't caved, and that had to count for something. 

As to be expected, their mom was the worst; was constantly trying to pry, to take note of any negative experience that had transpired over the past three-ish weeks. All she’d gotten out of Dan was that Simon could be a little messy and that he sometimes came home late. Dan was careful to never disclose what he considered “late" though, which was anywhere between 3-5 AM when he did come home, and usually not until 12-1 PM the following day if he did stay out. Although Dan was happy to find that Simon was content to stay home most nights out of the week—a massive improvement from what he recalled in their teen years.

Truthfully, living with his brother wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. Dan had actually enjoyed having a roommate, someone to play video games with or shoot the shit with when he was bored. Sure, Simon would get in a pissy mood every once in a while, but that wasn’t anything a joint couldn’t cure. Hadn't punched any holes in the walls which Dan considered a win. He made sure to keep all the shared spaces clean and cleared of his clutter. His bedroom might have been a different story, but Dan knew better than to nag. Besides, he knew who he was welcoming into his home. The guy was never particularly clean and was always a night owl. 

 

“What’d Mom want?” Simon asked, startling Dan as he cracked open a beer right behind him. Simon snorted and shook his head. He didn’t remember Dan being this jumpy when they were kids, but he wasn’t exactly all there at the time either. 

 

“Really? It’s only 3 PM,” Dan scoffed, gesturing to the tall boy. 

 

Simon cocked an eyebrow and looked his brother up and down. As if Dan could distract Simon from what he overheard. “Now’s as good a time as any,” Simon shrugged and made a point to take a long, audible swig of his beer, letting out a belch and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “They goin’ outta town?” 

 

Danny recognized that all too familiar look: a twinkle in his eye, a devious grin growing on his face, that staticky energy swirling in the air. All telltale signs of an incoming scheme that Dan wanted no part of frankly. Dan could count on one singular hand the number of times he was successful at talking Simon out of whatever sick plot he had concocted, but he had to at least try. 

“What? No,” Danny lied, quickly and poorly, internally groaning to himself. 

 

Simon let out a small chuckle, shifting on his feet to look at his brother head on. “Yeah, alright, Dan. So, what, you gonna be coincidentally makin’ a pit stop on your way home for the next week? Ten days?” 

 

God fucking dammit.

“Don’t even think about it,” Danny warned.

 

“Oh, I’m thinkin’ about it,” Simon laughed, slapping a palm on his brother's shoulder and jostling him a bit. 

 

“I’m not risking shit for you, dude. You know I got my ass chewed for months last time I gave you a key,” Danny tried again, doing his best to put on his I mean it face. By the way Simon grinned, it wasn’t effective. 

 

“No risk involved. I’d be gone before the first maid even thought about waking up. Park off the street and all that shit. I’ll cover our asses. Promise I won’t get us caught,” Simon argued, albeit calmly. Simon's newfound skill at articulating himself without raising his voice or turning everything into a pissing contest was still throwing Danny for a loop. Danny decided right then that he preferred the yelling; it had always given him the excuse to just walk away from the conversation. But now, he was stuck entertaining the guy. 

 

“Fuck, man. I don’t know,” Danny sighed and shook his head. It sounded like a logistical nightmare honestly. And even if he didn’t get caught in the moment, there was still the potential that Simon would leave something, break something, not clean up enough, whatever would trigger the maids to instantly ring their parents. Danny would have to come by early and check the basement to make sure it was passable. Bad enough he already had to stop there once a day for the next ten days; he really didn’t want to have to go by there twice. 

 

“Come on, Dan. You know I’m fuckin' dying to get Patty on that mic again,” Simon urged. He had been trying to think up ways for weeks to get her another recording, and, for fuck's sake, this shit was just far too easy. Basically fell into his lap, and he’d be a fucking idiot not to take the opportunity. Even if it meant coercing Dan. 

 

Danny sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you always have to make it about her?” he complained, and Simon did his best to suppress the smug look he wanted to don, knowing Dan was close to admitting defeat. Dan hated being the asshole when it came to shit like this, always was a people pleaser even when he was really little. Guess that was one way of dealing with their environment.

 

“Because, Danny-boy,” Simon paused to sip his beer and throw an arm around his brother's shoulder, pointing vaguely in the distance with his beer can, “it’s always about her.” He grinned widely and laughed at Dan’s annoyed expression. They both knew Simon wasn’t stretching the truth by any means.

Danny rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and met Simon’s gaze, choosing to ignore Simon’s mocking laughter. “What’s in it for me?” He had done Simon plenty of favors; it was time to reap some of the rewards of being such a good guy.

 

Simon narrowed his eyes and took another chug as he considered how to sweeten the pot. He was honestly proud of Dan for negotiating—kid never had it in him before. Threw him a bone to encourage it. “I’ll smoke you up for the next week if you let me have one night.”

 

“Deal,” Danny responded with absolutely zero hesitation. That was a damn good deal. He’d risk getting a bit of an ear chewing for that. Simon laughed hard before he finally released his grasp from his brother, patting his back fondly. “Thanks, Dan. I mean it.”

 

“And here I was thinking you’d be less of a menace with a girlfriend," Danny quipped. 

 

“I think you’re getting menace confused with being extremely motivated,” Simon countered, backing away slowly toward his bedroom.

 

“Lovestruck might be a better way to put it." 

 

That one made Simon pause for a beat, but not enough to deter him from fucking with Dan a bit more. “I’d offer to roll one now, but since ‘it’s only 3 pm’…,” Simon trailed off, a shit eating grin on his face. 

 

“No, no. That’s totally different,” Danny’s tone shifted, and Simon had to consciously bite back the cackle he wanted to unleash. 

 

“How the fuck is that any different?” Simon shouted from the bedroom as he snagged the bud from his backpack. 

 

“Because you can still be coherent after smoking,” Danny called back. 

 

“Bullshit, Dan. I watched you stare inside that fridge for 15 fucking minutes last night.”

 

“I couldn’t decide if I wanted the leftover casserole or if I wanted to heat up the pizza.” 

 

Simon returned to the living room, toting the weed and papers in hand. “And what did you end up eating again?” 

 

Danny paused. Then grumbled, “Cup ramen and a hot dog.”

 

“A fucking cold hot dog at that, you fucking animal,” Simon laughed.

 

"So?"

 

Simon didn't try to hide his look of annoyance mixed with disgust. “So, that’s not something a coherent person does, dipshit,” Simon retorted, brushing past his brother to get to the basement. He overheard vague grumbling coming from Dan that he chose to ignore. He knew that was Danny’s way of giving up, and Dan followed closely at Simon’s heels anyway. Fuckin' hypocrite.

 

They both clamored down the stairs and tossed themselves onto the couch. Simon snagged the tray that he kept under his spot, pausing as he shot another glance over Danny’s way. “So what did we learn, Dan?” 

 

Danny rolled his eyes. “You have a weird intolerance to cold hot dogs.” Simon huffed and dangled the bag of weed in front of him mockingly. Danny sighed and opted for a shrug of his shoulders. This entire interaction was making him wish he smoked first before having it. 

 

“Don’t give me shit for drinking a beer at 3 PM when you’re no better for smoking at 3 PM,” Simon replied, softly smiling as he broke up the bud with his fingers. 

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Danny murmured, closing his eyes and leaning back. He reminded himself one week of free bud was more than worth it. 

Chapter 2

“Patty!” Kev hollered from the kitchen. “Phone’s for you!” 

 

Patty rushed down the steps, skipping past her parents and stumbling into the kitchen. She hesitated though, letting her hand hover above the phone in Kev’s outstretched hand while he wiggled it impatiently at her. “Who is it?” she asked. 

 

Kevin shook his head and shoved the phone towards her in frustration. “Are you dumb? Who else calls you?” 

 

Patty glared at him before snatching the phone out of his hand quickly and shoving him as hard as she could in an attempt to push him out of the kitchen. He only budged a few measly inches, and she groaned in frustration. 

 

“Say 'thank you, Kev,'” he taunted, letting her struggle against his dead weight. 

 

"Fuck off, Kev," she retorted, and she shifted her stance to lead her shove with her shoulder. Kev tumbled a few steps, and Patty took the opportunity to give him one last push over the threshold of the kitchen, a harshly whispered go leaving her lips. She quickly moved to stretch the corded phone to the far end of the kitchen, and she cupped her hand between the phone and her mouth. “Simon?”  

 

“Call out of work tomorrow.” 

 

“What? No. Why?”

 

Simon had already been softly chuckling at her and Kev's altercation, but he felt his smile grow, grinning like a damn fool. He could almost see her: the quick, small shake of her head, and her face contorted in confusion at first but then morphing into intrigue. He thought she was just fucking adorable. “Got something planned for us tonight. I promise you won’t wanna go in tomorrow,” he explained enticingly. Dan had made him wait five fucking days, and Simon could have sworn he was purposely dragging it out to piss him off. The anticipation was fucking killing him.  

 

Patty opened her mouth to respond, but she decided to change course, a sly smile spreading across her face. “Oh, sorry. I have plans tonight.”

 

“What? The fuck you mean you have plans?” Simon tried to hide the fact that he literally choked on his words, but his subsequent coughs around his morning cigarette ratted him out. He didn’t even think to ask her ahead of time. Patty had a pretty consistent schedule: she worked Monday - Thursday 10-4,  leaving the weekends open for potential gigs, and she always had practice on Sunday nights. Otherwise, the girl was always free. Was always available when Simon wanted to see her at least. 

 

Patty held back a giggle; she didn't expect him to be that caught off guard. She bit the inside of her cheek before replying to help maintain her tone. “Yeah, sorry. It must have slipped my mind.” 

 

“Yeah, it slipped your mind. What exactly do you got goin’ on that’s so important?” Simon pressed, and, while he tried to come off playful, he knew it kinda sounded more like disappointment as the words left his mouth. 

 

“Well, I’m supposed to go out with this guy…,” Patty trailed off, cupping her hand over the phone to maintain the illusion as she tittered to herself. 

 

“A guy? Patty, if this is a joke, it's a fucked up one,” Simon barked. He had to physically bite his tongue to hold back from going off on her, wanted to give her a chance to speak first. He was making a valiant effort at not jumping to conclusions over every little thing she said. 

 

Patty uncovered the phone to reveal her bubbly laughter, either oblivious or unbothered by Simon's anger. "Sorry," she giggled, "you make it too easy sometimes." He had said those words to her a handful of times since being released, and she pocketed them, waiting for the right moment to get him back. 

 

Simon failed at hiding his sigh of relief. He was better at reading her face to face; over the phone though, her deadpan tone got him every fucking time. He shook his head and laughed with her. “You’re a fuckin' brat, you know that?”

 

Patty giggled again. “Yeah, but you like it,” she replied. 

 

Simon snorted in shock, and he paused as he tried to come up with a witty response. Though, per usual, Patty was right. He adored seeing the fire burning behind her eyes in a way he knew his often did too. Almost craved to see that fight in her, that bit of fury and mischief wrapped into one. But there was also a different type of flame her eyes had the ability to possess; a gentler kind that felt more like a comforting cup of hot coffee warming his palms rather than the unpredictability of a boiling vat of oil waiting to singe his skin. He could coax it out of her when he managed to string the right words together, or kissed her just right, or allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of her as much as that would make him sick to his stomach. The internal turmoil was always worth it though, to see her glowing. The swell of emotions that would rise to his throat knowing he was able to pull it from her was almost overwhelming, and he hated to admit he was addicted to the rush. The witty response never came, and Patty spoke before he could, backtracking their conversation. 

 

“What time do you want me to come over?” she asked cheerfully. She hadn't gotten to see him in a couple of days now, and Simon wasn't in the best of moods last time she'd been over. She was hoping he was in a more touchy-feely mood today; she missed his arms around her. 

 

Simon sucked on his cigarette as he glanced at the clock, trying to do the math in his head. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he replied. 

 

“Pick me up? Do you think that’s a good idea?” Patty questioned, peeking over her shoulder nervously. There had only been one close call so far, but it was enough to rattle Patty's bones. She had been apprehensive of Simon picking her up ever since and had insisted on using the bus. Simon didn't like the idea of her riding the bus alone, especially at night, which Patty argued was silly because she had been managing just fine for several years. It was a trivial thing to bicker over; the two of them both knowing that it came from a place of care for each other. But Patty and Simon often proved to be equally as stubborn as the other, and the winner, as well as Patty's choice of transportation, was usually determined by who had more energy to hold their ground on the given day. 

 

“Fuck, Pats. We gotta tell ‘em at some point. You plannin’ on hiding me forever?” Simon snapped.

 

Patty immediately groaned on the other end coupled with a quick stomp of her feet in frustration. That had been a sore subject they had danced around for the past several days, and she was over having what seemed like the exact same conversation countlessly. She had finally told her parents that Simon had been released just a week ago now, and she wanted them to sit with it for a moment before she dropped the bomb—and she knew for certain that her dating a convicted felon would, in fact, be a bomb, despite Simon’s protests. She wasn't embarrassed of him, and she didn't want to hide their relationship from her family by any means. But she wanted to give them the best fighting chance at the same time. She always skirted around the conversation, and she knew that was the source of Simon's irritability, her lack of a concise and clear reason for the delay. It was for good reason though: she would have to admit she was doing all of this because she wanted—no, she saw—a future with Simon, and she wasn't sure if either of them were ready to hear that out loud. She knew the next steps of their relationship heavily depended on her parents' acceptance of Simon's presence in her life as much as she hated to admit it. Not that she had any notion of throwing in the towel if they didn't, just that she knew things would be easier if they did. Easier to go out together, easier to move in together, easier for whatever came after that. She had months to chew on this, and she had mapped out a decent timeline in preparation. What she didn't account for was Simon being the impatient asshole that he always was. 

 

“No,” she grumbled. “Simon, you know that I want to tell them—.” 

 

“No, I know, Pats. Shit, sorry, fuck. We’ll talk about this later,” he interrupted once he realized what he'd done. Had obnoxiously heard Dan's voice spring into his head the second the words left his lips: you're just arguing to argue at this point. Fucking hated when he was right. He reached over to his backpack to snag the nearest prescription bottle, crunched on what he hoped was a Xanax. He knew he needed to chill out.

 

Simon was always gonna be an asshole; there was no changing that. But he was putting in a real conscious effort to be less of a fucking dick to her after Dan had called him out after she left the other day. He was still lounging in the living room when Simon got back from dropping her off, idly watching some cartoon on the TV. And Dan wasn't a guy that stayed up late which could only mean that Dan was waiting for him, to talk to him. Simon wasn't a stranger to walking into a room of judgment and ridicule, especially by family no less, but this felt a little different. Simon plopped down next to him, ready to get whatever was bugging him over with. 

Danny glanced over, looked him up and down, and returned to the TV for a while. Simon stewed in the silence that followed, felt his jaw tensing the longer he waited. Dan usually wasn't one to hold back on him, but he did speak eventually. “You like that girl, right?” 

Simon blinked at his brother. Danny’s tone caught him off guard; he posed the question more inquisitively rather than condescendingly, not bothering to look away from the screen in front of them. "What?" 

 

Dan looked at him then and repeated the same steady tone, "Patty. You like her, like for real, right?" 

Simon threw his hands up and sighed. “Fuck, Dan. You know I do.” 

Dan nodded slowly and went back to his show. Made Simon wait until a commercial came on before he elaborated. “I don’t get why you’re such a fucking asshole to her then.” 

Simon had opened his mouth in protest, but the way Dan looked at him made him stop. He wasn't mad—it was something else, maybe concern or disappointment. He didn't know. Simon turned his attention to some stupidly loud commercial and bit his thumb while he thought. She usually called him out when he took it too far, and that hadn’t happened this particular evening. They had been lazily hanging around the house, played some cards with Dan for a while before retreating to the bedroom. He hadn’t woken up this morning in the best of moods though. He had had a lot on his mind as of late which led to an itch for something stronger than what his bag of weed or assorted bottles of painkillers and anti-anxiety meds stored safely in his backpack could provide, but he was doing his best to ignore them, focus on her and what they were doing instead. Clearly, it hadn't gone over as well as he thought it did. 

“Am I that bad?”

 

Danny gave a weird, indiscernible half shrug, half nod combo at first, and Simon had to poke him both figuratively and literally to give him more than that. "If you're gonna call me out, call me out, Dan. I can handle it."

 

"I can't tell if you're being a dick to push her away because you're fucked in the head or scared or something—ow! C'mon man, y'said you could handle it," Danny paused to rub the spot where Simon slugged his arm. "Y’know like I’m one to talk: mom and dad left me fucked in this department too. Like I had to be producing something to deserve affection—no, fuck off, man. I'm just trying to help,” Danny stopped to dodge another smack from his brother. “And if you would pull your head out of your ass for five seconds, you'd realize how fucking stupid that is." 

 

Once a safe distance from his brother on the couch, Danny ended up word vomiting after enough of Simon’s prodding. Told him to stop taking his shit moods out on her. Just because they had a difference of opinion didn’t mean hers was wrong. Could stand to be more empathetic. Probably wouldn't be the worst idea if he stopped talking shit on her parents—unprompted, Dan clarified—in front of her. Danny clearly had all these points in his back pocket, and it was enough for Simon to take the hint that this wasn't an isolated event by any means.

And while it fucking sucked to hear and all he wanted to do was swing in response to Dan's cutting honesty, Simon could tell it was coming from a genuine place, could see that Dan just cared. So Simon took it right on the fuckin' chin, knew he deserved it. Didn't even realize he was doing half of the shit Dan brought up truthfully, and he tried to not immediately succumb to self-loathing at the thought of pushing away the person he cared about the most. 

“You were doing better in the beginning. But you gotta stop testing her limits. I don’t think you’re gonna realize when you’ve gone too far. And, knowing her, it’ll be too late by then.” 

Simon sat with those words for a long fucking time. Shit, it glued him to the couch. He was fucking relieved when Dan stayed up a bit longer with him and talked him off a ledge so to speak. Dan graciously reminded Simon he'd never done this before, never bothered to pay mind to another person and their feelings like this before. There were gonna be ups and downs, yada yada yada. It didn't really make him feel any better. He thanked Dan before stewing about it all night alone in his bedroom. He added it to the list of shit that was keeping him up at night. 

 

“So 7?” Patty chirped, pulling Simon back to the phone call. He felt relieved to hear how her voice perked up. 

 

“Yeah, I’ll be down the street. Make sure you bring your notebook,” he replied sweetly, and he felt all weirdly, disgustingly gooey inside at the way she gasped and giggled. 

 

Patty was getting ready to hang up the phone and let herself be abuzz all day at Simon’s little surprise, but she overheard her dad coughing in the living room—a reminder from the universe. “What do I tell my parents?” She whispered. Simon’s lies were always better than what she could come up with, and it gave her time to repeat the words in her mouth until they felt natural enough to relay.

 

“Tell ‘em that those old freezers finally gave out. Can't sell ice cream if there's nothin' to keep it cold. You can pick where you’re staying tonight. That doesn’t matter,” he answered around an exhale, stubbing his cigarette out.  

 

“Oh, that’s a good one, Simon,” Patty giggled, bouncing on her feet in excitement. 

 

“That’s why you keep me around,” he teased. 

 

“Way more than just that,” she said matter of factly. Simon could almost see the serious look she would wear when she used that tone with him. 

 

“Yeah? What else then?” He didn’t mind hearing that she liked him for more than his well-crafted lies. He could use the reassurance. 

 

Patty opened her mouth to recount endless reasons, but she glanced back into the living room. “Not here,” she whispered, worried at the prospect of eavesdroppers.  

 

“Fine. But I expect a full dissertation when I come to get you about all the reasons you keep me around,” he replied teasingly. 

 

Patty paused. “What’s a dissertation?” 

 

“It’s a big ass essay you write on a research topic, somethin’ you know a lot about. Consider me your area of expertise,” he laughed. 

 

“Oh, well, I won’t have time for that." And Simon could hear the disappointment in her voice. Tugged a smile on his face. 

 

“Just fucking with you,” he assured her. 

 

“Oh! Okay. I’ll make a list instead. See you later,” she replied enthusiastically. 

 

“Can’t wait.”

 

Patty heard the click of the phone, and she quickly returned it to the receiver with a happy wiggle of her fingers. Her entire being felt like it was on fire, from her fingertips to the top of her head down through her belly and all the way to her toes. Simon had a way of making her feel really special and adored, especially when he planned these thoughtful little dates. She had spent many nights replaying those initial 3 days they spent together while Simon was still in prison. She had hoped that his thorough planning also expanded to other areas of his life, outside of revenge, and so far he hadn't disappointed her yet.  She knew she was going to spend the rest of the day wondering and daydreaming about what he had up his sleeve. 

Chapter 3

Notes:

sorry friends i love whiney sadboy simon teehee

Simon was nervous. Like knee-knocking, stomach-churning, jaw-clenching type of nervous. The excitement following his phone call with Patty only lasted a blissful hour before his eyes mistakenly glazed over the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, and he felt his stomach drop all the way to his knees. God, and for what fucking reason? Seeing Patty never put him on edge like this. In fact, it did the exact opposite. Even when Simon wasn't in the headspace to deal with a single, living, breathing being, he could always stand to see her. No one had had that effect on him before—the ability to still the chaos of his mind, even if only for a few minutes. But right now, as much as he hated to admit it, she was contributing to the chaos. 

 

He managed to keep the panic at bay for a few hours, but the closer it got to 7, the more he couldn’t find stillness in his body or his mind. Each passing thought louder than the next; his thumb scabbed from ripping the skin between his teeth. He swore under his breath and stomped down the stairs to the basement. Simon had been told to hit the yard more times than he'd like to count while he was locked away, and, at first, he fucking hated it. Made him feel like a fucking animal that had to be worn out before being allowed back inside. But, once the anger subsided, he found that it actually started to work for him, pushing his body until he was forced to focus on the burn in his muscles instead of his mind. That's exactly what he needed right now.

He didn't have much to work with at Dan's other than his own weight and a pullup bar Danny had long ago discarded in a dusty box in the corner of the basement. But it was better than nothing, and he was desperate for a solution that wasn’t zingers or liquor at this point. He popped in an old cassette into Danny's stereo, cranked the volume until it drowned the deafening cacophonies in his head, and took the pullup bar to hook it on the doorframe leading to the upstairs. 

 

And it did the trick. Until it didn't. Home alone, he allowed himself to shout obscenities in frustration until he felt like a fucking moron for being so worked up over this shit. He opted to hop in the shower to help clear his racing mind, rinse all the sweat off, and, ideally, distract himself. The hot water beat down on him gloriously, and his head finally felt empty if only for a few, peaceful minutes. Christ, he didn’t know why he was such a fucking mess right now. 

Fuck, okay, that was a lie—he knew exactly why.

 

He had been having the same conversation in his head for at least a week now, which was only exacerbated by the conversation he had with Dan about Patty. It was time: he had to tell her. Tell her how he really felt.

It wasn’t as hard as he expected—to accept it in his brain, to admit to himself how he felt about her. But right behind that acceptance was the exact reason he had been avoiding this altogether: the landslide of all those repressed feelings and unresolved issues he’d been pushing away, shoving down, bottling up for months, years now really. And while Simon usually took no issue broadcasting how he felt, this was way different than bitching or complaining or fighting out of anger or unfairness or uncertainty. Sure, the passion that fueled those emotions were equivalent, if not more so with Patty, but this was new territory Simon was navigating. And it was frustrating him, pissing him off.

Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was wrong with him? Is this what all those snobby, uptight therapists and specialists had been insisting upon all these years? No, he was sure that they were all heavily influenced by his parents’—who were heavily influenced by Renae’s—imposed diagnoses. He didn’t truly believe any of them; he just really liked fire, had an admittedly unusual way of serving up justice based on what he considered perfectly sound morals, and was rightfully pissed at his own existence in this capitalistic hellscape he was forced to endure. Just because he refused to be a fucking sheep didn’t mean he lacked the ability to love and maintain a mutually beneficial relationship, even if he hadn’t really done it before. He knew he was capable of this, of giving himself over to her wholeheartedly. Or, at the very least, he thought he was capable of convincing himself he was. He wanted it so fucking bad. 

He threw some shampoo on his head, worked it into a foam, and, fuck, the scratching sensation reminded him of Patty’s fingers, wishing it was her instead of him combing through his sweat-matted hair. This was the exact shit he was talking about. The longing for her in more ways than just sex was wild to him, almost obscene. She was never off his mind for more than a few minutes at a time, and he would have found it annoying if it was anyone else that had gotten so entangled in his already fucked up head. But right now, the thought of her wasn't bringing him peace necessarily. He knew it would be impossible to stop thinking about her entirely, especially since he had been looking forward to this evening, so he tried to reorient his mind from melancholic and self-deprecating to encouraging and optimistic. Easier said than done, but he was really trying. 

 

She had already said it to him before; it's not like he had to worry if she would reciprocate again. And though she hadn’t said it since that first morning they spent together, there were moments. Moments Simon knew she wanted to and stopped herself. Could tell by either the tone in her voice, or the look in her eye, or the way her touches would turn into gentle caresses, could feel it in the way her lips glided against his, and the way that she said his name. He wanted to encourage her to say it again, a small (big) part of him desperate to hear it now that he was ready, but he knew that was about as selfish as it fucking got. He knew he couldn't keep taking; it was his turn to give. 

 

He rinsed his scalp and found himself replaying the moments he was the most certain she had wanted to tell him she loved him again. It felt pathetic to admit that he pulled those memories out to look at and study probably daily at minimum. Sometimes he'd do it searching for comfort and reassurance, sometimes for courage and confidence, sometimes out of pure curiosity and intrigue. But whatever the motivation, the end of the memory would always be met with a bitter aftertaste. He felt like a fucking prick for holding them back; again, a voice from the recesses of his mind reminded him. Fuck, it wasn't a habit he wanted to continue. 

 

 

The first time Simon knew she had nearly let it slip was almost comical, looking back on it now. They were walking to the bus stop after Patty had insisted on taking Simon to one of the new offbeat shops in town, and Simon stopped to pick up what he thought was a particularly neat-looking rock nestled in the grass next to the bench. He took a moment to study it before he handed it over, muttering a gruff "here" to her. He was already pretty sure she had wanted to say it then, by the way her eyes lit up and the way she gasped and the way she wrapped her arms so tight around him. But then she thanked him, so sweetly; a gentle kiss to his cheek and a whisper in his ear, “I love it.” There was an unmistakable pause between the words love and it, and he did his best to not tense up under her grasp. The incoming bus was his only saving grace, coming to a screeching halt just as Patty started to furrow her brow at him. He spent the entire bus ride convincing himself he imagined it, telling himself no one would say that shit from a rock of all things. But later, as he laid awake in bed that night, he knew what he heard to be true. Patty was exactly the type of person that would say those three little words to him in response to a fucking rock. 

 

 

The second time was a handful of days later. Patty had called him unexpectedly, whimpering and distraught from the phone at work. It felt like a fucking stab to his chest, hearing her voice crack into a sob that was both wrenching and infuriating all at the same time. Fuck, he'd seen and heard her cry before but never anything remotely close to what he heard over the phone that day. It was only a couple hours into her shift, at the peak of summer when the shop was the busiest, and he wasn't able to make out much of what she was saying. But he didn't need much; it didn't matter why when she sounded like that. Told her he was already on the way before she could ask. 

By some miracle, Dan had been home early from work, and Simon could have thanked a god he didn't believe in for the perfect timing. Dan didn't need much explanation, and he quickly tossed his keys to Simon. He made it to the shop in less than five minutes, slammed the car into park out front in a “no parking zone," and stomped up to the door, nearly ripping it off the hinges in his fury.

It took every ounce of willpower he had to swallow his burning rage once he got a good look at her, the distress written plainly on her face for anyone to see. He had been prepared to feel anger,—Simon was inherently a very loyal and, in turn, protective man—but he didn’t expect her heightened emotional state to flip the switch inside his brain, a familiar tingle bubbling in his fingertips. His eyes scanned the building as he had a passing thought of how to burn the place to the ground without getting caught, but then she was there. The feeling of her rushing into his arms, the squeeze of her fingers between his shirt desperately as she pressed her tearful face deep into his chest, stopped that train dead in its tracks. Suddenly, his only thought, his only priority was getting her the fuck out of there. He couldn't stand to see her like this. He needed her happy again, even if it was selfishly so. 

 

Patty’s manager was quick on her heels though, spouting nonsense and threatening that she’d be written up if she left. Simon couldn’t keep the lid on his rage any longer. The combination of the corporate bullshit and her heartbreaking sobs were just too much for him, and the next moments were a blur. He remembered flipping her manager off, couldn’t recall exactly what he said but knew in fewer words he told the guy to fuck off, kicked open the door so hard he dented it (he didn’t remember that part, but Patty had giggled gleefully when she informed him the following day), and led her quickly into Dan’s car.

He knew it took a lot to get Patty to a state of tears like this. A few tears here or there was one thing, but this was a full-blown meltdown the likes of which he had yet to see. Saw her do some bizarre ass shit he'd never seen before either but thought it was best to ignore for now; grasping at the roots of her hair, the meat of her palm repeatedly smacking against her forehead, some even weirder, arrhythmic head shaking. He'd never felt her body so tense beneath him before, and it was bordering on the edge of actually scaring him. To be fair, she had given him several warnings about something like this happening, all in which he waved off and didn’t take seriously at the time. Didn’t think that her breakdowns could compare to his. He was wrong, and now he was kicking himself in the ass for not listening. 

He let her cry all her frustrations into his chest, didn't even mind the growing wet spot of tears and probably snot on his favorite shirt. It was weird and intimate, observing her reaction to frustration or rage or sadness (he wasn't sure which it was or maybe it was a combination or something different entirely) and how much they differed from his. Patty wasn’t vocal nor did she resort to violence like he did when he was upset or pissed. He would rant viciously or smash his fists or feet into the nearest target whereas Patty struggled to bring any words to her lips, dragging her knuckles from her chest to her throat anytime Simon tried to ask a question.

It took him longer than he’d like to admit to get the clue that his questioning was doing anything but helping, and he scrambled to find a different way to comfort her, shutting himself up and wrapping his arms tightly around her. And it felt like he was doing something right when she squeezed him as hard as she could back. He let her rock her head back and forth on his chest which he assumed was some sort of soothing technique she picked up because she did calm down enough to get some words out. He brushed his fingers through her hair gently and wiped away her tears, speaking softly to her, and she was able to hiccup out that some guy was a real asshole to her, berated her in front of everyone for messing up his order and not understanding exactly what he wanted. On top of that, her manager didn't have her back and yelled at her in front of the whole store. “He called me a fucking idiot in front of everyone, Simon.”

If she wasn't literally head first into his chest, he knew he would have ended up back in that shop, probably catching a charge after getting his hands on her manager. But her sobs had waned to sniffles thanks to his sweet words and light scratches to her back and kisses to her head in between it all. Eventually, he was able to crack a few jokes, and she laughed a wide smile, stuttering out a thank you that most certainly started out a lot differently before she changed her course. He beat himself up over that one, knowing he should have just come out and said it then. He was sure as fuck he wouldn’t do that for anyone else, had actually surprised himself with the amount of patience he was able to exude for her, and even felt a warm, fuzzy sense of pride for making her feel better. That had to mean something.

 

More recently, just a few days ago, she had almost let it out when they were going at it back at Dan’s on a night his brother was conveniently out. Patty brought her boombox over for their date, and Simon was fucking ecstatic that it was his turn to pick the music. He had gotten a little too stoned coupled with maybe one too many beers that pulled his guard down enough to put him in a lovey-dovey crossfade, and he opted for an old Zeppelin tape Dan had snagged from his basement the week prior. Dan wouldn’t have known it, but his Led Zeppelin vinyls and cassettes were about as romantic as it got for Simon. 

Truthfully, he was kind of tired of fucking to punk music for what seemed like two weeks straight. Not that he didn’t love the genre, but he wasn’t always into an angry, fast fuck, and other times he was just lazy and didn’t want to keep up that pace. Though if he wanted to be really, really honest with himself, he had started to crave something more from their sex life other than what felt like both of them trying to get their rocks off as quickly and as roughly as possible. God, that was a weird concept for Simon. He had always set boundaries in bed to prevent the other party from getting too attached, and here he was throwing them all out the window. All these arbitrary rules he made in his head to protect himself were beginning to feel like maybe they were actually holding him back. He suddenly didn’t care if he was gonna get hurt; his body had this overwhelming need to feel her love in more ways than a hug or a kiss or her words could provide. 

 

He popped in the tape and made his way back over to the bed, clumsily walking his hands over either side of Patty while she giggled sweetly at his sloppy kisses. She made a teasing comment paired with a look of confusion about the “old rock n’ roll” the second Custard Pie came on, and he stopped everything he was doing to reach over and turn the music up louder. “Fuck you. Plant’s a fucking legend,” he remembered snapping at her, maybe even shook a finger in her face knowing himself. She laughed, harder than she should have, and it spurred him into a several minute rant about the "pure talent and chemistry" between Plant and Page. And Patty listened, bless her heart, to his drunk and stoned ramblings. She curled her lips inward toward the end of his lecture, nodding her head, stroking her hand up and down his arm, and leaning in closer until their lips finally met. And he was just drunk enough for it to work.

 

He took his time with her, pressing and sucking from her lips down her neck to her collarbone and across her chest and tummy until she was squirming and panting for more beneath him. He detoured his mission only to skip the tape to Houses of Holy, one of his personal favorites. He chose to ignore Patty’s eye roll, kissing her deeply instead while he pressed into her at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn’t realize he had started humming as began to rock against her, and he vaguely remembered Patty’s breathy request to hear him sing the words instead. He normally would have told her to fuck off, but liquid courage got the best of him. He entertained her, crying out alongside the tape and pulling a smile out of her that felt like sunshine after a week of rain. “You can always… mm! Play this instead. As long as you… sing for me,” she panted between his thrusts, a lazy grin captured between her parted lips. 

He responded with a gentle love bite and suckle to her neck as he made long and deep strokes, listening to her cry and whimper; he loved how vocal she could be. He murmured between kisses how beautiful she was and how much she meant to him and how good she made him feel, all just rolling off his tongue before he could even try to put a filter on himself, wasn't sure that he wanted to stop himself anyway. At the peak of their shared climax, he could have sworn he heard it, through a whiney gasp. She choked it back down her throat and bit down hard enough on her lip to make it bleed. He wanted to reach down and pull it out. If she said it to him again, he was sure he could say it back. 

 

But was he? 

 

He had startling moments of clarity and confidence, where it felt natural and right to love her. Where it felt like their emotional exchange helped to patch over all those internal bumps and bruises and cuts he had left long ignored rather than ripping them open and pouring salt into fresh wounds. And it felt like maybe he provided the same back to her, or at least something similar.

But most of the time, he felt like they were playing some sort of sick waiting game that was sure to end with heartbreak and misery and leaving Simon in pieces that he wasn't sure he'd be able to put back together. It was easy to convince himself in those moments that Patty may have loved him now, but she may not after they slowly chipped away at all the walls and secrets of his past he kept hidden under lock and key. He hadn’t exactly jumped the gun to divulge every single detail to her yet, though Dan had been sure to push him to. He just wasn’t ready.

She may have loved him now, but would she still after she spent more time with him and realized how difficult being around him could be? He couldn't even stand himself most days. 

Maybe she loved him now, but how long would it take before he fucked up so royally that she couldn't stand to look at him anymore? How long would it take for her to give up on him, just like everyone else had? How long would it take for her to see that beneath his exterior he was nothing but a scared, insecure, and directionless kid that just wanted somebody to love and somebody to love him back? 

 

When he wasn't playing the how long game, he would cripple himself by what it meant if he really did love her. He would send himself into a frenzied downward spiral, thinking about the future, and what it meant for them, or what it looked like, and what he would have to do or change to give her what she deserved. And, fuck, did Simon believe she deserved way more than what he had, what he was remotely capable of giving. She deserved the fucking world in his eyes.

This concept of what he should be, all that shit his dad and the rest of society had fucking grilled into him, rang in his head late at night when he couldn’t sleep. Even after spending years upon years dismantling all those bullshit constructs in his head, here they were, rearing their ugly heads. There was no way a fuck up like him could provide her the life she deserved. Simon couldn’t do a whole 9-5, expected to be home for dinner every night, have the same boring conversations repeatedly, eventually have to deal with a kid he didn’t want when all he wanted to do was get shit faced. It was eating him alive honestly. The only thing that could pull him out of that headspace was reminding himself Patty hadn’t asked for any of that shit, and she was far from conventional or traditional for that matter. He didn’t really know what she wanted for the future; he wasn’t sure if he was ready to find out.

 

The water’s temperature started to drop slightly, pulling him back to the stark white walls of Danny’s tiny shower. It may have been cramped, but he was grateful for any kind of privacy after avoiding shower sharks for the past couple years. He frowned into the stream and nudged the handle further to the left, returning to the mind-numbing heat for just a moment longer. 

 

At the end of the day, despite all the shit he didn’t want to confront or deal with, he knew that he did love her. And the least he could do was fucking tell her. He knew she knew. But that wasn’t enough.

And he also knew that if Dan had even a sliver of knowledge about the situation, he’d be getting his fucking ass chewed, and that somehow helped him to get his head straight. He could hear Dan's reasoning voice in his head, countering every claim or question he could conjure. Knew Danny would call him overdramatic, blowing things out of proportion and overthinking. This was about Patty. His Patty. The girl who'd brought him so much peace; why would that change over night? He could do this. 

 

But, just in case Simon fucked everything up, he planned what he thought was a kick ass evening: something they both had talked about and wanted to do, as well as a little surprise for her later on in the night. Made him feel better in that if he fumbled or was too chickenshit to finally be honest with both her and himself, he at least treated her to an evening she deserved.

Chapter 4

Notes:

okay friends I struggled with this chapter lol. Like full out brawled w this one and by the time I got to where i didn’t absolutely hate it i made a very grave mistake and lost the final edit lmfao (it was devastating but it’s fine im fine.)

Anyway sorry for the delay and if it’s a little choppy in parts lol enjoy!

Simon fiddled anxiously with the air freshener hung around Danny’s rearview mirror with a freshly lit cigarette pinched between his fingers. He knew it probably didn't help, him showing up to Patty's a good fifteen minutes early. Stupidly leaving him with nothing but his jumbled thoughts and Danny's shitty selection of cassettes while he put himself through what felt like self-inflicted torture. Simon was never any good at waiting, or being on time for that matter. But he was making a point, if only to himself, to be there for her when he said he'd be. As if he hadn't made himself worry about enough in one day. 

The anxiousness surrounding his punctuality was new to him. In the past, Simon traditionally ran on his own time, showing up whenever was convenient to him, using start times as a suggestion, and purposely delaying his arrival to functions or events he didn’t want to be at, and he made sure the other party knew he didn't care about his tardiness or lack of attendance altogether. The habit only grew worse during his sporadic episodes of allowing the drugs to control his every waking move, sometimes not bothering—as he would claim, it was usually more like not remembering—to show up at all. He wanted to keep that part of him from her.

 

So here he was. Chainsmoking cigarette after cigarette in his little brother’s car while he used the stupid fucking air freshener as his makeshift punching bag. All for her. 

 

Simon's nervous pacing and attempt to snag the keys nearly an hour early didn't go unnoticed by Dan either. Simon knew Danny could sense something was up, but he was really trying to avoid talking about it. Didn't want to sour his mood when he knew all this jittery shit would disappear the second he saw her anyway. At least that's what he was telling himself. 

 

“No use in leaving this early; last maid won't be out for another thirty minutes at the earliest. Roll me a joint before you go, yeah?"

 

Simon glared at him but set his backpack down on the couch to pull out the necessary supplies silently. 

 

"You should actually smoke too. It wouldn’t kill you to chill the fuck out, man.” 

Simon bit his tongue, grabbed a beer from the fridge as a compromise, and sat down on the couch to roll him another joint, if only to kill a few minutes. He was starting to regret his generous deal to smoke Dan up for a full fucking week. The kid proved to be a bigger stoner than he anticipated. And now he'd have to swing by Albert’s before picking up Patty. Great.

 

Dan was a fucking talker once you got him smoking, and Simon was trying his best to not find the sound of his voice irritating, especially once he started poking and prodding him about what he was so stressed out about. 

 

Simon rolled his eyes. He really didn't want to get into it either, knowing Dan would absolutely chew his ass for holding back with her, and he hated when Dan made him talk about his feelings. But he knew he had to give Dan something to chew on. “Just don’t wanna leave her hangin’, Dannyboy.” 

 

Dan was in, what Simon referred to as, one of his fortune cookie type of moods—or, better put, type of highs—where he got all introspective and inquisitive and shit. Sometimes it cracked him up, and sometimes it just felt like Dan used it as an excuse to rip open and stick his dirty fingers in wounds better left alone. And he had a sneaking suspicion he was about to undergo a botched surgery instead of sharing a good laugh with his brother. 

"Do you remember my graduation party?" 

Simon snorted, amused. Of course, he remembered Dan's graduation party. Simon may have been near rock bottom, strung out to high hell and couchsurfing between dealers and other friends in the game, but he made sure to get his ass there, on time no less. He was fucking proud of Dan. Graduated with honors and shit too. He remembered how he scrounged up the last bit of his spare change to buy Dan a card. He didn’t have anything to put in it, but it was better than coming empty-handed. 

Simon remembered being so preoccupied with getting himself there on time that he totally spaced that he wasn't even invited by the time he walked through the door. It took him a moment, in his opioid-fueled haze, to realize the explosion of shouts ringing across the room was in response to his arrival specifically. Simon would never forget the way Dan looked at him, baby-faced and wide-eyed, a mix of confusion, hope, and hurt all plastered on his face at once. He still felt guilty about it, and he was honestly a little pissed at him for bringing it up. 

 

But that day wasn’t about Simon, so he left as quickly as he came, not wanting to steal the attention away from Dan any more than he already had. He walked up to Danny, dropped the card in his lap, told him he was proud of him, and made his exit without any show. Danny had chased him down the street and pulled him into a bear hug, one that Simon didn't resist for once. They hadn’t seen each other in months at that point. 

 

“It’s kinda like a uh, like a tell or something for you, Si. You were always late for family dinners but always showed up on time for band practice. You were three hours late to Mom and Dad’s 25th anniversary party, yet you were there ten minutes early for my graduation party. And I still don’t fuckin' know how you even found out about it to this day, man. I mean, the card—.”

 

Simon grumbled at Dan to get to his point; he had places to be.

 

Dan puffed on the joint and gazed at the flickering cherry before looking back at Simon. “Just trying to remind you that you've always been capable of showing up for the people and things that you loved.”

 

 

Simon shook his head slightly, smiled, and smacked the air freshener again. He really did love her. 

 

 

Patty drummed her fingers on her desk as she watched the clock crawl closer to 7; it seemed like time was moving agonizingly slow, taunting her on purpose. Simon sounded awfully disappointed when she pretended to have plans, so she had good reason to believe he had to have something really special planned for them. She could feel the anticipation building underneath her skin, thumping in her heart, and rattling her brain. All this unbridled energy compounding inside her with no place for it to go. 

 

Shit, her hangnail was bleeding again. Guess some of the energy went there. 

 

Patty popped her thumb into her mouth to suck off the blood and checked her bag for the fifth time just to distract herself from the clock. She may have been restless, but she was never nervous about seeing Simon, even when she couldn’t tell what kind of mood he’d be in. While Danny may have chastised him for it,—going as far as snapping at Simon in front of Patty, which sometimes felt like an older brother trying to protect his younger sister, and other times felt like he was feeding the growing flames of a fire that Patty would have to later put out—she never minded his fluctuations. And she even found herself getting better at navigating the cycles of his ups and downs, especially once she was able to make out some semblance of a pattern to them. She was proud too, that she was learning to take care of him the way he would for her. She could find herself jealous of the way Simon made it seem easy, deescalating and comforting her, in comparison to her rocky but usually somewhat successful attempts at returning the favor. But at least she was trying, and she felt like she was improving. 

 

Patty had prepped her parents before she went to work that she’d be gone til the next day which made it easier to bid quick goodbyes as she tried to calmly leave the house. She knew her buzzing energy was pouring out of her when her mom raised a suspecting eyebrow in her direction as she turned to leave. She briefly wondered how many times she could get burned with a curling iron before they’d start to question and eventually unravel the fabricated ongoings of her life. She decided to discard the thought; it was pointless. She planned to tell them about her and Simon before it got that far anyway.

 

Patty knew she was stepping out the door early, but she couldn’t stand to be confined by those walls anymore. Not when her mind couldn’t stop conjuring images and ideas of what Simon had in store for them. She was ready to find out what they were. 

Out of habit, she glanced down the block to where Simon usually "hid" out of her parents' potential vision and was surprised to find he was already waiting for her. She could hardly contain herself and let out a small noise of delight as she skipped towards him. 

He hadn’t noticed her yet; she could see one arm bent out of the window, smoke billowing from his hand, paired with pinched brows and a frown. She laughed lightly to herself as she watched him swat at the little green tree Danny hung from his rearview mirror. Simon may have wanted to be perceived as unapproachable and offputting to the world, but, just a half inch below the surface, Patty knew him to be the kindest, most thoughtful, and sweetest person she had ever met. She also knew him well enough that he'd probably tell her to shut up or fuck off if she said that out loud to him too. 

 

As Patty hurried down the sidewalk, she watched his hardened face transform into the biggest and warmest smile the second he noticed her approach. That very grin still gave her butterflies even after her hundredth time seeing it. She adored how the corners of his eyes would crinkle, how his nose would faintly scrunch, and the way his entire face would light up. It was addicting: the prickly yet pleasant satisfaction she would get knowing he really only smiled that way for her, because of her.

A part of her had half the mind to turn around and snag her Polaroid to capture it, but she knew it would be a waste of time and energy. At least for now. Patty had every intention of putting together a different kind of scrapbook, one that could be sat on a coffee table rather than tucked inside a drawer. But Simon had yet to let her take any pictures of him that didn't have his dick front and center. She had to admit it was a little disappointing, not that she didn't love it by any means. She just really liked his face too and wouldn't have minded being able to flip to a picture of him smiling where his grin wasn't in the background for once. Danny had informed her early on that there were less than five pictures of Simon in the family photo album and that he’d always been resistant to his picture being taken. He told her to consider herself lucky that she had any of him at all. But Patty wouldn't settle for that. She knew she could get him there. Just like with anything else that came to Simon, patience and perseverance was key. 

 

Simon couldn't have been happier at her early appearance. He finally felt his mind slowly start to settle as soon as she came into his vision, just like he knew it would. He quickly hopped out of the car, pulling her head towards his chest to press his lips to the top of her head and reaching to grab the bag from her shoulders. He knew Patty didn't like when they lingered outside her parents' house, but he really wasn't in the mood to give a shit. Besides, if Connie or Norm so happened to peek far enough outside the window to spot them, at least they'd see him being some sort of a gentleman rather than speeding off like a madman with their beloved daughter in tow.

 

“Hi, baby. Missed you,” he murmured sweetly. Patty relaxed at his words and touch, echoing his greeting and nuzzling her head against his chest. She could tell he was in a much better mood than when she last saw him already. 

 

He released his grasp around her and opened up both passenger doors, slinging her bag into the back and gesturing with an impatient index finger for her to hop in the front. He didn’t miss the slight tinge of pink on her cheeks, and he smiled smugly to himself. He knew she adored the pet name, knew she liked it when he opened the door for her though she never asked or said one way or another. But he could tell. And he'd do anything to make sure she never stopped looking at him like that, even the shit he swore he would never stoop to doing. He understood why now. 

 

"I'm excited," she tittered as he situated himself back in the driver's seat. He could see her fingers dancing out of the corner of his eye. Fuck, those little movements of hers always made him feel so good inside. 

 

"Me too. Been thinkin' 'bout this for weeks now," he grinned as he plucked the smoldering cigarette from the ashtray and puffed life back into it, letting it hang from his mouth before pulling back onto the street. 

 

Patty's wide-mouth smile came with a little gasp, nodding her head enthusiastically at Simon and reaching to squeeze his hand tightly several times. Simon mimicked her pattern and kept their shared hands on his thigh for longer than usual. It didn't go unnoticed by Patty. 

 

"You're really good at it," she announced matter-of-factly. 

 

"Good at what?" Simon raised a curious brow as he turned to check over her expression which didn't help to clue him in on which direction this was going. Patty often spoke out of context, and, with her, she could be referencing just about anything. 

 

"Dates, Simon," she deadpanned like obviously, but then added through a giggle, "you're very thoughtful." 

Patty thought it was funny, how he claimed he was her area of expertise on their phone call this morning when she knew it was really the other way around. There was very little that she did or said or alluded to that went unnoticed by Simon. His hypervigilant and paranoid brain was a double-edged sword, dwelling on the details and overanalyzing situations was proving to be both a hindrance and his saving grace all at once. She wouldn't trade it for the world either. She was sometimes overwhelmed at how much he not only paid attention but acted on the things she said. She had never been truly seen like that before him. 

 

"Yeah?" Simon liked hearing that, and he didn't mind that it was showing on his face too, could feel it in his right cheek as he stole a glance over to her. Just having her presence near him had already calmed his nerves but tacking on the spoken words of affirmation was the boost he needed. He almost forgot why he was nervous in the first place. Almost. 

 

“Mhm,” she hummed as she turned in her seat to face him more head-on, letting her eyes sweep over him from top to bottom. He must have just gotten out of the shower; his hair was still slightly damp and curling up at the ends of the longer, center section. She reached out to rub her fingers over the shaved sides that weren't so shaved anymore. It wasn't as satisfying when the little hairs didn't graze her fingertips pleasantly, rather now they glided right over and through the shorter strands. 

 

“I know. It’s already gettin’ long again,” he said with a raised hand in admission. The small frown on her face said enough, and he swore he could already hear the words stirring inside her before she could speak them. He felt her trail over to the middle of his hair, twirling her finger with a look of intrigue and mischief on her face. “I’ll cut it soon,” he assured her. 

 

Patty sighed contently but shook her head slightly. “Just shave the sides. I like your curls," she smiled as she combed through a small knot. Before his release, Simon had chopped everything a good bit—a little too much for Patty's liking—before going in with the trimmers. She liked the way his hair would hug the base of his skull, spinning into loose coils down his neck. And, as proven to her over these past couple of weeks, she enjoyed the length for more than just how it looked on him too. 

 

“That so?” Simon raised an eyebrow at her, taking a long drag off his cigarette. He wasn’t oblivious to the way her eyes were combing over him, wearing that brazen little smile that always meant she was undressing him with her eyes. “What if I like it short?” he teased. 

Patty pouted her lips at him. He could like it short all he wanted. But there was a logistical aspect he was neglecting to see. That was okay; she could remind him.

 

She wrapped her fingers tightly through the strip of longer locks and tugged enough to pull his head slightly back, a small whine escaping Simon. “When it’s short, I can’t do this,” she replied as sweet as sugar, like she wasn't giving him a half-chub at her touch let alone that tone with him. “And what am I gonna hold on to if you cut it too short?” she added, doing her best to feign innocence. 

“Fuckin' alright, Pats. Heard." His white flag was a brief wave of his hand just off the steering wheel; he wasn't planning on fucking cutting it anyway, just wanted to tease her a bit. And he certainly wasn't ready for her to volley it back to him quite like that. Fuck, that took her, what, all of two fucking minutes to get him worked up? Simon had half the mind to park the car and pull her into the backseat right there and then. 

 

Patty smiled smugly and tilted her head to the side with a raise of her eyebrow and a shrug of her shoulder, a little hmph of a noise to boast her victory. 

 

“You’re getting better at that, y'know,” he encouraged with a grin and a knowing nod. This was a whole new side of her that he was sure they were both discovering simultaneously. 

Her letters had been enough to show that Patty had some kinks of her own, but Simon could tell she had barely scratched the surface in comparison to what all he knew was out there. With that, he was trying to take it slow, had only asked her to do a couple of very minor, maybe what some would consider demeaning or degrading things to him in bed. Just to test the waters, he reasoned to himself. Nothing crazy either: just a little bit of hair-pulling (very mild, entry-level shit), gotten her to slap him once or twice in the face (which she started—not him), and had only asked her to spit on him once (okay, listen, it was only once, and he reasoned it didn't count since he knew he got loosed-lipped from the addys Donnie had fed him. And Patty didn't understand the request anyway, lifting herself off of him to spit onto his dick with a confused and almost offended look on her face. He didn't have the balls to correct her). They were baby steps, but steps nonetheless. He really didn't want to scare her away. 

 

Patty giggled happily, drumming her fingers on his thigh as she leaned to press her lips to his cheek. She had just recently caught on that Simon liked it when she was a little more direct and a little rough with him, though it was never something he mentioned in his letters to her for whatever reason. 

It took an accident for her to finally put the pieces together; she had instinctively smacked him in a knee-jerk reaction to him biting down too hard on her tit. The silence after she did it coupled with the deepest, reddest blush she’d ever seen on his cheeks ratted him out before she could ask. She still apologized, but he shook his head, smiled, and told her to do it again. She scrunched her face up at him; she didn't want to hit him. Patty knew Simon liked pain, evident by his particularly needy moans when she really pressed her canines into him or cut the skin of his back with her nails, but that was different. It felt wrong to put her hands on the person she loved the most like that. But Simon had given her a toothy grin with those pretty pink cheeks where she could see the outline of where her fingers had marked his skin, and then he pleaded for it in a way that made her light-headed and hot all over.

 

So she did it again.

 

And she found she kinda liked it. 

 

"Pats."

 

"Hmm?" Patty fluttered her eyes back to his, not even realizing she had lost herself in thought again. It had been hard to keep her mind off of him all day as it was, and now that he was in front of her, where she could feel and see and hear him, she was having a hard time thinking about anything other than making him moan for her. He was her real boyfriend; she didn't see any point in trying to hide her desire for him, but Simon tended to tease her relentlessly when she was openly drooling over him. She was making an effort to keep it to herself more, but he made that very difficult most of the time. Like now, for instance. 

 

Simon shook his head and smirked at her. "I asked you a question."

 

"You did?" She narrowed her eyes at him. She was looking at his lips the whole time, and she didn't remember seeing them move. Knowing Simon, he was probably just fucking with her. But knowing herself, she was too busy thinking about getting on top of him again to have been actually paying attention enough to notice. 

 

"Yeah, but I can see you got your 'fuck me' eyes on again. You think you can make it a couple hours?" This was a genuine question on his behalf, not meant to be teasing in the slightest either. Patty could get herself so worked up that her normal thinking processes would completely go out the door, which Simon found extremely flattering and all, but he needed her brain in working order for the evening. He watched Patty look him over again, could feel her want with every flick and flutter of her eyes across his body. But she sat up quickly after and smiled widely at him.

 

"I'll do my best. What was your question?" 

 

God, this woman was gonna be the death of him. 

"Wanted to make sure you brought your notebook is all," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady as to not give away the surprise quite yet. He didn't think there was really any chance of her guessing what he had planned for the evening, but the request of the notebook was a disguise in itself just in case she did figure it out. He wasn't sure if she knew that he knew she kept the lyrics from the warehouse folded up inside of it, but he was really banking on capturing that particular song for her tonight. 

 

Patty wiggled in her seat, all smiles and giggles, and quickly turned to the backseat to pull it out. "I even have the list in here," she chirped, and Simon felt his stomach drop immediately. The fucking list. He knew he should have clarified he was joking. Patty always followed through with her shit, almost to a fault.

 

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t think you’d actually do that," he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head as he looked back at her. He watched Patty’s eyes dart upward, eyelids fluttering and head shaking slightly as she processed his words. Her head turned sharply to him after several deliberate blinks with her eyebrows pulled together. “But you asked me to."

 

“I was fucking with you. But since you did, lemme hear ‘em." He was trying to play it off lightly, but he just felt like a fucking jerk instead.  

 

Patty narrowed her eyes at him and looked back at the notebook, tracing a finger over one of the worn stickers on the cover. She had taken it with her to work, so she could jot down her reasons as they came to her. She was a little annoyed that Simon would ask for something he didn't really want, especially considering how much more time she spent adding to the list once she got home.

 

“Hmm, not now,” she decided and turned to the backseat to slide it back into her bag. Patty watched as Simon pursed his lips in response, though he nodded slowly. "Maybe you can write me a list later, then I'll read you mine," she qualified, and she leaned over to kiss him, bringing a smile back to both of their faces. 

 

"Yeah, okay. That's fair," he agreed, resting his hand over hers. Patty leaned over to mess with the radio before pulling her legs up in her seat and turning her head to the window. 

It didn’t take long before he turned into his old neighborhood; the landscape transforming from one-story, rundown shacks to tidied and gated estates. He shot a passing glance over at Patty to see if she began to recognize any of the surroundings, though he knew that was unlikely, and not necessarily because it'd been years and she'd only been there once. Rather, Simon had quickly learned that when she was staring out the window she usually was anything but present. 

 

The first couple of times it happened it annoyed him. He had been talking to—or maybe a better way to put it would be ranting at—her, and he only noticed it was a one-sided conversation after he asked her a question that left the car in silence. She had apologized profusely, assuring him she was lost in thought rather than purposely giving him the silent treatment. And he believed her; it seemed like she was telling the truth. She wasn't the type to play mind games anyway. He wasn't sure if she even knew how. 

 

The next few instances had him worried. He didn't badger her or rouse her once he noticed she had slipped away, but he studied her instead, determined to figure out what exactly was going on in that head of hers. Her eyes would glaze over, sometimes she went slack-jawed and sometimes she wore a little grin on her face, and her index finger would mindlessly rub against the side of her thumb. His concern only grew as it happened more frequently, how easily she would slip away into a dissociative state. He selfishly thought he drove her to it.

 

It took some very strategic prodding, but he had gotten her to open up about it just once. She claimed she had always been a daydreamer, constantly getting yelled at for zoning out in school, or at home, or at work. She said she had done it ever since she could remember. Sometimes it would be a nice, quiet resting place for her brain when she was overworked or exhausted or overwhelmed, and other times it was more like a playground for her, especially when her brain was overactive and imaginative. She had explained that her creativity would flow endlessly in this space, spurring off into lyrics and poems and art projects and visions and anywhere else her mind would take her.

 

Simon, on the other hand, only knew escape via numbing his mind rather than getting lost in it, and he found himself almost envious of the world she lived in half the time. Those feelings were instantly swept away when she added that it only seemed more often because she felt comfortable escaping there more frequently in front of him. He tried to ignore the warmth in his chest at that confession, but he knew deep down he fucking loved hearing that shit. Knew that meant he was doing something right. 

He deliberately interrupted her reverie with a soft nudge as they neared his parents’ place. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

 

“Huh?”

 

She was giving him that puzzled look again. Simon smiled softly; he was usually pretty good about remembering to be more straightforward with his wording. “It means what’re you thinkin’ about?” 

 

Patty shook her head with a nervous giggle and a shy smile on her face. She was daydreaming—girlishly, she could admit—about Simon, about the two of them really, which seemed ridiculous to admit when he was right next to her.

 

She had never seen the ocean; her dad claimed yet another allergy to the saltwater which prevented any family vacations to the beach. And she was replaying one of her favorite scenarios where Simon would drop everything to drive her to either coast as soon as she asked. She enjoyed imagining the road trip, and motels, and junk food, and music, and scenery along the way. So she guessed it was less about the destination and more about the journey, but she still wanted to see the ocean at some point anyway. The "scene" he had interrupted specifically included Simon stopping off on an empty stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere and dragging her along the roadway to pick at wildflowers. And she wasn't quite sure Simon was the type to stop for flowers. He seemed more like the type to stop for like an old dive bar or between state lines just so he could stand in two spots at once. But this was her daydream after all, so she could imagine whatever the hell she wanted, even if it was a little out of character. That didn't mean she wanted to tell him any of that though. 

 

“Nothing important,” she muttered, rubbing her palm over her suddenly hot cheek. She knew Simon wouldn’t let her get away with just that, but she could try. 

 

And right on cue, Simon clicked his tongue. “Bullshit," he laughed, nudging her arm playfully. Patty rubbed the spot he poked while she blinked at him, trying to come up with something that was the truth but not too much of the truth. Maybe she was overthinking this. 

 

“It’s silly,” she insisted, trying to buy herself more time to think. She considered just telling him she was thinking about blowing him; that usually distracted him. But she was sure he could tell she wasn't thinking about sex by the way he interrupted her, and she didn't like lying to him anyway. 

 

“Not if you react like that when I ask you about it." Now he was curious more than anything. 

 

Patty sighed heavily, trying to rid the nervous energy simmering in her chest. “I was thinking about us."

 

Simon swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat and shifted in his seat. His mind was trying to steer him towards a rabbit he didn’t need to follow, and a hole he didn't need to fall down. He swiped his fingers under his nose before he gripped the wheel tighter. 

“What about us?” He tried to ask casually, but he knew it sounded anything but casual. He could see that Patty probably felt that too, so he grabbed her hand for safe measure, physically reassuring her he wasn't upset. He knew snapping at her was a sure-fire way of pushing Patty to shut down, burying whatever information he was digging for with her. 

 

Patty also shifted in her seat, cheeks turning from pink to red and melting down her neck. She knew Simon didn’t like when she avoided questions like that. “Have you ever seen the ocean?” There, that was easier to start with. 

 

Simon blinked and shook his head at the question, caught off guard by the change in subject. “Yeah,” he mustered. “Seen both the Atlantic and Pacific. You?” 

 

She shook her head, and a small smile spread across her lips. “No, but I want to,” she answered quietly, messing with the seams on her shorts. 

 

Simon looked her over slowly and felt himself grin; he could see where it all connected. “This what you were thinkin’ about?” he asked through a chuckle. She nodded sheepishly. Of course, he was sitting here already convincing himself she was fed up with his shit when, really, she just wanted to spend more time with him. He’d have to remind himself of this moment whenever his paranoia struck again. 

 

“Would you ever wanna go again?” she asked breathlessly. With me? her mind added, but she couldn't bring the words to her mouth though she wanted to. Simon may have never rejected her in that sense, but that wasn't to say she hadn't experienced it plenty of times before him.

 

Simon felt the corner of his lip come up, and he nodded. “Sure, Pats. Take ya wherever you wanna go."

He didn’t think she’d like the beach, brutally hot and overwhelming, and he had pretty good reason to assume she would hate the way sand would cling to everything incessantly. But, early mornings or early evenings? He could picture her then, with that brilliant smile on her face as her eyes cast over the crashing waves, or fluttering toward the sky as the gulls cried overhead, or even as they scoured the shoreline together for shells and other treasures. That sickly, gooey sensation was back, flooding his body, and it snatched him harshly from the pleasant images his mind had produced. He could see why Patty escaped to places like this; it was enjoyable. 

 

She grabbed his fingers and squeezed them tight before nodding her head fervently. Sometimes, it felt like he was reading her mind, and he was able to draw the right conclusions faster and better as each day passed. The way he could take one look at her and read her like an open book should have been more annoying. But it just felt like love to her. 

 

It seemed like their topic of conversation couldn't have had better timing; he needed all the extra cushion to prepare her for their location for the evening. He knew it would be offputting for at least the reveal. He wasn't necessarily fond of the place himself.

 

Patty looked out the window as Simon parked the car and peered down the street, snapping her head back to him. Her palms immediately went clammy, and her heart started racing. She wasn't prepared to see them. “Simon? Why are we here?” 

 

Fuck.

Even though he knew that initial reaction was a possibility, it still hurt him to see that look on her face. He reached out and placed his palm on her shoulder. “Hey, everything’s okay. They’re outta town. Thought we could record a song or two.” He perked his face into a wide grin, felt his heart thumping as her frown quickly blossomed into a gasp and a huge smile. 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Really really. C’mon. Let’s go."

 

They both rushed down the side steps as Simon lit a cigarette. Patty didn't bother hiding her excitement from him, bouncing from foot to foot as she waited impatiently for Simon to find the right key. She had known off the bat that whatever he had planned would be music-related since he requested her to bring her notebook, but she didn’t expect anything like this. She just assumed he wanted to fuck around like they usually did. And this was special to both of them. It warmed her insides to think of Simon taking his time to plan this for her. 

 

Patty smiled contently as he held open the door behind him for her. She loved revisiting her memory of their first time here together, before his family showed up at least. She treasured it, replayed it over and over in her mind. She even wrote poems and lyrics about it that she never sent to Simon. Now that they knew each other, some things seemed too raw to gush when she knew she’d have to look him in the eye again. There was a reason she purposely left out a return address on those letters back in the day. 

 

Patty shuffled around Simon standing directly in the middle of her path and threw herself down onto the bed, snagging the notebook out of her bag promptly. She wasn’t wasting any time; they had both written to each other about getting to do exactly this again. And now that the opportunity was here, she was ready. More than ready. Been ready. What was taking Simon so long? 

 

Simon found his room sitting exactly how he left it. Well, besides a dusting and the chairs scooched back to their original spots. Otherwise, his posters, instruments, books, vinyls, cassettes, equipment, everything had stayed in the exact same spot. Found himself smiling slightly at the sight of it all. It seemed like both ages ago and just yesterday that he had been here last. 

 

A testy little noise coming from Patty snapped him out of his nostalgia, and he shot her a smirk as he pulled out the seat at the desk, flipped on the equipment, and took another drag of the cigarette squeezed between his fingers. “You know, one of these days I’m gonna teach you the drums,” he exhaled, pointing at the set and raising a knowing brow at her. 

 

Patty’s restlessness came to a still as her face shifted to confusion. “But you said that I sucked?” 

 

Simon laughed heartily. “Oh yeah, you did. But,” he paused for another drag, “I know you got the rhythm for it. Watch you do it all the time,” he explained. “And, you’re shit at the guitar anyway, Pats,” he added with a chuckle. 

 

Patty wasn’t sure what to respond to first; his words and their potential meanings made her take an extra moment to process it all. “I’m not that bad at the guitar,” she protested, deciding to land on the more recent message.

 

“Yeah, you are. Your hands are too small,” he countered around the cigarette in his mouth, reaching into his backpack and throwing his notebook on the desk with a loud smack. He had watched her wrestle with it for long enough, tried to show her other ways to hold the neck or stretch her fingers, but it left both of them frustrated every time. 

 

Patty narrowed her eyes at him and huffed, but she knew he was right. Simon could be curt, but he wasn't a liar, not to her at least. She had struggled with it for so long, but she really wanted to give it a good try, knowing it would be better for her to pick up guitar so Sissy could focus on bass. She had to admit that she wasn’t really catching on even after six months of practice. Simon thought it was shitty of Sissy & Karen to ask her to do more, as if her lyrics and melodies and voice weren't enough. Patty insisted she didn't mind, wanted to even. And she wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet, so she picked a different point of contention to focus on. 

 

“What do you mean you ‘watch me do it all the time?’” she asked. She watched Simon stub out his cigarette and give her a perplexed look back. He looked back down at the cigarette butt and raised it at her. 

 

“If I asked you to put this out for me, I bet you’d do it like this,” he said, squishing the butt down then lifting it to tap it quickly into the ashtray a handful of times. Patty narrowed her eyes at him again. “You do that all the fuckin’ time, perfect triplets and shit too. Not everyone can get that down, trust me. Here, lemme show you,” he explained, moving his demonstration to the drumset. God, it felt fucking amazing to bang on those drums again. Forgot how much he missed it. 

 

“Simon,” she said quietly after he slowed down his rampage on the kit to be heard, didn’t realize he had gotten lost while fucking around. He wiped his forehead, feeling a sweat bead trickling down, and met her gaze. Her cheeks were flushed, and her shoulders were drawn closer to her ears than normal. Shit. He knew he fucked up.

 

“What?” He thought that was pretty fucking nice for him, all things considered. Okay, maybe he didn't have to be so blunt about the guitar shit, but he wasn't one to sugarcoat and she knew that about him. And he certainly never questioned her or pushed her on any of that quirky shit that she did, even when he really wanted to. Never told her to stop even when it was driving him nuts, though he usually found it endearing more than anything. He had managed to divide them into two categories: weird things Patty did when she was happy, and weird things Patty did when she was upset. The tapping drumming whatever thing usually fell into the former. Usually. 

It was one of the things he loved about her, if he really thought about it. But he couldn’t just say that, not now at least.

 

Patty blinked at him for some time as she gathered her thoughts. “Is this–are you being nice, or are you making fun of me?”

Simon’s face contorted into a look that was some combination of disgust and disappointment, swore under his breath, and shook his head. He set the sticks down and came to sit on the bed next to her, tucking a strand of falling hair behind her ear. He laughed then, which didn’t really put Patty at ease. 

 

“I thought I was being really fuckin’ sweet right then," he said through his laugh, gesturing at the drumset. "Guessin' that maybe that wasn't the case?” He asked genuinely, letting his hand fall to rest on her shoulder. Patty's lips pulled to the side, and her eyes fluttered. 

 

“I couldn’t tell,” she murmured. Patty had spent a lifetime of being teased or scolded for the things Simon was pointing out, and it was hard to not feel like her movements were under scrutiny. It was easier to release the tension she felt bubbling in her brain and body with bigger movements rather than the blinks, finger rubbings, and small shakes of her head or fists she settled for outside of the privacy of her own bedroom. She had gotten comfortable enough with Simon to express herself in ways that were more satisfying and relieving, but she was starting to wonder if that was a mistake. 

 

He sighed deeply, taking his hand from her and biting at his thumb. Trying to think of the best way to dig himself out of this hole he didn't even realize he backed himself into. “I think it’s cute, you know. Think a lot of shit you do is fuckin’ cute to be honest,” he started, thankful when her face started to show signs of a faint smile. “Which me thinking anything is ‘cute’ is fucking weird, by the way, so thanks for that,” he added, drawing a small giggle out of Patty. 

 

“I’ve been watching you do that for a while now, y’know…,” he demonstrated with his fingers on her thighs, a quick but forceful flutter of his fingers. It was the exact way she would do to him while he was driving, and, given her reaction, he was trying to pick the most subdued movement he could think of to demonstrate with. Most of her taps were a lot more forceful and dramatic than this, and they both knew it. And the weak smile she gave him in return just read to him that she was debating if he was still being a dick or not. 

 

“Fuck, I don’t care that you do that shit, Patty. I really just thought you’d enjoy the drums more, get the hang of it quicker.” He didn't mean to get snippy with her, caught himself just as he felt his voice start to raise, but he needed her to know it was all coming from a good place. He just cared. He hoped maybe she would see that he paid attention enough to find ways to play to her strengths. 

 

Patty nodded slowly as she absorbed his words, searching his eyes and lips and face for any trace of dishonesty that she couldn’t find, didn’t know if she’d be able to find even if he was lying anyway. 

 

“Okay,” she replied happily. And after a beat, added, “can I sit on your lap while you show me?”

 

Simon grinned a crooked smile at her. “You’re a bigger horn dog than me sometimes, you know that?” He pulled her in for a kiss, darting his tongue across her lip in some sort of apology. She accepted but only briefly and broke from him to meet his eye. 

 

“You didn’t answer my question." Her tone insinuated her agreement to his proposition depended on it. Simon laughed and shook his head.

 

“Fuck, you’re something else. Yes, Patty. 'Course you can. Now, do you wanna do this or what?” He gave her a nudge and nodded towards the mic, and she wiggled joyfully next to him, swinging her legs off the bed. 

 

“What did you have in mind?” She hoped they were both thinking the same thing.

 

A corner of Simon’s lips curled up. “You wanna do what we wrote in the warehouse a couple weeks ago?” He already knew how he wanted each part to go. He had stayed up late that same night and thought out a drum and bass line in addition to his chords. 

 

Patty nodded excitedly, flipping through her notebook to pull out the lyrics they had written. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him sweetly before taking her spot in the seat at the desk. This was her favorite part. And she intended on thoroughly taking advantage of her front row seating. 

 

Simon cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her a mischievous smile as he took his guitar out and plugged it in, watching her get settled in. "What makes you think you're gettin' off easy this time?" 

 

Patty shook her head at him. "What do you mean?" 

 

Simon took to tuning the guitar and jerked his chin back as a gesture to join him. She pulled her chair over and sat next to him. "Look, I know I was kinda being a dick earlier, but I know you can do the chords. They're real easy. I'm gonna show you." He handed her the guitar he just tuned and picked up his acoustic in exchange.

 

Patty took the instrument hesitantly. "Are you sure? I don't want to mess anything up." 

 

Simon looked up at her from the guitar. Okay, maybe he was a bigger asshole than he thought, fucking with her confidence like that. Maybe that's the shit Dan was talking about. 

 

"Fuckin' positive. No more than what you've done on stage. Promise. And if you fuck up, we'll rerun it til you get it right. We've got all night," he grinned and leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead. 

 

Patty was apprehensive, but Simon was right. The chords weren't anything complicated, nothing she had to bar or contort her hand uncomfortably to achieve. Simon was extra patient with her too, which she appreciated and honestly found incredibly sexy. She confidently told him she was ready, and he got up to press record for her. She didn't get it in the first take, but Simon encouraged her every step of the way, his feedback constructive and considerate in comparison to earlier. He even kept time for her by tapping his foot, so she wouldn't have to multitask. 

 

"That's it, babe. You got it," he beamed once they listened to the third recording together.

 

It took much restraint on Patty's behalf to not jump his bones right then and there, especially seeing how kind and patient he was with her during the process and just how excited he was once she got it. But she was sure he was going to make her wait until they were done recording at least. Simon didn't like to be deterred when it came to music. She wasn't sure if she was gonna make it that long though if he kept all this up. 

 

Finally, Patty was allowed to return to her designated spot in the basement as Simon took to his bass first. It took way more than 20 minutes this time around, which was no problem for Patty. She'd sit there and watch him all day if he'd let her. The song they wrote together was quite a bit longer anyway, and she definitely didn't mind when Simon decided after he ran the drum track back that he wanted to redo it. She made no attempts to suppress her happy squeal as he tore his shirt off before doing it again, resulting in an exaggerated eye roll from Simon. 

 

"Like you wouldn't do the same," she snarked. 

 

"Yeah, alright. Press record, would you?" 

Patty stuck her tongue out at him before hitting the button. She was getting past the point of restraining her obvious looks of hunger and desire she felt for Simon, simply didn't have the energy to maintain it anymore. She swayed and rocked back and forth on the chair while he recrafted the drumline. She loved the way he looked when he was really concentrating on something: the way he furrowed his brows, the little bit of fire behind his eyes, the way he’d clench his jaw every so often. Turned her into a puddle every time. 

 

Simon signaled to stop the track, and she quickly slammed her finger down along with the headphones as she made a break for him. Simon returned her fiery grin, opening his arms and welcoming her hop into his lap. He wasn’t expecting for her to fully straddle him, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise either. He had glanced over enough times to know that this was coming. And he fucking loved it.

 

“Mind the sweat?” He chuckled as she began to press quick little pecks across his face and neck. He knew he was drenched; he always was after a few minutes on the drums, let alone nearly 20. He forgot how much of a full body workout it could be. But Patty continued on her attack despite this, her dotted pecks turning into sharp presses of tongue and teeth on his neck. She rolled her hips just right against him too, making both of them moan in response. God, she drove him fuckin' crazy in the best of ways. They weren't done yet though, and, as much as he wanted to take this detour, he had to keep his eyes on the road in front of him.

 

“Quit it, Pats. Don’t you wanna hear how it came out before we run it?” He laughed, turning to press a peck to her lips and forcefully shoving the headphones in her hand. She gave him a fierce look above her glasses but eventually conceded, climbing off his lap and slipping them on. He smiled and shook his head as he came to join her. 

 

Simon kept an eye on her while they listened to the track, knowing she’d have a genuine reaction. Patty couldn't fake it if she wanted to. And her smile never wavered, nose never scrunched, eyebrows never surged forward at any point. He’d take that as a win. 

 

“Okay, you go first then. I’ll lay my track after,” he instructed once they exchanged approvals. He pressed another kiss to her cheek and snagged a cigarette, but Patty didn’t move. Simon raised an eyebrow and flipped a palm at her. 

 

“I thought we’d do it together,” she admitted quietly, and Simon smiled apologetically at her. There was no way he was getting up there and singing alongside her. With the way he was feeling tonight and with a song like that, that was crazy talk. But, even if he wanted to or could convince himself for her, they couldn’t. 

 

“My shit’s not that great, Pats. You’ll be able to hear us shuffling around, and I won’t be able to edit it all out.” Her frown persisted, but she got up anyway, pouting her lips out to him. He wrapped his palm around the back of her head and pulled her to him, tugging at her bottom lip before breaking the kiss. “There’s your good luck. Go ahead,” he insisted, pointing toward the microphone. Patty let out an exaggerated sigh but went up anyway. He could tell she was biting back a smile. 

 

Patty opened her mouth for the first verse, and Simon knew he was fucked instantly. It didn’t take long before he felt hot tears spring to his eyes, just like the first time they did this. She looked like a fucking goddess up there too, never mind the lyrics or melody or her voice. Now that he didn't have to play accompaniment along with her, all those gushy emotions hit him like a fucking truck, and he knew he couldn't even try to hide from them anymore. And the way she looked up at him, the grin and slight warble in her voice as she held back a giggle, really solidified it all, made it too fucking real. Fuck, he couldn't tell if this was the end of him or the beginning. 

 

Patty blinked open her eyes once the track ended, thankful to tug off the big, clunky headphones. Her eyes met Simon’s unrelenting gaze, mouth agape and starry-eyed. The cigarette pinched between his fingers had been long forgotten as it burned down to the filter. 

 

“Simon?” She giggled, hoping to pull him from his daze. She caught him staring plenty but rarely would she have to say something for him to break it. If anything, it was usually the other way around.  

 

He slipped off his headphones and dragged his palm down his face, swearing under his breath. 

 

“Was it bad?” She didn't try to hide the worry on her face as she tried to figure out what emotion was showing on his. “Do I need to do it again?” 

 

“Fuck no. Not at all,” he choked out, clearing his throat. He looked down briefly and sighed before extending his hand out and beckoning her to him. “C’mere,” he said softly.  

 

Whatever this was about was definitely nothing small, and Patty’s mind raced to figure out what could possibly be wrong. She gladly slid into his lap, curling her body up to his. 

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked again. She knew she didn’t sound that bad up there, not to warrant this kind of reaction. 

 

Simon took a deep breath and pressed his lips to her temple before burying his face in her neck. Her concern subsided for a moment as she tried to hide her smile. Simon rarely looked for her to comfort him, and she knew she had to get it right. She pressed her palm to the back of his head, rubbing lightly the way he would do for her. 

 

“You can tell me,” she said softly, echoing a phrase he seemed to say to her daily. It always made her feel like he was a safe space, and she hoped it felt the same way for him. 

 

“Gimme a second,” he grumbled into her skin. He pressed deeper into her hold, and Patty squeezed him tight in return, nodding her head against him. She knew what that was like.

 

Simon lifted his head, staring hard up at the ceiling and blinking back tears as he tried to gather the courage to finally spit it all out. He took her hand and met her eye, and it reminded him of why he was doing this all in the first place. “Fuck, I’m trying. I swear,” he laughed nervously. He shook his head and forced himself over the hurdle.

 

“I've been thinking about this shit for a while now, Patty. And watching you up there tonight, listening to that voice of yours, with this song that we made together, Jesus fucking Christ, Pats. It makes me feel like the luckiest guy on the goddamn planet honestly. I don’t know why you put up with my shit or stay, but I’m so fucking grateful. Really, I mean that. You mean so… so fucking much to me. Shit, so much of my life revolves around you now, and I gotta admit—it’s fucking terrifying sometimes. I swore I would never put myself in that kinda position. But it’s you, Patty. It’s-it’s always been you.” He took a much needed breath, leaning into the swipe of her thumb against his cheek. He thought back to when he first opened that blacked-out, sticker-covered envelope. He told the boys he thought he was in love jokingly then. If only he had known. 

“You know you make everything so easy too. Always so patient with me even when I don’t deserve it. Forgiving and open-minded and fucking everything that my life has been missing. I wake up, and I-I, fuck, I want to be here. You know how weird that is for me? Not only that, but I want to do better. For you. Because of you.” He felt his throat tightening around his words, and he stopped to clear his throat. He wasn’t sure when he flip-flopped from struggling to find his words to rambling like an idiot, but he’s sure Patty preferred the latter.

 

“And I know I’m shit when it comes to feelings and this kind of stuff, but you deserve to hear it. Deserved to hear it a while ago really,” he continued, watching as her eyes lit up and a small smile began creeping on her face. He couldn't back out now. 

 

“What is it, Simon?” She asked quietly, brushing his hair out of his face. 

 

He blew out all the air in his lungs and looked her in the eye, as hard as it was. "Fuck, Patty. I’m trying to tell you that I…that I fucking love you, okay?" 

 

Patty took a sharp inhale as the words left his lips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Simon could feel her smile against his shoulder; she was fucking radiating. 

 

Patty knew he loved her. It was more than evident in his actions and gestures, but she definitely underestimated how it would feel to hear the words out loud. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest, her stomach felt like she swallowed a whole bowling ball, and her whole body was suddenly hot. But she decided it was all in a good way. 

 

“Okay,” she agreed. Simon felt her nod back against him, and then he waited. When she didn't say anything else, he pulled back from her arms to look at her with pleading eyes, desperately needing reciprocation after confessing something that had torn him up for ages now, after being that fucking vulnerable. Felt like a guard dog finally exposing his underbelly just to not get any scratches. 

 

Patty smiled gently as she slowly processed the look on his face. “Do you want me to say it back?” She whispered sweetly. Last time it seemed like it overwhelmed him, and she had been doing a pretty decent job biting back those words since. She knew she wasn't perfect, knew she had slipped up a handful of times, and Simon had various, contradicting reactions to each of those instances which made the whole thing even more confusing. She wanted to make sure he wanted to hear it before she confessed it again. She didn't like putting him through the wringer, didn’t want those words to cause him turmoil. 

 

Simon nodded frantically, a short bark of a laugh leaving him as he looked down into their shared lap. As if he didn’t already feel pathetic enough. “Only if you mean it,” he qualified quietly, squeezing his eyes shut as seconds passed that felt like an eternity. 

 

Patty shook her head and took his head in her hands, turning him to face her head on. She had a wild smile and a fierce intensity in her eyes. “Simon, don't be silly. I love you too.”

And Simon could have sworn she was glowing in that moment. She dipped down to meet her lips to his, softly kissing him before pulling away to hug him tight. Simon let her hold him as long as she wanted too. 

 

He was shocked that his confession brought relief instead of panic, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It felt fucking good to say it out loud. He did love her. He had known that for a long time now. Guess he didn’t realize how much tension it was causing, feeling a muscle in his upper back relax as he processed the moment. He didn't prepare himself for it to feel like heaven instead of hell. 

 

“Sorry that took so long,” he grumbled, but Patty shook her head and smiled. 

 

“I don’t mind waiting,” she whispered back to him, nuzzling her nose against his. 

 

Simon bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve made you wait enough,” he blurted, in spite of his mind performing acrobatic tricks in failed attempts to keep those words to himself. 

 

Patty rolled her eyes. They’d already had this talk plenty of times too. “It bothers you more than it bothers me,” she replied with a sigh.

 

Simon opened his mouth to respond, but she didn’t want to dwell on things that weren’t an issue. “Now,” she interrupted, pressing another kiss to his lips. “It’s your turn to sing, and I get to sit and watch this time,” she beamed, giggling at Simon's shocked little smile. 

 

It was surprisingly easy for Simon to relax and laugh with her, segueing the moment smoother than he had anticipated, considering he had never said those words in this type of context to another person ever in his life. But, like he had said himself, she made everything seem like a walk in the park. 

“Oh yeah? You think about this before?” She’d written to him plenty of times about the roles being reversed. It was part of the reason he was so dead set on recording this song tonight. Wanted to give her everything she wanted. And Patty answered by diving her head into the side of his neck and giving him a sharp love bite. 

 

“Fuck, Pats,” he groaned, tilting his head to expose more of his neck for her, but she pulled back right when it was getting good. 

 

“Go ahead,” she giggled, hopping off his lap and waving her arms toward the microphone. It felt good to force him up there this time instead of the other way around. She even got a little rush having that slight bit of power. Okay, she could see where he was coming from a little more now. 

 

Simon grunted, but jumped up anyway, taking the extra step to smack her ass hard enough to get her to squeal before he slid his own headphones on. She glared at him, but she really didn't seem that mad when she pulled him in for another kiss. He walked up to the mic, grabbed the wrinkled paper of lyrics to refresh his memory, and cleared his throat before warming up his vocals. 

 

"Alright, run it." A point from Simon, a nod from Patty, and the track was rolling. 

 

As Simon counted and waited for his cues, a grating voice in his head had to remind him that she’d officially tossed him into the deep end, into new territory altogether. He’d never sung on a ballad, let alone with someone like this before. A kick of adrenaline flooded his chest down to his fingertips and weakened his knees, and he couldn't tell if it was from excitement or nervousness. He stole a glance up at Patty, lifting him from the comfort of the frayed notebook page, and saw her smiling so widely, so contagiously that he found himself matching it. Okay, that decided it. He was excited. 

 

Simon's recording went significantly quicker seeing as he only had a handful of lines, which was both a blessing and a curse for Patty. While she may have wanted to sit and gawk more, this did mean she could jump him sooner. She didn't care how much Simon wanted to finish the song; she was at her limit. She quickly pressed the stop button and made a break for him. 

 

“Whoa, hold on, Pats,” he chuckled as he caught himself from her attack, her arms wrapping and lips pressing anywhere and everywhere they could. Patty shook her head against him in protest and squeezed her arms around him tighter. He guessed it had been more than a couple of hours since his comment to her though to be fair, but they were so fucking close to being done. And he still had more in store for her after this. 

 

“Come on. Let me mix it first,” he said lightly, pulling her arms off of him only to be met with eyes of fury. It made him laugh, which only intensified her gaze. “Jeez, Patty. Don’t you want to hear the finished product? We're so close,” he chuckled.

 

Patty shook her head again and stomped her foot impatiently. “You don’t get to say what you just said to me and then do what you just did and expect me to be patient.” She poked him hard when she said it to make her point. 

 

Simon's jaw went slack for a moment before it turned into a smirk, and he brought her closer to him, slinging the headphones over to the desk. Maybe they were spending too much time together, because he was pretty sure he had said something pretty fucking similar to her only a couple of days ago. A small part of him wanted to be annoyed at her insistence on pulling them from the race when the finish line was not even a foot ahead, but he reminded himself he was the only one that saw it that way. He guessed she had a point too, telling her he loved her and then singing in front of her like that, like she hadn't written and talked about how much she wanted this enough. 

 

He'd give her what she'd wanted, but he was gonna do it his way. Per usual. 

 

He grinned teasingly as he backed her towards the bed. “Fine, but here’s the thing, Pats,” he paused as he pushed her back on the bed, caging his arms around her body. “I’m also fucking impatient, so I’m gonna do you a solid and get you off real quick, and we can pick this back up when I’m done,” he said firmly. Not that he didn’t want to do more with her, but he knew he would lose his focus too much, didn't want to lose the vision. And he needed to come home with a new tape of Patty. 

Patty nodded her head furiously before bringing her lips back to his, swiping her tongue against his lower lip. He chuckled against her and returned the passion, sloppily dragging his lips from hers, down her jaw and chest before tugging off the cute little shorts she had on. He left the pink and yellow striped panties on though. Patty bucked under his touch, and he cocked an eyebrow at her as he pushed her hip down hard with his hand. 

 

“So eager, huh,” he teased, bending down to kiss her tummy. He kept his lips above her waistline but let his fingers roam and lightly drag across her, never giving in to any real friction.

 

“Simon,” she whined as he moved his kisses down from her hips to her inner thighs, fingertips resting on the inside of the waistline of her panties. 

 

“Hmm?” He hummed as he nuzzled into the soft skin of her thighs and pressed his teeth into her, right next to the already yellowing bruises he had placed there days before. It was time for some fresh ones. She tried to jerk her hips away, but he kept her still under his grasp. He liked the way she squeaked when he bit a little too hard. 

 

“I thought you said you were gonna be quick,” she panted, annoyed. She reached her hands to the back of his head in an attempt to pull him closer, but Simon refused to budge. She tried shimmying her hips in his grasp, though she couldn't move much under his hands. Fuck, she needed more. This was beginning to feel like torture, and she was starting to think she should have been a little more patient. 

 

“Oh, yeah. I did, didn’t I?” He chuckled, tweaking an eyebrow and shaking his head at her. He could feel her desperation building under his lips and fingers, could hear it in the way her voice caught in her throat, and a part of him suddenly wanted to say fuck the vision. But he kept his composure. 

 

Patty held back a strangled sort of noise as she bit her lip and looked at him with needy eyes. She nodded her head gently. 

 

“Trust me,” he whispered against her skin, pressing his lips to the soon-to-be purpling bite mark then up along the seams of her panties. He made sure to reward her with a gentle press of his lips over the center of the cotton once she stopped jerking her hips at him. 

 

“Please, Simon,” she begged after several minutes, that felt like hours, of his fingers, tongue, and lips turning her into a puddle without ever getting any real friction between her legs. She was desperate, hands raking down the back of his head and writhing underneath his grasp. 

 

“Please what?” He kept his voice low as he pressed his lips back to her tummy, just under the button. He wrapped his fingers tightly in the band of her panties and looked up at her through his eyelashes for good measure. 

 

Patty huffed, puffing her lip out at him. He looked so handsome to her in that moment, between her legs with those long lashes and stormy blue eyes, but a part of her honestly wanted to smack that grin off his face. She was pushing towards frustration very quickly. “Touch me, Simon? Please,” she asked sweetly, breaking her best puppy dog eyes out for him. 

 

Fuck, with eyes like that, he had no choice but to oblige. He yanked her underwear down and dipped his tongue between her folds, swirling his tongue around her hole and up to her clit. He could tell from the damp cotton that she was wet, but he underestimated to what extent, groaning as he swiped his tongue over her again. He pressed two fingers into her slowly as he lapped, drawing a moan out of her that was music to his fucking ears. He grinned against her as he hooked his fingers upward and tapped hard and fast while he worked his tongue against her simultaneously. 

 

“Jesus, Simon,” she cried, sitting up at the onslaught of stimulation. “That’s so fucking good, don’t stop, please. Please, Simon, d-don’t–,” she begged, desperate moans and pants between her barely coherent words. Simon hummed against her in agreement, and that was all it took to send her over the edge, back arching and fingernails biting into his scalp. He kept his tongue steady against her and slowly pumped his fingers as she spasmed and whined until he felt her relax beneath her. 

 

He pulled his hands and face away, slapping the top of his thighs and giving her a cocky smirk. He took a moment to look over her, those flushed cheeks, blown eyes, and lazy smile always told him he did a good job.  “Was that not quick?” 

 

Patty rolled her eyes. “Once you got there, yes,” she grumbled, and he laughed, sliding up to plant a wet kiss on her mouth. 

 

“Alright, you sit tight. This’ll take a second, but it’ll be worth it,” he promised, giving her forehead a kiss before he hopped off the bed and made a break for his desk. He promptly stuck a cigarette in his mouth and threw his headphones on, determined to get to work.

 

Patty laid her head back against the bed and hummed. She felt a goofy smile come to her face, overcome by the rush of all sorts of fuzzy, feel-good emotions, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t think she could be any happier than she was in this moment.  

Notes:

tbh the next chapter is probably gonna take a sec to come out too just to be fully transparent lmfao

Chapter 5

Summary:

sorry y’all bout the wait & the word count on this one I did my best but I just be yappin’ sometimes lmfao

 

for those of u who aren’t zeppelin fans, there’s a song on physical graffiti (referenced in ch 3) called houses of holy and then there’s an album called houses of holy that’s referenced in this chapter. Just so there’s no confusion teehee also pls listen to the rain song if u havent ty

“Okay, think I got it. Come give it a listen,” Simon called from the desk. He tugged off his headphones, reached for a well-deserved cigarette, gave it a few seconds, but didn’t hear any sign of Patty stirring in response.

 

“Pats?” He leaned over to find her dozing: head lolled to the side, lips slightly parted, and her chest rising and falling slowly. Shit, guess he took longer than he thought. Blamed it on all the fine-tuning. Simon didn’t really have the ability to do anything casually or half-assed, especially when it came to something—or he supposed someone—he was passionate about.

 

He watched Patty for a couple of drags rather than waking her immediately, chuckling to himself as he noticed she didn’t bother to put her shorts back on. She wasn’t very cute in her sleep if he was being honest. Patty snored and hogged the bed and stole the blankets and drooled and made all sorts of noises while she slept. That didn’t mean it was all bad though. Awake and asleep, she was very physically affectionate, whether that meant grazing a pinky against his knuckles or wedging her ice-cold toes under his legs or wiggling her way until one of them was being held. She was gonna find some way to keep a hand on him no matter what.

And that took some getting used to: Simon initially found it comparable to falling prey to an octopus, the way she would entangle her limbs between his the moment his body sunk into the mattress. But it didn’t take long to grow on him either. Okay, maybe more than grow on him. Simon had found himself longing to hear the heavy fall of her breaths and craving the feeling of her arms around him more and more frequently, especially during his near constant bouts of insomnia and restlessness. Not even the best pills or weed or booze could put him to sleep and keep him asleep like she could. 

 

And Simon knew he wasn’t any fun to share a bed with either. Patty had never complained, but he knew he snored himself, usually talked and sometimes shouted in his sleep. He had been known to kick or shove another person off a mattress too, but thankfully that hadn't happened yet. The only comment Patty had ever made to him about it was that he looked like a baby alligator while he slept. And he still wasn’t sure what the fuck she meant by that, but she smiled so warmly when she said it that he had to assume it was some kind of a compliment. 

 

Simon stuck the cigarette in his lip and reached into his backpack for his papers, the fresh bag of bud he’d picked up, and a beer. He knew she was always particularly tuckered out on workdays, and he couldn’t deny he contributed to her exhaustion in more ways than one. He could stand to give her a few more minutes before waking her. 

 

Simon set the joint on the desk and moved to the bed, hovering over her as he contemplated how he wanted to wake her this time. He was really tempted to flop onto the mattress and jostle her awake, but he knew there was a 50/50 shot she’d wake up pissed instead of all cute and shit like she usually did. He wanted her sweet tonight, so he chose to gently climb into the bed, her leg already nudging towards him as he settled next to her. He shook her shoulder softly, and she squeezed her eyes tighter with a slight shake of her head and a little hmph of a noise. Simon snickered and gave her a rough kiss on the cheek to rouse her instead.

“Simon,” she whined, throwing her body to the side and snaking her arms and legs through his. Sometimes when she was the right amount of sweet and cuddly, he’d let her go back to bed. She hummed and nuzzled her head into his chest for good measure.

“Uh uh. You’re not gettin’ me with this shit this time,” he chuckled, though he couldn’t resist squeezing her tighter and pecking the top of her head. 

 

“What time is it?” she grunted, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands.

 

“S’only 10. You’ve been out for like 45 minutes," he guessed, assuming she passed out right after he was finished with her. 

 

She groaned and stretched and yawned before settling back against him and closing her eyes again. Only 10, she thought sarcastically in her head. 10 was her usual bedtime, and Simon knew that.

 

Patty almost found it funny how much their sleeping habits differed. She knew Simon had a hard time sleeping, and they both considered it a “good” night for him if he came to bed before 3 AM. On even better nights, Patty was able to lull him to sleep along with her, usually when she passed out on his chest or with her arms around him in a way he couldn’t move without waking her. He told her once her snores and cuddles were like an endless supply of benzos. She was too tired to ask what he meant by that, but she assumed it was a compliment and snuggled closer to him. 

On the other hand, they both considered it weird if Patty wasn’t fighting her sleep at the end of the day, inevitably getting grouchy if kept up past midnight. And while Patty may have wished that their sleep schedules overlapped for more than 3-4 hours at a time, the greatest benefit was getting to watch him sleep in the early hours of the morning when she typically got up. He looked younger and relaxed in a way she never saw when he was awake. And the best part of her morning routine when they slept together was getting to kiss him on the forehead and watching a corner of his lip curl up into a soft and sleepy smile. So she didn’t hate it by any means. Just found it inconvenient sometimes. 

 

Patty rubbed her feet together excitedly as she remembered the task at hand. She peeked open an eye at him with a small smile. “Did you finish mixing it?” 

 

He nodded, kissing the top of her head once more before unraveling from her arms. “Get up. Give it a listen,” he instructed, flinging her shorts at her playfully.

 

He rolled back the tape and handed her the headphones as she shuffled the chair closer to him. She settled into his side, leaning a sleepy head on his shoulder. 

 

“I think I need to add something else to my list,” she sighed contently as she pulled the headphones on. 

 

Simon felt his cheek give way to a small smile, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Think I got somethin’ to add to mine too,” he murmured and hit the play button. He didn’t miss the way she narrowed her eyes at him with a curious smile before shifting her attention to the song. 

 

Patty hadn’t been able to record herself or really hear her own voice since they had done this last, and she was truly surprised by how much fuller and stronger her voice was now. And she thought Simon’s voice was better, more tender in a way, than any of her PSYOPS tapes or vinyls. They had both been worried about how their varying styles of singing would end up meshing together, but she found the contrast between her and Simon to be the perfect balance. She noticed how he left in a verse where his voice cracked, where he could have easily retaken it, and there was no doubt in her mind he left it in there just for her. She knew she had mentioned she liked that at one point. Or, okay, maybe she had mentioned it several times. She wasn’t any good when it came to subtlety. 

 

As the song progressed, she felt a flood of contradictory emotions overwhelming her senses, gripping her tightly until she was made to feel like she was drowning. Most of them were good and warm and fuzzy which was enough to take her breath away on its own, but it was all wrapped in some sort of anxiousness or sorrow that she tried desperately to ignore. She pressed her thumbs against her fingernails and forced her attention on the music instead. She thought she was doing a really good job too until she felt Simon adjust her in his arms, shifting to look at her more head-on. He paused the track. 

 

“These are happy, yeah?” He ran his thumbs delicately over the two streaks running down her cheeks. 

 

Patty stared at him, confused at first, then felt her cheeks go warm under his touch as she realized she had let more than a couple tears loose. She opened her mouth but found that familiar, constricting feeling in her throat again. Where her ability to draw the words to her lips was switched off, like trying to wiggle an ear lobe or an individual toe—the function was lost. So she nodded instead and reached over him to press play on the track.  

 

Once the song ended, it took her a moment to slip off her headphones, eventually resting them gently on the desk. She brought her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. 

 

It was everything she could have dreamed of and more, and she needed him to know that. But that weird, bittersweet, longing feeling, like fire in her chest, burning her heart and blistering her lungs, was starting to overcome her again and overpower any joy she could feel over their collaborative efforts.

 

Without an external source to distract her, she couldn’t push it away anymore, and the realization hit her like a train: they had been here before. And while she was sure his mom wasn’t about to barge in on them, there was a little voice in her head reminding her of what happened shortly after they recorded last time. And that felt like a sucker punch, all the air forced out of her lungs at once. She didn't want to imagine it. Him leaving the first time was different; that was like yanking a barely sprouted seed out of the ground. If it happened again, she was sure it would feel a lot more like uprooting a tree, roots clinging underneath the surface and bringing the earth up with it. 

 

She pressed her nose deeper into his skin, turning her focus on him, on his presence instead. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat and a little bit of that woodsy scent in his shampoo, and she inhaled deeply, feeling the relief tumble through her veins on her exhale. She never wanted to forget how he smelled ever again.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered with a small smile. 

 

Simon stroked her hair. “Pats, it’s mostly you. Your lyrics, your voice. That’s what makes it—.”

 

She had been shaking her head against him from the moment he started to speak. “Simon, please. Not now,” she muttered, turning her head to the side. “Just let me say it.” She felt Simon’s arms tighten around her, and he nodded.

 

"You okay?" he whispered after he'd let more than a few minutes pass, once he couldn't squash down his concern any longer. Patty pulled back to look at him, studying him intently with an unreadable expression on her face that made Simon’s heart quicken. 

 

Patty opened her mouth, but she didn't know what to say to him or where to start: yes, no, I don't know. It's the best thing we've ever made together, but, Jesus, Simon, the last time we did this was the last day we spent together before you were gone for two years, and now I'm trying to not lose my shit? I thought this was everything that I ever wanted, but I'd rather have you over a tape? And I'm afraid if I say this out loud, you'll think I'm crazy? 

 

She couldn't say any of that to him. She knew that recording didn't lead to his subsequent arrest, but her brain was pointing out a pattern, and all the pieces were falling into place: their circumstances for being here were the same, the intensity of emotions she'd felt throughout the evening was the same, shit, even his room was exactly the same. 

 

Simon shook her shoulder, noticing she had left momentarily. “What’s goin’ on up there?” 

 

Patty brought her eyes back to his gaze briefly before she squeezed her eyes and shook her head in an attempt to shove the thoughts away. Simon already carried so much guilt and blame, and she didn't want to hurt him any more than he hurt himself over this. He didn’t deserve to get caught in the fallout of her own stupid brain. 

 

“You know it drives me crazy when you do this,” he smiled lightly, though she could see the worry deepen along his already furrowed brows. 

 

“I know,” she whispered back, avoiding his eye contact. She searched for some semblance of the truth that wouldn't crush him. “I want you to stay," she decided on, and she wished it didn't sound like a question when it left her lips. 

 

The immediate look of hurt on his face made her stomach drop to her knees. “Fuck, Patty. Have I done something that makes you think otherwise? Thought if anything all this would show you I’m not goin’ anywhere.” 

 

Patty shook her head furiously, scolding herself for saying anything at all. “No. It’s just—. I feel like, I don’t know. I—,” she frantically stuttered over her thoughts, grabbing at her shirt collar as that feeling in her chest was making it hard to breathe again. 

 

Simon watched her fluster, cheeks turning red, eyebrows pulling together, tears welling in her eyes again, hands flailing in desperation. He was on edge but not enough to not be patient. 

 

“It’s-it’s hard. I’m not—you didn’t do anything. Fuck, Simon—. I know you don’t—.” 

 

“Stop, hey. Take a deep breath. It’s okay to take a second, baby. Just breathe,” he interrupted her, placing a comforting palm on her shoulder.

 

She looked down at his hand and back at him as she felt herself come back into her body a little more. She was so grateful for his patience and understanding that she could have cried all over again. But she didn't. She took his advice instead and inhaled deeply, held it, and exhaled. She repeated it three times, rubbing her fingertips along her sternum and turning her focus to Simon's hand rubbing along her shoulder to help calm herself quicker. 

 

“Better?” he asked with a nod of his head. 

 

She nodded back but didn't say anything, didn't look at him. 

 

Simon snorted in frustration. "You gotta tell me what's goin' on, Pats. Can't make it better if I don't know."

 

Patty flicked her eyes up to his. He did look genuinely concerned, and he deserved the truth even if she knew it was going to hurt him. She took one last deep breath.

 

“The last time we did this,” she gestured around the room, “you were…Simon, you were gone not even a day later." She felt his hand flinch away from her, and she hung her head low, feeling a tear escape her eye. She wiped it away quickly and sniffled. “And I know you aren’t leaving again, I know that doesn’t make sense. You haven’t done anything, and I-I don’t think you want to leave either. My heart knows that. But my brain doesn’t, no matter how many times I try to convince it. And, trust me, I'm really, really trying to convince it."

 

Simon bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to gather his thoughts before speaking. He never stopped to consider this would bring back the wrong kind of feelings when he planned all this, only ever imagined her happy bounces and squeals in response rather than some sort of fucked up Pavlovian reaction that was surely crushing her heart as much as it was his. Fuck, he felt like more than just an asshole, he felt like fucking poison. Heard all those voices in his head chiming back in and reminding him that, no matter how hard he tried, he'd always hurt the people he loved the most. 

 

“Pats—.”

 

“It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay,” she interjected over him with several more shakes of her head, reaching for him again.

 

He let her swing her arms around his neck, but he didn’t fully lean into her embrace, keeping his palms on her elbows. He leaned back to look her in the eye. Patty claimed she didn’t mind waiting—and he believed that she believed that. But it wasn’t just that he had made her wait, he had left. Sure, he could sit here and argue that ending up in prison didn't count as "leaving" her in the traditional sense, but that would never take this part away: he still hurt her at the end of the day, even if it was unintentional. Even if she had forgiven him, there was a part of her psyche that couldn’t trust him. And that really fucking sucked. 

 

“This doesn’t seem like it’s okay,” he protested as softly and as gently as he could, tucking her hair behind her ear.

 

“It is,” she insisted. “Just, hold me? Please?” She shook her open arms at him again, a look of desperation on her face that broke his heart. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her tightly. 

 

“You know I’m really fucking sorry,” he whispered.

 

Patty shook her head sharply against him again, wishing she would have kept her mouth shut instead. The look of hurt on his face and the emotion in his voice were almost worse than the initial onslaught of emotions she felt. “I know. I’m sorry too.”  

 

Simon decided he'd make a point to see her every day for the next several days to help combat the involuntary doubts she had in response to recording. He really didn’t want whatever this shit was to be associated with creating and producing music together, especially not when he had every intention of doing it as often as they possibly could. She had dozens of his voice on recording, and he intended to grow his collection of hers too. If she'd let him. 

 

They sat like that until her breath evened out and she began to rock in his arms. She pulled back after a few sniffles and grinned widely like she hadn’t just said some of the most devastating shit to him. “Can we listen to it again?” 

 

Simon shook his head in disbelief, sliding the headphones back to her. He'd always be stunned by how quickly she could recover from shit like that. “'Course we can.” Simon downed the rest of his tall boy first, which he felt was more than warranted, and pulled his own pair on. Patty held him close, squeezing rhythmically with the song as it played through again. No tears this time, only smiles and giggles which he couldn't have been more thankful for. That reaction was more along the lines of what he expected. 

 

“Got another surprise for you,” he smiled softly. 

 

“Another?” He watched her face light up and felt his heart flutter in response. 

 

“It’s nothin’ crazy, so don’t get too excited. Let’s put somethin’ on first.” He motioned for her to follow him to his old, beaten-up record player along with several milk crates filled with frayed albums. He threw himself on the ground, kicking both of his legs out on either side of a crate and pushing another one towards her. 

 

“I know you like going through my shit, so have at it,” he chuckled, pointing for her to sit down and then at the crate he was referring to. 

 

Patty gasped and smiled widely at him. He was right; she loved when Simon let her go through his things. He had caught her snooping through his desk drawers one morning, initially only looking for something to write with, but ended up falling victim to her own curiosity. She found his preferred pens (or, assumed preferred based on the sheer quantity she uncovered), plenty of worn notebooks (which took lots of willpower to not flip through), so, so many lighters (why did anyone need that many?), little scraps of papers with barely comprehensible thoughts or lists scribbled on them, a couple of half full prescription bottles (one of which she recognized as something she was prescribed at one point herself), a nearly empty box of condoms, and some small tools. 

 

She was surprised that he wasn't mad when he caught her, snorting at her with a sleepy smile before he rolled over and went back to bed. When he finally got up, he dug an old shoebox out of the back of his closet and gave it to her. It was full of little kid treasures: dirty coins, rocks, matches, a couple of cicada carcasses she grimaced at, loose scout badges, a mangled Barbie head, a dull pocket knife, some weird metal loop thingy that he told her was a type of firestarter, and underneath it all was a newspaper clipping with a picture and article of Simon that he absolutely refused to let her read. He laughed and said he knew it was a box of junk, but Patty shook her head at him; she understood. She had her own boxes like this. 

 

Patty quickly sat where Simon directed and rifled through the stack with a big grin on her face. She began to giggle to herself as she flicked through them. She didn’t recognize a single one, and the outfits and crazy hair and weird album covers were only adding fuel to the fire.   

 

“What?” He barked, barely passing a glance up to her. 

 

“These are all so old,” she giggled. Simon gave her that look that she had come to know as his what the fuck did you just say to me face. It only made her laugh harder. 

 

“Oh, they’re old, huh? The one you got in your hand came out the year you were born. You think we’re old?” he argued, letting his gaze come back to the stack in front of him. 

 

Patty shrugged, jutting her bottom lip out as she glanced it over slower this time. “No,” she replied. He had a point, and there was no sense in lying to him. 

 

“You know, Pats, I didn’t take you as someone to judge a book by its cover.”

 

“Huh?” 

 

"Means to judge somethin' by the way it looks," he answered simply.

 

Patty felt her jaw drop, and she blinked rapidly as she processed what he'd said to her. Was she being judgmental? Yeah, guess she kinda was. She was already writing them off based on their appearance and age, and she supposed that wasn't fair. She brought her line of sight back to Simon just to be met with his teasing smirk. It seemed like he was fucking with her, but she knew he was definitely calling her out at the same time. 

 

“I trust whatever you wanna show me,” she answered decidedly. Patty knew she could be resistant to new things at times. She liked to listen to the same songs and albums and artists over and over again. She had her little zone, and she didn’t often stray from it, except when Simon made her. She liked most of what he’d shown her too. She just didn’t like that she didn’t have the beats and lyrics memorized, ready and expectant of each second of the song. 

 

“As you fuckin’ should. I have impeccable taste,” he boasted back. She smiled and rolled her eyes. She wondered if he knew she just thought it was funny when he said shit like that. 

 

She pulled out another album to look at and tried to suppress her giggles this time. What band would call themselves Sex Pistols? She was curious what they sounded like though. She wondered if it would be sexy. 

 

“If there’s anything you wanna take home with ya, let me know. Never mind showing you new things,” he said with a half smile, slipping out an album he thought would be good to play for the time being. Patty peeked over at the album cover, but her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

 

“Who’s that?” 

 

Simon took a deep breath and looked away for a second. He focused on sliding the vinyl out, flipping to the A side, and placing the needle to distract himself. Simon had all the patience in the world for Patty: there was never a question he refused to answer, or a definition he didn't mind repeating for the hundredth time. Sometimes though, when it came to music, it took him an extra moment to shove down his disappointment or frustration or astonishment. This was one of those rare moments. For the shit she did, he felt it was almost a disgrace she'd never heard of them. He couldn't let her know he thought that though. 

 

He managed a grin for her, deciding he was excited he was the one who got to show her and swallowing down any sort of passive-aggressive comment he would have made at anyone else. He dropped to the ground next to her, pecking her cheek and handing her the album cover to check out. 

 

“It’s proto-punk. The Runaways were badass, hot as shit too. They paved the way for women in the punk scene,” he explained, his tone gentle and informative. 

 

Patty took the cover graciously and found herself smiling as she scanned over the back to find pictures of the girls. They were very young and beautiful and talented, and she had a weird sensation of what felt like maybe envy towards them or what they had. She looked up at the player as the first song came on and began rocking along with the beat. She had to admit that she did like what she was hearing so far, and the fact that they were all women really struck a chord in Patty. She hoped she could be as cool and badass as they were. 

 

Patty blinked quickly as she realized she had gotten lost in thought. She passed a glance back to Simon, who was watching her with a soft smile, and then back down to the cover in her lap.  

 

“Are you wanting to have sex to this?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. 

 

He laughed and shook his head. “Nah, not to this one.” He almost thanked her for the reminder though. Simon returned to the crate he was thumbing through, slipping out his Houses of Holy album from the stack and setting it beside the player. He didn’t wanna fumble around for it later.

 

He went back to the desk and plucked the joint up, cracking open a fresh tall boy from his backpack while he was at it. Now that he didn’t have to get on the mic or edit and she seemed to be in better spirits, he felt it was a good enough time to start getting a little fucked up. 

 

He crouched down beside her and presented the joint. “You wanna smoke this with me?” he grinned. She had asked several times at this point, but he wasn't quite sure how the fuck she was going to react to weed. He knew she was getting frustrated with his refusals, but he wanted to make sure he had her one on one, that they were in a safe spot where she could stay overnight just in case shit went sideways. 

 

Patty raised her eyebrows and glanced between him and the joint before perking a small, inquisitive smile. She took it from his fingers and looked it over before nodding enthusiastically. 

 

“Is it like smoking a cigarette?” She always wondered what being high would feel like, especially considering she rarely saw her brother sober anymore. She had asked a couple times to join him and Danny, but Simon was set on making sure her first time was perfect. She didn’t know why it was such a big deal honestly. Kev smoked first thing every morning and went about his day just fine. She felt like he was babying her sometimes, as if her parents didn’t do that enough. But she knew that if she asked or said something to him he’d probably say something about caring or being protective over her, and, well, now that she was thinking about it, she wished she would have asked. The thought of those words went right between her legs. 

 

Simon shrugged. “Kinda. Makes you feel a lot different than a cigarette though,” he explained, standing back up and opening his hand for her. Simon led them to the back steps, leaving the heavy door open and the screen door closed, so they could still listen to the music playing over the speakers. He plopped on the steps and patted the concrete next to him. 

 

Patty hesitated before sitting down. “Does it taste as bad as it smells?” She really didn’t like how strong the odor was, and she didn’t particularly enjoy kissing Simon after he smoked a joint. She usually made him smoke a cigarette or drink the rest of his beer to get rid of the taste. 

 

Simon chuckled, pulling her to sit down next to him. “Personally, I like the taste,” he answered somewhat dismissively, but the look on her face told him he had to give her more than that. He tried to imagine what it was like his first time, but middle school was light-years away at this point, and his memories were very cloudy. Simon took a swig of his beer and elaborated, “I don’t think I really liked the taste when I first smoked, but it’ll grow on you.” 

 

Patty blinked at him slowly, mouth coming to a thin line at his insinuation that she would smoke enough to get used to it. Now she was worried if she didn’t like it, how would he feel? Was it a breaking point if she didn’t? Did a part of him welcoming her into his world include having to partake in every activity with him? Simon did a lot of things she didn’t judge him for or mind him doing, but she certainly didn’t want to do herself. 

 

Simon chuckled and swayed into her side, turning his head to meet her eye. “And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.” 

 

Patty sighed in relief, a nervous giggle escaping her throat. She was always grateful when he didn't make her vocalize her thoughts.

 

“Although,” he started, placing the joint between his lips and snagging his lighter, “a lot of people don’t always like it their first go around. I won’t ever pressure you, but I’ll leave it at that.”

 

Patty watched as he cupped his hand around the flame and sparked the end of the joint. She observed him closely as he sucked it in and blew out the smoke smoothly, smacking his lips a couple times in between drags. “Pretty tasty bud. Just picked it up today,” he said, handing it to her. 

 

Simon left out the part that when he was at Albert’s he picked up more than weed. He made a point to steer clear of any powders, but he needed to start making cash one way or another—just selling his plasma wasn’t gonna cut it for much longer. And this was the way he knew best. He didn’t want to worry Patty with any potential legal issues. He knew how to not get caught, and he really wanted to save up to get his own place sooner rather than later. Not that living with Dan was awful, but he was a grown ass man that wanted to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted and not have to pay mind to his goody two-shoes little brother. He’d tell her eventually; he found it increasingly uncomfortable to hide shit from her which sucked. He just needed to ease her in a little more.

 

Patty inspected the joint intently, locking in on how different the cherry looked from a cigarette. She ended up looking too closely at the end of it and smoke wafted into her eyes. She was struck by the burning sensation and handed it back without hitting it, pushing her glasses up and rubbing the back of her hands against her eyes in search of relief. 

 

Simon bit his lip, quieting his laughter into a poorly restrained chuckle, as he took the joint from her and rubbed her back lightly. “Yeah, gettin’ smoke in your eyes is always gonna hurt, baby.” 

 

Patty pouted her lips at him and narrowed her eyes once the burning subsided. “Be nice to me,” she retorted. 

 

Simon huffed a small laugh and swung his arm around her shoulders. “I am being nice. Do you wanna see what it’s like when I’m mean?” 

 

Patty shook her head quickly, clearly not picking up on his joking tone. “C’mon, Pats. Act like you know me. Here. Try it,” he said, nudging the joint back to her. 

 

Patty took it reluctantly, bringing it to her lips and drawing the smoke into her mouth and down her lungs. She was instantly caught off guard by how much harsher it was than a cigarette, and the taste only added to the intensity. She immediately sputtered and coughed hard, head swinging down between her legs, and shoved the joint at him. “I don’t think I like that,” she panted between coughs. 

 

Simon chuckled as he took it from her and patted her back. “Catch your breath then decide,” he replied, taking another long inhale and leaning his head back to exhale up into the sky. 

 

When her coughing didn’t settle, Simon tried to hand her his half-empty beer to wash it down. But she shook her head and waved her hand at it. 

 

“I can’t drink alcohol on my medications,” she managed between harsh coughs. 

 

Simon rolled his eyes playfully. “A sip to ease your throat isn’t gonna hurt none,” he reasoned, but she shook her head again. 

 

“Still can’t believe you’re fucking twenty-two years old and still haven’t had a single drop of alcohol,” he chuckled with a shake of his head and another sip of his beer. 

 

“I’d have to not take my meds for a day, and I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she admitted, still coughing lightly. 

 

Simon raised his eyebrows and nodded. He still had no clue what the fuck they had her on and why. He was sure some of it was justified, but he was also more than curious about what she was like without the pharmaceutical cloud she was forced to endure daily. They had her on some heavy fuckin' doses, there was no denying that. He couldn’t help but wonder if 5 different medications were really necessary. She did always seem more alert, definitely way feistier, maybe a little more emotional when she took her meds later in the morning. He dropped it though. It was a subject he was treading lightly around for now. 

 

“Yeah, okay. Hold this.” He handed her the joint and went into the basement to take out the box of sickly sweet cherry-flavored juice she insisted on drinking out of his backpack, glad he had the foresight to pack it for her. And it was more than worth it to see her wiggle and smile when he returned with it in hand. 

 

Simon plucked the joint from her fingers and enjoyed a few extra puffs to himself before nudging it back over to her, and he was happy to see that she would try again. “Take it easy this time,” he warned, and he bit back a smile as she shot him what read as a pretty annoyed glance. He wondered if she knew he just thought it was cute when she looked at him like that. 

 

He watched as she placed it back to her lips, could see her try to choke the smoke down, but she ended up coughing as hard as the first time. She thrust it back to him almost immediately. 

 

“If it’s too harsh for you, we can try shotgunning it instead,” he offered with a wink. 

 

Patty shook her head and pinched her brows together. “What are you talking about?” 

 

Simon raised a single eyebrow and cracked a half smile. “C’mere.” He motioned for her to scooch closer to him, and she gave him a weird look before abiding. "Want you to breathe in when I breathe out," he instructed and waited for her eventual nod. He pulled the joint back to his lips, taking a long drag, wrapping his hand through the back of her hair, and pulling her closer until their lips grazed. He cupped her jaw, squeezing slightly between her teeth to signal her to open her mouth, and tilted her head just right, exchanging the smoke between their mouths. He was able to slip his tongue in briefly before Patty jerked away to cough. When her eyes came back to his, they were glimmering.

 

“That was weird,” she announced, looking over Simon with a curious grin. “Do it again,” she giggled, and he smirked as he pulled her onto his lap. 

 

Now that she knew what to expect, she eagerly took the slightly less harsh smoke into her mouth before slipping her tongue against his, rocking her hips as the kiss deepened. The taste was easier to handle this way too, and honestly, she loved having any excuse to feel his tongue against hers. 

 

“You’re a quick learner,” he laughed as they broke apart. 

 

Patty bounced happily in response. “Can I try it on you?” she asked, already plucking the joint from his fingers. 

 

“Anything you want,” he replied with a teasing smile. 

 

Patty raised her eyebrows and nodded. It seemed like maybe he was referring to more than whatever he called this way of smoking, and she would gladly keep that in mind. 

 

It took a couple of attempts for Patty to get it right, but, when she did, Simon melted under her touch, groaning into her open mouth as she ground her hips down against his and yanked his head to the side to get a better angle. They pulled from each other, echoing each other's laughter while smoke oozed from their mouths.

 

“I’m gettin’ kinda dizzy,” she giggled, climbing off his lap and pressing herself up against the brick wall. She threw her legs over his lap and lifted her gaze to the night sky. His hands came to rest on her shins, rubbing mindlessly with an easy comfortability that he was still shocked to find he was capable of.

 

Simon kept the dwindling joint to himself for a while. By the looks of it, she’d had enough to get her higher than he’d get if he faced the whole joint to himself. She was silently blinking up at the sky, rocking gently back and forth, and her eyes were already glossy and pink. 

 

“How’re you feeling over there, kid?” He chuckled, wiggling her knee to grab her attention.  

 

Patty slowly lowered her chin to look at him, lips pushed to the side as she thought hard about how to answer his question. She didn’t know how she was feeling; she had been completely lost staring up at the sky that she had to come back to her body to check in. Just as she was getting a handle on herself, he handed her the joint again which she put to her lips briefly and handed back again once she realized she had sent herself back to square one. 

 

“What did you ask again?” 

 

Simon laughed in a boyish way she hadn't really seen before, made her giggle too. “I asked you how you were feeling,” he reminded her gently. 

 

“Oh, yeah,” she nodded, eyes turning upward as she returned to her mind. He hoped she came back this time. 

 

“Like, um… it feels like there’s a big block in my head? And all my thoughts have to push around it to make it to the front,” she spoke after a good minute of contemplation. 

 

“Yeah?” He smiled. “Tell me more.” 

 

Patty’s head swam a bit as she swiveled between the night sky and his gaze, but she was more overcome with how everything she looked at seemed to be through the lens of some really expensive movie camera. She suddenly wished she had her Polaroid. She wanted to capture everything about how this night looked from the stars to the state they left the basement in to Simon’s easy smile and heavy eyes. She even wanted to take a picture of the two little rocks sat at the end of the steps. 

 

“Everything looks prettier too. Almost like in a movie,” she giggled, and then leaned in to poke the tip of his nose, “especially you.” 

 

Simon perked an eyebrow with a little stunned grin. “Don’t think you’ve ever called me pretty before."

 

“Well, I’ve definitely thought it,” she replied surely. Simon had to shake his head to move past it for now. He wondered what else she thought about him that she kept to herself. 

 

He took another puff and handed it to her, but she waved her hand at it, clearly still deep in thought.

 

“It’s like someone turned down the volume on everything. I can barely hear all the background music and noise up there too,” she added with a shy smile. Patty hadn’t gotten into this part with Simon, but there was always something “playing” in her head. Usually it was music, whether of her own creation or someone else’s, and, when it wasn’t music, it was either some catchy phrase that repeated endlessly or some sort of staticky filler noise she had never been able to turn off. She had been diagnosed with tinnitus, but she didn’t think the doctor understood what she was getting at. The noise didn’t come from her ears, it came from her mind. 

 

Simon raised an eyebrow at her and nodded. He knew what it was like to have a loud mind. He got into fits of rage or anxiety or depression where it felt like 18 different people were talking and shouting and whispering all at the same time. But only when he was in a heightened state. By her statement, it seemed like maybe her head was like that all the time. And if it was, he thought that actually explained a lot. 

 

“Yeah? Is it always loud up there?” he pressed lightly. 

 

Patty slowly smiled and leaned her head back. She debated on shrugging him off like he would do to her every now and again when she poked a button that was more sensitive than he’d led on, but she felt her mouth moving before her brain could catch up. “Yeah, you have no idea,” she laughed, turning her gaze back to the sky to make the conversation more comfortable.

 

“Hey, I might get it, you don’t know,” he chuckled, tapping her shins as he spoke. “Shit runs rampant up here all the fuckin’ time. Kinda why I like smokin’ this shit. Makes it a little easier to deal with my head,” he said, squeezing her thigh. 

 

Patty nodded, not breaking her gaze from tracing the visible constellations. “I could see that,” she replied eventually.  

 

He waited to see if she'd say anything else, but Patty was far more comfortable in silence than even he was. He poked again. “You do know there’s nothing you can say that’s gonna shock me, right? Can always talk to me about whatever." And she finally brought her sights back down to him, giving him a puzzled look. 

 

“Of course I know that, Simon,” she said through a half giggle. “I wouldn’t have called you from work last week if I thought you couldn’t handle it.” 

 

Simon felt a corner of his lip curl up, unable to hide how good that felt to hear. 

 

“It’s how I knew you were…different,” she added thoughtfully. 

 

Simon took another hit to brace himself. “Different how?” 

 

Patty shrugged, smiling shyly and looking away. 

 

"C'mon, spit it out. You'd make me say it too," he chuckled, elbowing her gently. 

 

"Yeah," she sighed, and he raised an expectant brow at her. "I don't know, Simon. You don't-you don't make fun of me for it," she started, looking down at her lap as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I'm not used to someone, like, actually listening, y'know?"

 

Simon smiled softly at her, reaching to grab her hand. Her reaction to his comments about her tapping started to make more sense, and he nodded at her to keep going. 

 

"It's like not only do you listen, but you...you care about what I have to say?" she continued after a moment of reflection, her inflection perking into a question as she tried to pinpoint her exact reasons. "And you treat me like a real adult too—not like some baby," she muttered. 

 

He waited to see if she'd say more, and, when she didn't, he had to point out the obvious. 

 

He sucked in a breath and patted her knee. “Patty, I hate to tell you this, but that’s like bare minimum shit right there.”

 

Her eyes snapped from the sky back to his quickly. “It is?”

 

“Fuck. I mean, kinda, yeah,” he confessed, giving her a sort of apologetic smile. Kinda broke his heart right there. He could have reveled in her adoration and let her live in blissful ignorance, but everything she listed was what Simon considered being a decent human being. It shouldn't be what made him "different." He watched as her eyes blinked and darted as she processed it all, and he was surprised when a smile came to her lips rather quickly. 

 

“Okay, then I mean good instead.”

 

“Instead of what?”

 

Patty giggled in a way he knew she was pretty fuckin’ baked, made him laugh too. “Instead of different. Then what I said is what makes you good,” she qualified. 

 

“Jesus Christ, Patty. I don’t know about all that,” he laughed nervously.

 

”Well I do,” she replied surely with a smile.  

 

"Ripping my heart out tonight, you know that?” he chuckled, trying to absorb the bizarre mix of feelings and emotions she had thrown at him. Thank god, he’d hogged most of that joint, was on his third beer. Made it easier to land and move past. 

 

Patty giggled and smiled lazily at him before turning her gaze up to the sky again. Simon leaned back against the step, tapping on her shins to the last song on the A side and enjoying the warm breeze and the weight of her legs on his and the sound of the crickets and cicadas and Patty’s breaths next to him.

 

“Hey Pats?”

 

“Yes Simon?” 

 

“Just glad you’re here.” 

 

Patty gasped and smiled at him, leaning forward with her hands reaching toward his face. “Come here,” she giggled, and he met her halfway, letting her cup his cheeks and forcefully bring their lips together. 

 

“I’m glad you’re here too,” she giggled as she came to rub her nose back and forth against his. 

 

“C’mon. Let’s head back inside,” he said, jiggling his knees under her legs still spread across his lap. She swung them off with a giggle and a smile and rose to join him inside. 

 

Simon made his way to his player, flipping the vinyl over and popping open a fresh beer. He was starting to feel the pleasant mix of the buzz from the beer combined with the high of the weed, muscles loosening, his thoughts slowing down, and his eyes moving faster than his head. The perfect sweet spot. He’d nurse this beer to keep him from going too far over the edge. He crawled into the bed next to her.

“Hey Simon?” She cocked her head towards him, pushing up her glasses with a warm smile on her face. 

 

“Hm?” 

 

“Will you play with my hair?” she asked sweetly, her voice a warble from the permanent giggles. 

 

“Of course, baby. C’mere,” he replied, opening up his arm and patting his lap. 

 

Patty immediately wrapped around him, head facing towards his body on his lap with her wrists curled under her chin. Simon carded his fingers through her hair, lightly scratching at her scalp the way he knew she liked. She hummed and closed her eyes, a content smile stretching across her face. Simon couldn’t look away even if he wanted to; she looked fucking precious. Wished he had the damn Polaroid, and, for once, he only wanted a picture of her smiling so sweetly against him. Clothes on and everything. 

 

He brushed his fingers a little harder, a breathy moan escaping her throat that went straight to his dick, and he shifted her in his lap to get a little more comfortable. Patty squinted her eyes open at him and giggled, nestling her head against his thigh and pressing a little kiss to him. 

 

“Sorry, you sound fuckin’ hot right now,” he chuckled. 

 

Patty responded with a giggle, another groan humming in her throat. She supposed she was the only one who had gotten off, and she was flattered that he’d get hard from her little noises. She started thinking about his fingers again, how great they felt everywhere, but especially when he did that thing that she loved, always made her see stars when he tapped that little spot. 

 

“Simon?” Her eyes fluttered up to meet his. He grunted in response.  

 

“Remember when you told me everyone has a gspot?” 

 

Simon quirked an eyebrow and felt a crooked grin come to his face. He expected to have this conversation sober but now was as good of a time as any he supposed. He hoped that she’d remember it.

 

“Yeah, of course,” he replied. 

 

“Where’s yours?” she asked, her head tilting slightly in his lap.  

 

He tried to hold back his giggles, especially for as serious as she looked right now. Simon placed a peck on her cheek and motioned for her to get up. He reached over to light a cigarette and, as calmly and as seriously as he could, tried to give a halfway decent description of where and what his prostate was without being too graphic. He didn't want to turn her off to the idea. 

 

“In your butt?” she whispered, with no hint of a giggle or smile, just serious.

 

Simon nodded with a chuckle. “Yeah, Pats. That’s what I’m trying to get at.” 

 

Patty nodded slowly, then sat up a little straighter and looked him up and down. He didn’t bother to say anything, could see her brain working through the information by the look on her face. He kept his eyebrows raised at her expectantly, waiting for the inevitable question. 

 

“How do you know that?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. 

 

Simon smirked and shrugged. “Not that I haven't done that shit with women, but the first guy I fucked showed me it." 

 

“Huh?”

 

He took a long drag off his cigarette, enjoying the look on her face for a moment longer. "I'm not picky, Pats. Been with chicks, dudes, anyone in between." 

 

Patty nodded her head slowly as she sorted through the information, “Oh.” Everything suddenly clicked, and she didn't need any further clarification. “That makes sense.” She went to lay her head back down, but Simon stopped her, resting a heavy palm on her shoulder. 

 

“The fuck you mean ‘that makes sense?’” He had thought about a hundred different reactions she would have to the information. “That makes sense” wasn’t fucking one of them. 

 

Patty shrugged. "I didn't know that liking both was an option." 

 

"Jesus Christ, of course it's a fuckin' option," he pinched the bridge of his nose, not bothering to correct her on the "both" part of her statement while he let his initial irritation pass. He felt himself laughing soon after though. If he had just met her, he would have taken her response for avoiding the question, but he knew her well enough now to know that wasn’t the case. "I meant why does it make sense for me?" 

 

Patty narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, you told me you had a thing for ‘dyke bitches,’ and I didn’t know what that was, so I asked Sissy & Karen, and they said that was girls who liked girls but kinda looked like boys,” she replied easily with a shrug. 

 

Simon stewed for a moment. He was pissed. Not because of her reaction, but because Sissy & Karen took all the fucking fun out of this for him. He had looked forward to being the one to explain it to her. 

 

“I’m not upset,” she said gently, placing her hand over his. She remembered how Sissy & Karen both had weird reactions to it while Patty didn’t hate the image that came to her mind when they described it. She allowed her imagination to go wild that evening when she got home. She didn’t expect some of them to be right. 

 

“Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered with a devious grin. Simon knew it had to be something good. 

 

“Shoot.”

 

Patty gave him a confused look, and he swirled his hand in a notion to go on. 

 

“I think it’s hot,” she admitted, barely able to keep a straight face from what felt like endless laughter. 

 

Simon gave her a shocked smile. “Oh yeah?" 

 

Patty nodded quickly. “I like to imagine you kissing a guy sometimes,” she giggled back, and Simon raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t that bad that Sissy & Karen had already told her. Gave her time to form some kind of opinion. It was certainly better than being disgusted or turned off, but he had a feeling Patty would have been intrigued one way or another. 

 

“And where are you during this?” 

 

Patty narrowed her eyes at him, confused. She hadn’t ever inserted herself in these visions, only because she hadn’t thought to. “Watching?” 

 

Simon shook his head and snickered, “Of course, you little fuckin’ voyeur. Anyone in particular?”

Patty felt her nose scrunch up. “What’s a voyeur again?” 

 

“Means you like to watch.” 

 

Patty’s lips turned downward as she shrugged and nodded, making Simon throw his head back to cackle. “You’re not gettin’ out of my question though, Pats,” he grinned as he came down from his own fit of laughter. 

 

Patty placed her finger to her lip as she weighed the pros and cons of divulging such information. Usually, it was a faceless guy, and she could tell him that. But that didn't seem as fun. “Promise you won’t be mad?” she giggled. 

 

Simon rubbed his palm down his face in exaggeration. He had become more attuned to Patty's thought processes overall, and that was that she could be unpredictable as hell sometimes. And he had a feeling this was one of them. “Pinky,” he sighed, throwing it out towards her. 

 

She grinned mischievously and wrapped her pinky around his. “Danny,” she said, trying to keep her face straight and failing as she erupted into giggles again.

 

“Fuckin' gross. Don't joke about that, Patty," Simon laughed, shoving her shoulder playfully. "Now tell me for real. I know you got somethin’ cookin’ up there.” 

 

Patty curled her lips inward and nodded. He was right. 

 

“Donnie,” she answered finally. 

 

Simon raised his eyebrows and scratched the back of his head. He started to say something but shut his mouth and shrugged. “You’re not that far off,” he landed on. 

 

Patty blinked slowly at him, jaw slightly dropped, and fingers tapping along his thigh. The idea of what she considered a crazy fantasy being real was mind-blowing to her. “What do you mean?” 

 

Simon dragged on his cigarette long and hard before putting it out on the ashtray next to his bed. “Don and I haven’t fucked by any means, but we’ve shared, you know.” 

 

Patty shook her head. “I don’t know.” 

 

Simon sighed and smiled at her. He wasn't sure how she'd react to this information. “We’ve shared a handful of girls at the same time. Done a little bit with each other but nothin’ crazy. Like Donnie and all, but he’s not really my type. And for having a dick, he sure as hell doesn’t know his way around one.”  

 

“How does that work?”

 

“How does what work?”

 

Patty giggled shyly. “Sharing…girls?” 

 

Simon shook his head and tucked his bangs out of his face. “Is this somethin’ you really wanna know?”

 

“Well, I’d like to imagine it,” she replied matter of factly. 

 

“Fucking Christ, of course you do," he chuckled, reining the laughs back in when he caught her impatient glare. "Depended on the chick. Sometimes we'd take turns. Other times one of us would take the mouth, and the other would take the hole," he answered brashly. 

 

Patty’s eyes widened as she tried to picture it all. “That seems like a lot.” 

 

“Can be.” 

 

“I don’t think I’d want to do that.” 

 

“Fuck, I’d hope not,” he chuckled. 

 

Simon was suddenly overcome with feelings of jealousy, almost teetering on anger at the idea of someone else getting their grubby fucking paws on her. That was something new; he felt possessive over Patty, sure, but there hadn't been any scenarios where it would have shown its extent to him. Maybe it was the booze riling him up, and he blamed that on his loose lips too: 

 

“Don’t think I could stand to share you with anyone. Especially fuckin’ Donnie out of all people,” he grumbled. 

 

Patty wiggled happily in response, sighing against him. “Good,” she agreed. She didn’t mind the little scenes in her head, but the idea of actually sharing him with someone else broke her heart. “You’re the only one that I want,” she continued her thought out loud, swinging her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. 

 

Simon smiled as he nestled his head against hers. He felt her fingers come to his wrist, dropping his hand on the top of her head again. He barked out a well-needed laugh and took the not-so-subtle hint. He continued to rake his fingers through her hair.

 

“Simon?” she asked after a spell, the record having come to an end that left them in comfortable silence. 

 

“Yeah, baby,” he murmured. 

 

“Is it a problem that I don’t have a penis?"

 

“Not at all,” he assured her, smiling at her concern. “We’ll get you a fake one. You can pick it out and everything,” he chuckled.  

 

“Huh?” 

 

“A strap-on, Pats. Exactly what it sounds like," he teased, undoing a knot in her hair carefully. Patty groaned at the tug, nuzzling closer to his chest. 

 

“Oh,” she chirped after she had time to put his words together. It wasn’t something she had ever considered before, and she didn’t hate what she was envisioning. 

 

“Oh?”

 

“Sounds fun,” she giggled, feeling Simon's chest vibrate against her cheek as he laughed with her. 

 

Patty sighed contently and let her eyes close as he continued. She could feel Simon shifting restlessly underneath her, and she began to drag her fingers slowly up and down his thigh. She felt so warm and relaxed and every touch was so intense, she was already growing desperate to have his fingers elsewhere. Felt it in every inch of her body, unrelenting and tugging at her.

 

She quickly pulled from Simon’s grasp, groaning when his fingers snagged and pulled on her hair, and climbed on top of him. She caught Simon’s curious smirk as she grabbed onto a handful of his grown-out locks and hastily pressed their mouths together, narrowly avoiding their teeth clinking at the force. 

 

The ferocity with which she kissed him made Simon let out a small chuckle against her lips which ended up being entirely too contagious. Patty pulled back as her own giggles overtook her, resting her head on his shoulder, and laughed until she felt tears spring at the corners of her eyes. 

 

“Sorry,” Patty squeaked out as the giggles began to wane. 

 

“Don’t be,” he managed. He slid his hands up and over her ass to grip firmly at her hips. 

 

“I’m just excited,” she giggled, their noses brushing as she leaned forward. 

 

“You wanna try it again?” he offered, rocking her hips across his lap as he leaned in closer. 

 

She nodded and met him halfway, sliding her tongue against his with barely contained fervor. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he guided her hips back and forth on his lap, moaning when he slowly rolled her all the way forward on his lap. But Simon broke the kiss right after, and she whined in response to the loss. 

 

“Lemme put on another album. Wait here,” he murmured against her, surprised when she didn’t resist and pulled her legs from around him. 

 

“Okay,” she grinned, wide and cheesy, her eyes no more than a slant. “What did you pick?” 

 

“Another Zeppelin album,” he replied flatly, feigning indifference, like he hadn’t meticulously selected this album. He polished off what was left of his beer to build back his confidence. 

 

Patty didn’t realize how big of a fan he was of them until this moment she supposed. After she had given him shit for it last time, Simon extended his rant into the following day, showing her what he did have memorabilia-wise at Danny’s. She recalled the way his eyes danced over the image of the band that he had shown her. She thought it was outdated and goofy looking, but Simon kept his eyes fixated for quite some time, particularly on the shirtless singer with extremely tight pants. Patty personally thought they were uncomfortably tight, both to wear and to see. 

 

“Simon?” 

 

“Hm?” He didn’t bother turning around as he put the other album away. 

 

“Is Robert Plant like your music boyfriend?” 

 

He stood up straighter and slowly turned to her with a smirk. “Patty, everyone has a crush on Robert Plant. He’s Robert Plant.” 

 

“I don’t,” she shrugged. Simon cocked an eyebrow at her as he slinked back to the bed, caging her between his arms. 

 

“Okay, yeah. Maybe I do. But I didn’t put this shit on because I got the hots for the lead singer, Pats. Hope you know that,” he chuckled, pressing his lips to her neck and sucking where she liked. 

 

“Mmm, what?” she murmured, entangling her fingers in his hair. 

 

Simon pulled back and met her eye. He wanted to be frustrated, but he knew it was his fault for beating around the bush. “This is me being romantic, Patty,” he explained, gesturing to the player. 

 

She blinked at him for a few moments before she smiled widely and threw her head back to giggle again. 

 

“What?” he barked. If she felt that strongly about the music selection, she could just tell him. She didn't have to laugh. 

 

“That’s-that’s really sweet, Simon. Sorry, I don’t think it’s funny. I just, I can’t stop laughing,” she giggled even harder which made him laugh too. “Every time I-I try to st-stop, I end up laughing hard-harder,” she tittered, grasping onto his shoulders for added stability. 

 

“Did I get you too high?” he chuckled back, pressing his lips to the side of her jaw gently. He licked up to her earlobe and nibbled, and she let out a little gasp, her giggles finally starting to subside. 

 

“Maybe, but don’t stop,” she replied breathily, tugging off her glasses, pulling him closer to her, and rolling her hips to meet his. “I think-I think, it feels better like this.” She groaned as he angled his hips to meet hers more. She wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him closer. 

 

“Always feels better high. Cum harder too,” he admitted, smiling against the skin of her collarbone. He felt Patty’s fingernails curl into his arms.  

 

“Why’d you make me wait?” she snapped, craning her head to bite at his neck. She could hear him choke back a whiny moan as he rutted against her. 

 

“Just wanted to make it good for you, baby. That’s all,” he assured her. 

 

“You always make it good,” she groaned, and she could tell Simon really liked that by the way he moaned and immediately tugged at the hem of her shirt. 

 

“Take this off,” he demanded. 

 

Patty shimmied the shirt off clumsily. “Simon?” she gasped against his neck as he brought his lips down her chest. He bit her gently in response. 

 

“Don’t forget our deal,” she giggled. 

 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Simon raised his head to meet her eyes. He was worried he did get her too high, and he wasn’t sure if they should keep going if she was too out of it. There was still light behind her eyes, but that still didn’t make any fucking sense. 

 

She shook her head and pointed to the record player. “You have to sing at some point,” she grinned. 

 

“Fuck me,” he sighed under his breath in relief. That one was on him; he did vaguely remember making a promise like that to her at one point.

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he chuckled, honestly wasn’t sure if he’d be able to keep that promise, but he'd try. He wrapped his arm around her back to unclasp her bra and trailed his lips down her neck and to her breasts, darting his tongue across her nipple. Patty’s back arched to meet him, wrapping her hand through his hair, throwing her head back, and humming. Patty was usually sensitive, but it seemed even more so now, rolling her hips and squirming under each flick of his tongue. And he couldn’t not take advantage, so he took his time between both of her nipples, letting his hands trail up and down her abdomen until a little noise of frustration finally escaped her lips. 

 

“More, Simon,” she gasped. “Please,” she added softly as he cocked his eyebrow at her.

 

Simon dotted his kisses back up to meet her mouth, dropping his hips to pin her against the bed. “Show me what you want,” he teased. 

 

Patty whined impatiently, adjusting her legs around his waist and wiggling until she was able to grind against him in a way that finally gave her some friction. Simon felt her nails drag down his back to his waist, her hands trying to push him closer against her which didn’t result in much. 

 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she complained, sinking her teeth into his exposed collarbone. 

 

He smirked and leaned in closer as she started to suckle around the bite mark. “‘Course I am. I like when you get all desperate and shit.” 

 

She gave him a look of disbelief that made both of them fall back into a fit of laughter again. 

 

“Fine,” she chirped through a giggle, unwrapping her arms from his back and sneaking her fingers between their bodies and underneath her waistband. 

 

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Simon grabbed her wrist and pinned it down above her head. Patty blushed and giggled, sparing a glance at his hand encircling her wrist. Simon didn’t miss the hint of a smile on her lips as her eyes flicked over his grip around her.  

 

“Oh, you little shit,” Simon murmured against her. He tightened his grip and watched her shy smile blossom into a grin as she rolled her hips up to him again. 

 

“Kiss me? Please,” she begged, struggling against his hold and trying to meet his lips to no avail. 

 

Simon bent down and let his lips brush against hers, never actually pressing them together and making her squirm and whine underneath him. 

 

“Not fair,” she panted as she tried to push forward to capture his lips between hers. He swiped his tongue against her bottom lip but then dipped his head to suck and kiss along her neck instead, his hips bucking forward involuntarily at her breathy whine. 

 

Patty tapped on his arm with her free hand to get his attention.“No hickeys. My mom’s getting suspicious.” Simon pulled back to look at her, letting go of her wrist and trying to maintain a somewhat serious look on his face. 

 

“Fuck your mom,” he deadpanned and went back to suckle at that spot on her neck that always made her moan the way he liked. He gave her one last love bite, getting one last delicious groan out of her before dragging his lips to the junction between her neck and shoulder. He wasn’t that big of an asshole. 

 

Patty wrapped her arms around him as he made his way agonizingly slow down her neck. He nibbled along her collarbone but never gave in to the deeper bites she had grown to like. “Harder,” she urged, pushing his head closer to the spot he was working. 

 

“Damn you’re fuckin’ bossy tonight,” he replied, dragging his teeth along her collarbone. 

 

“And you’re a tease,” she retorted.

 

“Just tryin’ to take my time with you, baby,” he murmured and adjusted his hips to give her a little more room to grind up against him, clamping his teeth down the way he knew she wanted it. Patty moaned in response, nodding her head as she rocked up against his slow, grinding thrusts. 

 

Simon eventually made his way down her body, murmuring sweetly between kisses along her waistline. She was about to say something bratty about him taking so long, but then he looked up at her, with some sort of soft expression she didn’t see on his face too often, especially less so when they had sex. It made her heart flutter, her limbs grow weak. She bit her tongue. 

 

“You’re really fuckin’ something, Pats. Can’t believe I get to have you to myself,” he said softly as he let his hands roam along her tummy and waist and up to her breasts. “Want you to listen to this one,” he pressed a tender kiss right below her belly button. “Put it on for you.” 

 

“Oh, Simon,” she sighed, reaching both her arms out to pull him back to her lips. He didn’t hesitate, meeting her lips as fiercely and as passionately as she did. She dared a hand down his side, slipping her hand along his waistline to palm at his erection. He finally let her too, pressing into her grasp and sighing against her lips. 

 

Patty kept half an ear out on the music as they rutted against each other; the guitars and lyrics soothingly coming across the speakers. She hadn’t considered any of the music that Simon had shown her to be romantic, but this one was. And as she listened closer, she realized he was being incredibly sweet. She wasn't sure if it was the high, but she felt her emotions lurch to the forefront and she put them into a wet and sloppy kiss. She hoped he could feel it too. 

 

Simon pulled from her lips to trail back down her body, wrapping his fingers around the waistband of her shorts and passing a glance up to her. She was grinning from ear to ear, head thrown back with her eyes closed. He chuckled to himself and yanked her shorts down. Simon took a moment to look over her before he pulled her legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. 

 

“This song is really pretty, Simon.”

 

Simon looked up at her, smiled, and pressed a small kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Keep listening, if you can,” he said, diving back between her legs and pressing his tongue against her. Patty nodded, an airy moan escaping her throat as she clawed at the bedsheets. He swirled his tongue around her, prodding a finger to press against her hole, hearing her gasp and sigh as he worked both in tandem. 

 

Patty quickly found herself feeling very overwhelmed and vulnerable in a way she didn't usually while they were having sex. The combination of the high, the song, all the words he had spoken to her tonight mixed with the pleasure he was giving her was almost too much all at once. She tugged upward on his hair. “Simon?” He looked up at her expectantly, his eyes adding to the intensity of everything she was feeling right now. She lost her words.

“Too much?” he offered. Patty shrugged. She didn’t know that she wanted him to stop, but she did know she wanted him near, wanting his mouth on hers instead. 

 

She sighed in what seemed like relief as he pulled away. Simon felt her hands tugging on his arms, wrapping herself around him and bringing her lips to his desperately. He wanted to tease her, but there was something different in this kiss that stopped him. It was tender and desperate and needy and passionate, and he hoped she could feel his reciprocation. 

 

“Now you’re doing it,” she laughed as she pulled from his lips. 

 

He shook his head. “Doing what?”

 

She drummed her fingers along his back to demonstrate. “Tapping,” she giggled, smiling so wide at him. 

“Yeah, to the song. Can’t help it,” he chuckled. He knew this song, this whole album really, like the back of his hand. He had spent many lonely nights in this very room, drunk or spun out, thinking he'd never have anyone to share it with either. He didn't let himself stew on that thought very long though. He could get emotional after so many beers, and he didn't want to ruin the moment. 

 

“I can’t either,” she giggled back. She didn’t call him out to stop. It was comforting more than anything. 

 

Patty stopped him before coming back to her lips, tugging on his pants. “Off please?” she asked as nicely as she could. 

 

"Yeah, I think I can do that," he grinned, unpeeling from her to tug off his jeans. He came back to encase her in his arms again, but she stuck her arm out, palm flat on his chest. 

 

“Can I be on top?” she smiled, and the way that grin grew on her face made Simon's heart melt. 

 

“Fuck, can’t say no to that face,” he laughed, and Patty patted the spot next to her for Simon to get comfortable. She climbed on top, adjusting Simon so that she could slide against him easily. She began to rock up and down his length, leaning her forehead on his shoulder as she moved. She felt his fingers come to comb through her hair as they both groaned on a slow downward thrust of her hips. 

 

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered into the top of her head. Patty smiled and kissed his shoulder gently as she continued to grind against him. 

 

Simon leaned over to grab a condom and pulled her hips to sit back on his thighs. She sighed happily as she watched him roll it on, suppressing a giggle as she watched his fingers fumble the way they did when he was drunk or tipsy. 

 

Patty walked her knees over either side of his hips while Simon reached around to line himself up. She could admit she was still a little clumsy, and she never turned down his guidance. She felt his head push past his entrance, and her hands came down to his chest as she braced herself with a low moan. It always felt good, but this was even better, pleasure sparking throughout her entire body. 

 

“God, you’re unbelievable, Pats,” Simon groaned as he tightened his grip on her hips, feeling her squeeze around him as she slowly eased her way down. 

 

Patty smiled as she looked back up at him, maintaining eye contact as she fully sank down. She wiggled and hummed as she adjusted around him. She felt Simon’s dick twitch in her, and she groaned. “Feels so much better than usual,” she gasped through a smile. 

 

“Haven’t even done anything yet,” he reminded her. 

 

“Hush.” She pressed her hands to his chest to help steady herself as she slowly rocked up and down his length, setting a steady pace. 

 

"Yeah, just like that, Pats. Fuckin' perfect," Simon encouraged through a moan. He adjusted his grip on her hips, hearing her cry out as he began to meet her. She choked as he slammed into her particularly hard, a weird noise escaping her throat. They met each other's eyes, and Patty was the first to break, bursting into another round of giggles. 

 

“Whoa, that’s fucking crazy, Patty,” Simon threw his head back as her laughter continued, rolling his hips up to press deeper into her. 

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make that sound,” she replied as her giggles died down. 

 

“No, what? Fuck that. When you laugh, baby. Gimme your hand. Lemme show you.” He took her index finger, wrapped his palm around it, and pulsed his grasp around her quickly. She gave him a puzzled look. 

 

“Yeah. That’s what it feels like on my dick when you laugh like that.”

 

Patty’s eyes widened. “Does it feel good?”

 

“Is my dick still hard?”

 

Patty looked down between them and wiggled her hips. “Yes,” she nodded, and the look on his face made her giggle again. Simon moaned, his face contorting as he rocked her hips against him. “Bet it feels better without the fuckin’ rubber,” he groaned.  

 

Patty's laughter halted. “I mean—.” 

 

Simon shook his head and pulled her head towards his, capturing her lips between his to silence the thought. If she asked, he wasn’t going to say no, and he was too fucked up to even think about trying to pull out right now.

 

He moved his hands down to her hips and held her in place as he shifted down on the bed to pump up into her slowly and take the lead. She moaned into his mouth, and he smiled as he bit her lip. 

 

As Simon picked up his speed, Patty collapsed on his body, hugging her arms around him and panting in the crook of his neck. “You feel so good, Simon.”

 

“You feel fucking amazing, baby,” he grinned back. She felt his fingers come to her hair again, expecting him to yank her back to face him, but instead he softly cupped the back of her head, holding her against him. It made her heart lurch forward at the tenderness he was showing, and she pressed his face deeper into his chest to muffle a whimper as she dealt with the rush of emotions. 

 

The way she was squirming above him told Simon she was getting close, so he slowed his pace down again, a whine escaping her throat as she sat up to press her lips against his again. 

 

“Stay with me,” he murmured against her lips. She nodded back, heavy breaths coming from her as she ducked her head to look between their bodies. He huffed a small laugh; she really did love watching. He loosened his tight grip on her hips and brought a hand to her cheek as he picked up his speed slightly. "This part, Pats."

 

Her eyes snapped to his, hazy and dreamy, with a loose smile on her face, and Simon thought she looked like a fuckin’ angel. An angel he didn't deserve. He gulped, pushing those thoughts away, trying to get ahold of himself as the verse he put this album on for quickly approached. She had him all choked up in a way he had never gotten while fucking, almost felt like he was suffocating. He rested his forehead against hers, figuring the eye contact was what was overwhelming him. He grinned through a nervous laugh against her, and she giggled back. He pressed his lips against hers, soft and slow, pulling back and whispering against her lips as the lyrics rang across the speakers, "but I know that I love you so, oh." 

 

“Oh, Simon,” she whimpered, tears pooling in her eyes. She felt his thumb wipe underneath her eye and cup her face, other hand gripped tightly on her hip. She met his eye and pressed her cheek into his hand. This was a lot, but a lot in a good way. She had never felt so connected, so emotionally tethered to him in the way she did now, and she knew in that moment he felt the same way too.

 

“I love you, too,” she grinned against his lips before pressing them sloppily and passionately against his. 

 

Simon ran his hands down her body until they found her hips, giving him the leverage to pick up the pace. She cried out, digging her nails into his shoulders as she slammed her hips down on his upward thrusts. “Don't stop," she pleaded, feeling her climax building with every pump. 

 

Simon nodded against her and adjusted his hips to give her more friction against his body, a low groan escaping his lips as he felt her start to clench around him. 

 

"I'm-I’m so close,” she gasped, clinging onto him tighter and pressing her face into his shoulder. 

 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so fuckin' good, Patty. Gonna make me cum too." The feeling of her spasming around him coupled with her breathy moans were more than enough to send him over the edge not long after her. His hips slowed until they were rocking gently and eventually stilled. And they stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other, panting as they rode out their respective highs. Patty pressed chaste little kisses to his chest and shoulder and cheek, and he allowed himself to revel in it, in the feeling of adoration. It felt so fucking good.

 

“Holy shit, Patty,” Simon groaned as she slowly lifted herself off, coming to lay on her side and curling her body around his. 

 

She smiled lazily, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You’re very romantic.”

 

Simon reached for a cigarette, hoping his cheeks just felt hot due to their shared exertion. “You’re fucking incredible.” 

 

“I’m starving.” 

 

Simon barked out a laugh and looked down at her, all pie-eyed still. “Gimme a sec. I got a couple things in my backpack.” 

 

Simon heard a whine start in Patty's throat. “C’mon. You love to cuddle afterward,” he teased, squeezing his arm around her tighter. He remembered the first time he got up right after to return to what he was doing. The look on her face killed him, and he never made that mistake again.

 

Patty pouted but squeezed her arms around him and nuzzled closer. “Yeah, you’re right.” She inhaled deeply and let out a satisfied little hum on her exhale. 

 

Simon pressed his lips to the top of her head. “God, I fuckin’ love you, Pats.” 

 

Patty rolled her head up to look at him; she looked adorable peering at him from his chest the way she was. She giggled and smiled so widely. 

 

“What?” he asked, flipping his palms up.

 

“You’re not mad.” 

 

Simon huffed, but Patty’s goofy smile pulled a chuckle out of him before he could even think to be upset. 

 

“Was never mad about it."

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Fuck. Yes, Patty. Positive. Can’t be mad at you.”

 

Patty gave him a confused look and sat up a bit to look at him more evenly. “I didn’t say at me.”

 

Simon cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m not following.” Simon lit the cigarette in his hand. He took a puff and handed it to her which she gratefully accepted, inhaling deeply before handing it back. 

 

“You didn’t seem mad with me, but you still seemed upset,” she shrugged, tapping his chest and pointing at the juice box on the nightstand. 

 

Simon sighed around the cigarette, handing her the juice and placing his free hand on her head to gently stroke her hair. “Take it easy on me, yeah? You’re my first.” 

 

Patty felt the straw fall out of her mouth at his admission, and she quickly wiped the dribble from her chin. It wasn’t anything she didn’t assume, but she was so used to it being the other way around she hadn’t given it any thought. 

 

“You’re not the only one,” he ribbed, and he watched as her face shone with relief and intrigue and slight surprise. She handed him the box back and laid her head on his chest, tracing little shapes on his chest over and over with the happiest little smile on her face. And knowing he put that smile on her face gave him such a euphoric rush. He could stay like this forever. 

 

“Simon?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Can I say it whenever now?” 

 

Simon paused for a beat, sucking on the last bit of his cigarette before he leaned over to stub it out. He squeezed her tight and kissed her head. “You could always say it whenever.”

 

“Bullshit,” she giggled. 

 

“The fuck you mean?" he scoffed. "I’ve always told you you can say whatever you want whenever you want to me.”

 

“Yeah, sure, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“Simon, you never… you didn’t react well.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, I don’t like making you feel that way. I want it to feel good.” 

 

“It does feel good." 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Fuck, what’s with the interrogation?”

 

Patty narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s not fair. You were pretty upset at the hotel—.”

 

“I hadn’t even been a free man for 24 hours yet. Give me a break.” 

 

“And the bus stop? You went white as a ghost, Simon,” she paused to give him a chance to respond. He didn’t. 

 

“Or last week when you picked me up from work? Or when we were having sex—.”

 

“Okay, okay. Fuck, I get it. I’m sorry, Pats. I don’t have any good reason. Please be patient with me. I know I usually have all the answers for you, but I don’t right now.” 

 

Patty didn’t say anything, wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her felt bad for pushing him, but she also didn’t think it was fair of him to say she could say that whenever when it looked painful to hear. 

 

“And I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now. Fuck, I think I’ve known since the first time I brought you here. Just had to work through my own shit first,” he admitted quietly, stroking her hair to keep his hands busy. 

 

Patty scrunched her nose at him but didn’t question one way or another. She didn’t understand what would need to be worked through if she was being honest. But she’d asked him plenty of questions already. 

 

"Think it's cute when you do that," he smiled, poking the end of her nose playfully. She laughed, batting his hand away before planting a wet kiss on his lips. 

 

An easy smile came to Patty's face as she laid back down, slinging a leg over his. She took a long deep breath, kissed his chest, and cuddled closer to him. “I love you, Simon.” 

 

And, this time, it really didn’t hurt. He didn’t feel the overwhelming need to push it away. Instead, he opened his arms to it, to her, and he was taken aback at the bliss and comfort he found as he surrendered. Surprised himself that he actually wanted more. He kissed her back and squeezed her tightly. 

 

“Yeah, love you too, Pats.”

Notes:

shotgunning scene inspired completely by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/ants-personal/775595884511641600
i literally rewrote and restructured that entire part after seeing it lmfao

Chapter 6

Notes:

tw: very brief mention of sexual assault

“Simon?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Can we read our lists now?” 

 

Simon stopped strumming to peer up at her, a bright grin stretched across her face as she fiddled with a chew-marked pen. 

 

“Yeah,” he nodded slightly, a corner of his lip raising into a smirk, “we can read 'em now.”

 

He set his guitar down, coming to plant a kiss on her cheek before leaning over the bed to rummage for his notebook in his nightstand drawer. He flipped through the pages and slapped it in her lap, opening and closing his palm in a gesture to hand hers over too. 

 

Patty tightened her grip on her own notebook, frowning at Simon’s in her lap. 

 

“What?” He turned his palms up at her. 

 

Patty pushed her lips to the side and shrugged. “I thought we’d read them out loud.”  

 

“What, like to each other?” The exasperation was clear in his voice if the look on his face wasn’t enough. Simon hadn't had much alone time to sit down and really give his undivided attention to the assignment until the previous evening given they’d been practically glued to each other since they recorded. He stayed up all fucking night working on it too, but he was fairly certain that his wouldn't even compare to Patty's. 

 

Patty nodded excitedly. “I want to hear you say them.” 

 

“Yeah, alright.” He swiped his index finger under his nose and pointed at the notebook in her hands. “You go first.” 

 

Patty clutched her notebook to her chest and shook her head with a giggle. “No, you.” 

 

“Fuck that,” Simon laughed, waving his hand at her. “This shit's your idea.” 

 

Patty raised her eyebrows at him with a tight, devious smile. "No. I think it was your idea first."

 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll give you that one,” Simon conceded. He still felt like a dick about the misunderstanding if he was being honest, even more so when he sat down to write his own list and realized what he had requested of her. It felt a lot more like writing down the reasons for why he loved her rather than reasons he “kept her around," and what sucked is that he only had himself to blame. He snatched his notebook back dramatically, getting a little giggle out of Patty as he arched an eyebrow at her. 

 

"Okay, the first reason I keep you around..." Simon drummed his fingers on the page, and she leaned in closer to him, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

 

"Never get tired of fucking you,” he grinned with a wink. There had been a small voice in the back of his head that was insistent he would get bored of having sex with the same person over and over again, but there was something about Patty that consumed him completely and still left him wanting more. Always wanting more.  

 

Patty curled her lips in with a short nod as she looked at the space between them on the bed. She was relieved he thought so, not that Simon had given her any reason to believe otherwise considering how vocal he already was. But there was a small part of her that couldn’t help feeling self-conscious or lacking in that area of their relationship, especially in comparison to Simon who had much more experience and was already very good at what he did.  

 

"Seriously, Patty. You’re fuckin’ tits in the sack. No one has ever gotten me off the way you do," he continued, rubbing his hand up the outside of her thigh. Fuck, he wanted to bend down and bite and kiss and suckle at the milky skin now, but he held himself back. "Hot as fuck too. Feels like I can never get enough." 

 

Patty bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to fight off the proud smile coming to her face. "You're even better." 

 

"Oh, I know, Pats. You always let me know. Shit, I think anyone within a mile radius of us fuckin' knows," he teased, grinning as she giggled and swatted his knee with her notebook. "Alright, alright. It's your turn. Go ahead." 

 

“My first reason is the way you make me feel,” she began softly, pushing her falling glasses back up her nose to find Simon grinning curiously at her.

 

“Yeah? And what feeling is that?” he prodded after a moment of silence. If she wanted to exchange their reasons out loud, he wanted the full explanation out loud too. Even if that was a little self-centered. 

 

Patty hummed and looked up as she considered his question. “I don’t know. You make me feel a lot of things.”

 

“Shit, all good things I hope,” he chuckled. 

 

“Don’t be silly,” she waved him off. “You make me feel happy, but it’s not just happy,” she wondered aloud, tapping the pen against her lips. Before Simon, no one had ever made her feel the way she was trying to describe, and she wasn't sure if there was even a word for it.

 

“You make me feel like I can do anything. And you make me feel pretty and special and like what I say matters,” she decided with a sure smile. 

 

“You should feel like that anyway, Patty. You don’t need me for all that,” Simon brushed off.  

 

“That's not fair, Simon. These are my reasons," she reminded him, kicking herself for not setting some ground rules before they started. She didn't want to spend what she thought would be a fun activity battling him after every reason. But, thankfully, he raised his hands in defeat, leaned into a more relaxed position, and squinted at his notebook. 

 

“Okay, let’s see…” Simon mumbled to himself. He scanned down the list, dragging his hand down his face as he searched for a reason that didn’t have to do with sex, and found himself a lot further down than he'd like to admit. It was easier to start there, wrap his mind around the prompt a little more, but it quickly ended up with his dick in one hand and her Polaroids in another before he could even think to return to the task at hand. 

 

“Is-it's the way you look at me,” he stopped to clear his throat and glance up at her. And, sure enough, it was one of the looks in question: that huge grin splitting her face and crinkling her eyes along with the bridge of her nose. He sometimes couldn't believe it was him that she was looking at.

 

“Y’look at me like no one else ever has. And I don’t have to do anything crazy or over the top to get it either. You look at me like I’m…like I’m worth a damn or somethin’.” He grinned shyly at his admission, bringing his thumb to his mouth to bite briefly.

“That’s because you are,” she replied matter-of-factly, giving his cheek a gentle peck. Simon leaned into it and smiled. He kinda believed her for once too. 

 

Patty giggled girlishly as she read over her next one, looking above her glasses at Simon before speaking. “My second reason is your arms.” 

 

“My arms?” Simon raised his eyebrows at her, rolling onto his side and propping his head with his hand. “Care to elaborate there?” 

 

Patty nodded with a mischievous smile as she set her notebook down, finding the perfect opportunity for a visual reminder. She huffed impatiently as she reached out to roll up one of his sleeves because, of course, today just had to be the day he pulled a normal t-shirt on. 

 

“What’s this? What are you doing?” he chuckled, though he leaned toward her to let her continue. 

 

“Elaborating," she deadpanned, ignoring Simon's muttering in return. She let her hand trail from the top of his shoulder, around his biceps, and across his forearms. She sighed contently. "They’re nice to look at."

 

“Oh, so I’m just some eye candy to you,” he teased. 

 

Patty’s face scrunched in confusion and shook her head. “No. I like how strong you are," she explained, a small smile spreading across her lips as she traced a vein on the underside of his forearm. "I really like it when you have them around me or hold me. Always makes me feel safe.” She switched the firm fingertip traces for light scratches of her nails, making him squirm a little. “And, they’re connected to your hands.”

 

“My hands? Fuck, what about the rest of me?” 

 

“That too.” 

 

“That too,” Simon mumbled under his breath and shook his head. He glanced down at his notebook, though he knew what the next one was. Just wanted the comfort of the notebook paper looking back at him.

 

“You know, I’ve never met a single soul that thinks like you, comes up with the shit that you do. Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you come out of left field with something else. I love it, Pats. Keeps me on my fuckin’ toes."

 

She rocked happily across from him in response, fingers dancing along the back of her notebook as she giggled. 

 

“Gonna go ahead and skip down a few while you’re demonstrating. No, don’t stop. It wouldn’t be on the list if I didn’t fuckin’ like it,” he chuckled. “Your dances and wiggles and taps and whatever else. Think it’s adorable as hell. My favorite's when you do it when we’re fuckin’. Lets me know I’m doing it right.”

The second Patty had confessed it was something she hated about herself, Simon had set himself on a mission to make sure she knew how much he adored it, wanted her to love it as much as he did. Simon wasn’t ignorant to the fact that they weren’t all good, weren’t always indicative of happiness. And while he wasn’t about to say this to her, he really liked that he could gauge her mood or reaction to something by what she was doing with her hands or feet or eyes or head. 

 

“Simon,” she whined, pulling him by his shirt to her lips to shut him up. She didn’t understand how one of the things she despised about herself was a reason Simon found her worthy of keeping her around for, but these were his reasons after all. Even if she thought it was stupid, she wasn’t about to argue. She wanted to hear what else he had on that paper more. 

 

“What’s your next one?” he hummed against her ear as he pulled away. 

 

Patty blew air out through her nose in frustration and pulled away with a push of her glasses up her face. “I like that you stand up for me, and for us, strangers, friends. And you always do the right thing.” 

 

Simon was already shaking his head, his mouth opening with a retort before she could finish her sentence. “Only ‘cause I wouldn’t be able to fuckin’ sleep at night otherwise,” he scoffed. 

 

“Pfft, c’mon. You don’t sleep anyway,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, giggling when Simon’s mouth dropped ever so slightly. “Whether you like it or not, you’re nice. Well, sometimes. Stop laughing. You are! Even if it's in your own kind of way.” 

 

She’d watch Simon do a lot of little acts of kindness, though he always made sure to appear irritated or annoyed while doing it. He’d get up for little old ladies when there were no seats left on the bus, always making sure to sigh heavily and mutter “just take the fucking seat, lady” when they didn’t sit down right away. When Patty had asked him about it, he went on a rant about human decency that was hard to follow, and she wasn't sure if that was because of the speed at which he was talking or if it was because she was too zoned in on that little vein on his neck popping out as he spouted. Either way, she thought it was sweet. 

Another time, Patty had dragged him to the mall in desperate need of some glitter, and a little kid approached them out of all people, saying she’d lost her mom. Patty expected Simon to tell her to fuck off and enjoy her freedom, which did kind of happen. He gave her some shit for getting lost first, but then he crouched down and told her they’d help her and to not worry and got her to giggle through her tears. The whole interaction made Patty’s heart flutter, her limbs weak, and the heat between her legs grow into a rolling flame in a way she didn't quite understand. She could barely contain herself after the whole ordeal and jumped Simon as soon as they got back to the car. He had teased her about "baby fever," but she was far too worked up to stop and ask what he meant by that. 

And just a couple of nights ago, she watched him deck some guy for being all gropey and weird to this girl at one of Donnie’s shows. Patty didn't even see what was happening that made Simon lunge forward and crack his fist across the guy's nose, but she did see the look of relief on the girl's face. It was a look Patty had come to know intimately, and that was all she needed to fill in what happened. She had to fight off the tears as they ran from the venue, and, once at a safe distance, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and thanked him. He acted like he didn't know what for, but she knew he knew. 

 

"Yeah, sure. If you say so," he laughed. 

 

"I do say so. You should believe me too. I would know."

 

Simon cocked his eyebrows at her in amused disbelief, and she mocked the look on his face in return. “You’re fuckin’ on one tonight,” he complained. 

 

She gave him an impatient look and tapped on his notebook. “It’s your turn.” 

 

“Fucking okay, jeez,” he chuckled, shaking his head. He didn't need a refresher for this next one. “Keep you around ‘cause you know what you want.”

 

Patty’s eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

 

“Are you being fucking serious right now? I mean like just now.” He flung his hands between them wildly.  

 

Patty shook her head. "I don't get it." 

 

Simon sighed; he really didn't know how else to explain it to her. “I mean, you fucking know what you want, Pats,” he repeated. “And you tell me too. It’s… nice, really. Breath of fresh fucking air.” He loved that there were never any mind games with Patty. The only hoops she made him jump through were her seemingly random conclusions that, admittedly, usually weren’t all that random when he made her explain her thought process. 

 

Patty nodded slowly as she absorbed his words and shrugged. She didn’t really understand what he was saying. Anything else would feel like she was lying to him.

 

She returned back to her notebook, sitting up straight to look at him again, and sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted to say this one out loud. It was a big one—one of the biggest reasons she loved him. She was kind of regretting her insistence on vocalizing their little project altogether. She felt Simon’s hand come to rest on her thigh, and she immediately placed her hand over his, thankful for the support she didn’t have to ask for. 

 

The way she grabbed his hand told him she was more overwhelmed than she was leading on. “C’mere. Gimme a kiss,” he murmured as he leaned in, slotting their lips together sweetly. "Better?" he asked as he pulled away. She nodded with a small smile, squeezing his hand and taking a deep breath. 

 

“You always answer my questions.” Patty could feel the tears welling in her eyes, and she bit her lip as she looked up to try to blink them away. She felt Simon's fingers thread through hers, and she smiled and dropped her head back down to look at him. "And you never make me feel dumb either. At least not on purpose." 

 

Simon’s mouth fell open at her qualification. God, was he no better than his fucking sister?

 

“Fuck, Patty, I never mean to—.”

 

“I know, Simon.” She put her hand up to stop him; that wasn't her point. No one else had put up with her questions for that long without really going off on her or making her feel small. The few times Simon had made her feel stupid, he was half awake or raging, and, even then, it dimmed massively in comparison to what she was used to. And he, unlike anyone else she had known, would apologize when he realized he had gotten short with her. 

 

“Yeah, but that’s no excuse—.”

 

"Simon, you always answer," she interrupted him, placing a firm palm on his thigh. "Even when you're tired or pissed off or in a bad mood. I-I don't think anyone has ever—," she paused as she felt her voice crack, coming to blot her eyes with her hands. Simon scooped her up into his arms before she could even think to reach for him. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder and squeezed her arms tight around him before pulling back. 

 

"And this is why your arms are on the list," she giggled. They really were a cure-all for all her overbearing emotions. Put her at ease quicker than any anti-anxiety medication or soothing technique that had been forced upon her. 

 

Simon’s thumbs came to swipe under her eyes with an easy smile on his face. “Glad they could be of service.” 

 

She leaned in to press a quick peck against his lips before giving him the space to reach for his notebook again. He felt the corner of his lip turn up as he glanced back down, chuckling to himself as he read his choice of words on the next line. 

 

“What?” she asked with an inquisitive smile. 

 

“Nothin', you just actually pull your fuckin' weight when we work on shit together. Think you're the only person I've collaborated with that I didn't want to fuckin' strangle," he chuckled. Patty smiled shyly in return, and, well, he couldn't have that.  

 

“I mean it, Pats. I don’t think you realize how much you bring to the table. Kick-ass lyricist and all these fuckin' melodies that just come to you. It's insane watching you do your thing.” He took her hand as she tried to bite back a smile. “Some of what I consider my best shit is all thanks to you. Inspire the hell out of me too while we’re at it.” He kissed the back of her hand and gave her a wink.

 

Patty knew what he meant. Working with him was so much more fulfilling and enjoyable than with Sissy and Karen. With them, she’d come home with a wrung-out brain, exhausted and spent. But working with Simon felt like filling each other's cups rather than draining them. And she had a feeling she had been his source of inspiration just as long as he’d been hers. 

 

“You know, now that I’m actually thinking about it, you probably inspired a handful of lyrics back when I only knew you by your hand down your pants too,” he smirked. Patty gasped but then her brows furrowed, jutting her bottom lip at him. 

 

“What?” He threw his hands up at her. He couldn't possibly understand what he said that would have upset her. What fuckin’ girl doesn’t wanna hear she’s got dozen of lyrics written about her, because of her? 

 

“You’ve never told me that before.”

 

Simon could have sworn he felt the heat from the fire raging behind her eyes. “Well, I wasn’t exactly coherent when I wrote most of that shit, Patty,” he admitted with a chuckle, hoping that would tide her over. Her nose pinched up instead. “I wouldn’t even be able to tell you which songs, but I’d know it when I heard it.” 

 

Patty’s face blossomed into a wide smile, her eyes glimmering with excitement. He put his head in his hand and sighed in premature defeat. “Yes,” he muttered with a wave of his hand. 

 

Patty cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t say anything.”

 

“I know. You don’t have to,” Simon grumbled, feigning irritation and shifting his head to peer back up at her with a soft smile. Patty opened her mouth and closed it a couple times, eyelids fluttering. Simon sighed and swirled his hand in front of her. 

 

“Go ahead and ask.”

 

“Can we listen to—.”

 

“Yes, and I’ll tell you which ones are about you,” he laughed and leaned to press a kiss to her cheek.  

 

Patty pushed her face into her shoulder, rubbing around the heat in her cheeks. “That’s actually one of my reasons,” she admitted quietly.  

 

“What is?” 

 

She shook her head tightly. “It’s #8.”

 

“You can go out of order. It'll be okay,” he promised, wrapping his pinky around hers before she would inevitably ask. 

 

Patty bit her lip and nodded. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?” 

 

He barked out a short laugh and sighed with a shake of his head. He didn't, far fucking from it really. He didn’t think he’d ever have her completely figured out, but he certainly didn’t have the heart to tell her it only takes a couple of days of observing her to pick up on what mannerisms meant what. Didn't want her to put two and two together that so many of the people she considered "close" or "friends" either weren't observant enough or didn't care enough to pay attention. And if that wasn't enough, every little emotion hung on that pretty face of hers anyway. 

 

“Magic,” he responded with a flashy wave of his hand, and Patty scoffed at him. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to keep that information to himself. Keep the illusion alive. He fucking loved the look on her face when she realized he was already two steps ahead of her. 

 

“Keep going,” she giggled, allowing her hand to trace along the outside of his thigh. She flicked her eyes up to him, saw his parted lips and heavy yet curious eyes. She knew that meant she had permission to let her hands roam a little further, and she leaned in to press her lips against his. Sweet, open-mouth kisses with teases and traces of tongues as she rubbed her palm across him. Simon brought his hand to the back of her head but used it to pull her back rather than closer. 

 

“Alright. Down, girl,” he teased. Patty's jaw dropped briefly, and her cheeks turned from pink to red. He had the perfect reason, could go back to the top of his list even. 

 

“Fuckin’ love how handsy you are,” he said with a perk of his lip and a nod of his head. Patty grinned and dragged her fingers further up his thigh. “Can’t keep your hands off me to save your life. Makes me—makes me feel wanted, Pats,” he confessed. 

 

“That’s because you are wanted, Simon,” she replied flatly, her serious expression turning into a smile as he looked away shyly. “I always want you,” she added with a nod. 

 

“I know. That’s my point.” 

 

Patty squeezed his thigh before she leaned in to capture his lips between hers again. As he deepened the kiss, she brought his hand to her chest, letting him squeeze and rub the way he liked. She snuck her tongue into his mouth with a breathy gasp as he tweaked her nipple just right. She brought her hand back down to grasp at his length, but she pulled back right when he was moaning into her open mouth. 

 

"Payback." She grinned proudly, tilting her head to the side and shrugging her shoulders. 

 

“Yeah, okay. I deserve that,” he agreed. "But now that I know it's a game, I'm gonna fuckin' win," he smirked, leaning back and pointing at her notebook.

 

Patty pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him. She knew that only meant one thing, and, as she looked over her reasons, she decided to cherry-pick her favorites. She wasn't sure how much longer either of them were going to last. 

 

“What’s that look for?" 

 

"I think I'm gonna skip to the one I added after we recorded the other day," she replied, shifting in her seat. 

 

Simon braced himself; he had let his mind wander about what exactly she was thinking about in that moment. His lucky day he supposed. “Lemme hear it,” he said with a swirl of his hand.

 

“You’re very smart," she started, narrowing her eyes briefly as he tried to wave her off. "Stop that, you're one of the smartest people I know. But especially with music. You know so many instruments, know how to read sheet music, can always put chords together in less than five minutes after hearing a melody. It’s like when I used to watch Kev do his math homework,” she explained thoughtfully.

 

Both of Simon's eyebrows came together. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

 

"What do you mean?" she responded, blinking at him slowly. 

 

Simon brushed his hair off his face and mustered a smile. "What does Kev's math homework have to do with this shit?" 

 

“Well, Kev’s very good at math,” she reasoned, but she knew she had to find a better way to put it into words when she saw Simon shake his head. “It's like watching you solve a puzzle. I don’t know how you do it, but it’s-it’s really, really cool to watch.” 

 

Simon scratched the back of his head and grinned at her. It shouldn't have been a surprise, but it was reassuring as fuck to know she watched him in the zone as much as he did her. "Had lots of lessons and classes,” he chuckled. “Mom made me take piano lessons at 3. Kinda just grew from there.” 

 

“Ohhh,” she said, nodding her head. 

 

“Oh?”

 

Patty’s face burst into a big smile. “That explains why you’re so good with your fingers.” 

 

“Jesus Christ, Patty.” 

 

She wiggled victoriously across from him. "Your turn." 

 

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed. He knew what the next one was, and he already knew he was gonna feel pretty fucking dumb saying it out loud. Especially to her. He wasn't sure she'd understand. 

 

“You know you’re the only one who passed all my tests,” he admitted, biting at his thumb. 

 

“Tests?”

 

Simon snorted to himself, shaking his head. While it was stupid, it did work, brought her to him in a way. “Yeah, I mean I pushed you pretty hard those first couple days, and, fuck Patty, you never backed down. If anything, you took me by surprise,” he confessed, a short laugh of disbelief escaping his throat.

 

Patty’s eyes darted upward as she replayed those first couple of days for the millionth time with this newfound knowledge. “Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

Patty squinted at him. “Why do you need tests.”

 

Simon sighed and tried to look for a good reason to give her other than it kept people at a safe distance, easier to keep his guard up if people didn't want to get close him anyway. She wouldn't like hearing that. 

 

“Weeds out all the fuckin’ posers.” He groaned internally to himself at how lame that sounded coming out. 

 

Patty scrunched her nose at him. “Okay,” she said, drawing the words out and looking back down at her notebook. 

 

“What’s your next one?” Simon poked her. 

 

“Your voice,” she replied dreamily. “Singing, over the phone, just talking, moaning," she paused as he raised an eyebrow at her and rolled onto his stomach to press kisses to the inside of her thighs. "Stop it, Simon," she giggled as she leaned back to give him more room and ran her fingers through his hair.

 

"But I like hearing you moan too," he murmured, letting his hands roam up and down her legs.

 

"Let me finish first," she whined. Her hips jerked towards Simon as he brushed his fingers over the center of her shorts.

 

Simon pressed his teeth into her soft skin until he got a little gasp out of her and popped his head back up with a sly grin. "I always let you finish first," he teased, dropping his head back down to kiss and lick at her thighs. Patty parted her legs to give him more access, and he grinned against her skin before suckling around the love bite. "Keep talkin'," he hummed, chuckling as she let out a small noise of frustration. 

 

"Fine. I really like listening to you when you're excited or know a lot about something or even when you're ranting or when—mm, yes, Simon," she moaned as he began rubbing his thumb in slow circles against her. 

 

He took his hand away, glancing back up at her through his eyelashes. "Or what?"

 

Patty giggled and bent down to kiss his forehead. "Or when we're having sex." He smiled widely at her and allowed his thumb to return to his previous motions, a low moan escaping her lips.

 

"But my favorite is when you’re really worked up about something, and you end up talking more with your hands than your words,” she added breathily. She had never met anyone who flipped and shook and waved and gestured with his hands like he did. She thought it was cute. 

 

Simon snapped his neck up and waved a hand at her. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he insisted.

 

Patty raised an eyebrow and slowly yet purposefully dragged her line of sight to his hand thrown between them. “‘Are you being fucking serious right now?’” she retorted, suppressing a giggle to mimic his tone and cadence from earlier. 

 

“Shut up,” he laughed, sitting back up and resting both of his palms flat on his thighs.

 

"Well, don't stop now," Patty complained from the sudden loss. 

 

"Sounds like I'm already winnin'," he grinned, and she crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. He couldn't help laughing to himself as he reached for his notebook again. 

 

“What is it?” Patty tapped his thigh curiously. He had a very interesting look on his face. 

 

Simon felt his small smile spread into a huge grin. “You’re just as spiteful as I am.”

 

Dan said it was something to be mindful about, that it could get out of hand if they weren't careful. But her little revenge plots only ever amused him, even when they were directed at him. And Patty was never malicious. She was more of an eye for an eye type of gal, and Simon never dished her anything he couldn’t take himself.

 

Patty looked up toward the ceiling, blinking rapidly and knitting her brows together. She inhaled sharply and asked, “what’s spiteful again?” 

 

Simon smiled devilishly. “Means you like to get revenge.” 

 

Patty nodded her head slowly as she processed the definition before turning to him and cocking her head to the side. “Is it revenge, or is it justice?”

 

“Fucking A, Patty. That’s the shit I’m talkin’ about,” he beamed, slapping her knee a couple times. Patty had been the first person in a long time to not rag on him for his insistence on serving someone their just desserts, and he knew he was completely fucked when she not only matched him but brought his schemes to a whole new level. Simon didn’t believe in the whole soulmate thing much before he met her, but she had made him reconsider his stances on a lot of topics, that one included. 

 

Her eyebrows stayed furrowed, and she shook her head, turning her eyes back to the paper in front of her. It was a genuine question, but it didn't seem to matter. Maybe the words were more interchangeable than she thought.

 

“I keep you around because you’re very patient.” She smiled softly, tapping on the back of his hand to emphasize her point. “Especially when you’re showing me new things." 

 

“Got plenty more to show you too.” He gave her a wink and a grin. He was fucking thrilled she thought so. Simon could admit he was only patient with her, and, even then, he caught himself plenty getting frustrated during demonstrations. She’d ask questions that didn’t seem relevant but were absolutely necessary to proceeding for a reason unbeknownst to him, and he’d often have to show her the same thing several times before she could wrap her head around it. But it was always worth it to see her smile that open-mouth grin when she got it. Made him get fuckin’ butterflies like some teenager.  

 

Patty curled her lips in, raising her eyebrows expectantly as she glanced over at his notebook. Simon took the hint, snorting through his nose as he read over his writing. 

 

“Oh, this is a good one. I don’t even know if I’ve told you about this. Do you know that you fuckin’ hum in your sleep?” 

 

“What?”

 

“Yeah. Sleep talking is one thing, right? You fuckin’ hum, Pats. Swear to fucking god.” 

 

She giggled and was about to call him a liar until she thought about it again. She woke up most mornings with a song stuck in her head, and, when she was lucky, it was a new song her brain had gifted her during her slumber altogether. “Do you not hear music while you sleep?” 

 

Simon blinked several times and shook his head. “I mean, maybe after taking a heavy dose of shrooms and passing the fuck out if that counts.”

 

“I don’t think it does.”

 

“So you’re telling me you’re sleepin’ the night away and, what, listening to music?” 

 

“Yeah, sometimes. I don’t see anything when I have those types of dreams though. It’s like dreaming in sound.”

 

“That's insane. You're fuckin’ incredible.” 

 

She blushed at his words, opting to look down at her notebook to avoid his eye contact. She scanned down the list to refresh her memory and stamped hard on the page as the emotions she felt when she wrote it down came back to her. “You’re never embarrassed of me,” she admitted quietly. She felt Simon’s fingers tuck her hair behind her ear, bending his neck to try to meet her eye.

 

“Patty, I could never. Fuck, no one should ever be embarrassed of you,” he stated, his voice low and his gaze serious. 

 

Patty shrugged. Kev hated going out in public with her, her mom often chastised her for her manners in public, shit, sometimes even Sissy or Karen would call her out for being “weird.” But, Simon never did. Ever. He let her do whatever she wanted, and, if anyone stared, he’d stare back or yell at them to mind their own business. It really meant the world to her. For the first time in years, she felt like she didn’t have to hide any part of herself. 

 

“Hey, I fucking mean that, Patty. No, look at me. Come on,” he demanded, taking both of his hands to cup her cheeks and forcing her head up. “You’re punk as fuck, Pats. Beautiful, so goddamn talented, and creative as hell. And whoever can’t see that can go fuck themselves. Seriously. You just have to tell me who, and I’ll take care of it. No fuckin’ questions asked.” 

 

Patty felt her cheeks flush under his palms, darting her eyes between his and the wall to lessen the intensity of both his words and her own emotions. 

 

“Lemme know that you heard me, baby,” he spoke softly, rubbing his thumb against her cheek. She blinked back to his eyes and gave a short nod. 

 

“Good,” he grinned, dropping his hands and grabbing his notebook again.

 

Patty exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding and sat back. Simon could be very intense sometimes. 

 

“One of the biggest reasons I keep you around is because you don’t try to change me, y’know. Just take me as is, put up with all my bullshit, and for some fuckin’ reason you love me for it. It’s…it’s crazy, Patty. You’re crazy,” he laughed nervously, jostling her knee.

 

“Well, you put up with me,” she shrugged in response. She wasn’t oblivious to her heightened emotions, or outbursts, or meltdowns, or insistence on doing things a very specific way, and how these things would affect another person. 

 

“It’s not ‘putting up with,’” he grumbled. He hated that she still saw herself that way. 

 

“It’s not for me either,” she replied with a grin. 

 

Simon reached to scratch the back of his head and laughed again. Guess it was kinda hypocritical to argue otherwise. “Alright then. You’re up.” 

 

“I’ve always loved your eyes,” she sighed happily.

 

“How many of those bulletpoints are about my appearance, Pats?”

 

She shook her head at him. “No, I don’t mean it like that. Well, I do, but that’s not why I wrote it down.”

 

“Why’d you write it down then?”

 

She looked down at her lap and smiled. “I meant like ever since the beginning. Like before we knew each other.” 

 

Simon slowly nodded. “Guess you couldn’t see much else, huh,” he chuckled. 

 

“Yeah. And you sat too far away from me in our class at the JC. I never saw them up close enough to see that they were actually blue.”

 

Simon gave her a puzzled look. “What color did you think they were?”

 

“Brown,” she answered immediately, and then elaborated, “you have the brownest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.” 

 

“I don’t know what the fuck that even means.” 

 

“Unless I’m real close to you, they look brown. I thought they were for a long time,” she replied plainly. He blinked in annoyance at her several times before deciding to move on. He bumped up the list since she had so much to say about how he looked. 

 

“Keep you around ‘cause of that thing you do with your tongue when you’re blowin’ me.”

 

Patty rolled her eyes. “You taught me it.”

 

“Yeah, but you perfected it.” 

 

“Well, I’ll skip down to #18—,”

 

“18?!”

 

Patty giggled at him. “How many do you have?”

 

“First ten I’m not counting, so…” he paused as he thumbed over the list. “12.”

 

Patty shook her head. They had about the same amount if he was counting all of them. “Anyway… #18 is your tongue. In my mouth, on my skin, between my legs, anywhere.” 

 

“Mm, lemme remind you why you put it on there,” he teased, sliding his palm up her thigh again, but she playfully swatted it away. 

 

“Not yet, Si. I wanna hear the rest,” she tittered, hoping to put him off just a little longer. The next time he tried she wasn't sure that she could resist. Not when he was showering her in so many compliments. 

 

“Greedy lil thing, huh?”

 

Patty shoved his shoulder playfully. “Maybe,” she agreed. 

 

“Alright, alright. Love the face you make when you’re in the zone, y'know really concentrating on somethin’. Sometimes when we’re writing or you’re singing or, my personal favorite, when you’re riding me,” he paused as Patty giggled and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I like the way your nose scrunches. Sometimes you stick your tongue out too. It’s real cute, Pats.”

Patty scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out him at his admission. He grinned and leaned in closer. "Yeah, like that," he murmured against her lips. She kissed him gently but pulled away once he started to prod his tongue against her. 

 

"I'm not done," she reminded him.

 

"Then fuckin' go on."

 

Patty smiled widely, returning to her original spot on the list. “You’re…hard on the outside. Almost like a grizzly bear,” she began gently, laying her hand on his thigh. She wasn’t ignorant to how curt and impatient and sometimes even rude he was to other people. “But, to me, you’re soft. More like a teddy bear, and even better than Chomby.”

 

“Fuck ‘em all but us, right? Those were your words. Not mine,” he reminded her with a soft smile. 

 

Patty looked back at her notebook and sighed deeply. 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. I just…” 

 

“Just what?”

 

She shook her head and her hands at him, though it didn’t read as frustration to Simon as it usually did. 

 

“I-I don't know, Simon. It's dumb."

 

"Like hell it is. Tell me."

 

Patty bit her lip and reached for his hand, wrapping her pinky around his index finger. "I guess I never thought I’d have something like this, with anyone. And it’s with you. And I-I love you, Simon. I keep you around for more than what I have written down. It’s hard to explain when I feel it here,” she explained, rubbing her chest.  

 

Simon's smile waned into a look close to shock before he reached out to cup her cheek again. Patty nuzzled her face deeper into his palm.

 

“I love you too, Pats. Love you to the moon and back, and for more reasons that I don’t think I even understand yet, but this was a good starting point,” he replied, gesturing to their notebooks.

 

“We can pick this up later,” she announced, officially at her limit.

 

Simon tossed both to the side and reached to pull her hips to his lap. “Yeah, alright. C’mere.”

Notes:

thanks friends for following along again. always appreciate all the love :)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of P ♡ S