It was stupid, it was blind, it involved almost no thought at all, but Peter was still young, still inexperienced, and a bit of a fool. He hated himself for crying over Simon, angry because he was reacting like a child, but he couldn't help himself. His parents had told him he was still too young, even if that wasn't really true, to be out on his own but he had been ready to show him it wasn't true--

He was hurt, handling it badly, and he knew it.

But Judas had no idea and right now, with Simon showing him just how skilled he was, anyone else was a million miles from his mind. Both of his hands were gripping somewhere - the crunch of that hair gel, the back of his neck with the other - his head fallen back as he bit roughly into his own lip to keep from making some seriously embarrassing sounds. It had been way too fucking long since he'd gotten off and his body was reminding him whole heartedly right now. Simon had him and had him hard right now, but once he was recovered from it, he would fight back. He could give those similar low growls and leave his mark on Simon in turn, a challenge against the other as he gave a bit of a rough bite to a nipple perked by the air-conditioning, a hand dropping to wrap around leather and the skin beneath and squeeze.