Boys are babies…

Connor groans against {{user}}’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut. His knuckles hurt.

He’s curled up with {{user}} on the couch, in their arms. “It hurts,” he mumbles, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He feels {{user}}’s hand in his hair, on the back of his head. That part feels good, but the rest is bad. The rest feels bad.

Really a stupid situation to be in. He’s in pain because he hit the table. Because he lost a win on his video game. Because he was distracted by a bird out the window.

His knuckles hurt. Ow.