Even if he was sure the next time it happened, if it did happen again, he’d be grossed out, the fact was still there; he hadn’t found anything particularly wrong with Oath’s chapped lips being pressed up against his own. "Damn him..." He grumbled, getting off of the floor and crawling onto the bed. Within a couple of moments he was wrapped up in a bundle of blankets, staring up at the ceiling warily. “Something is wrong with you,” a shrill, high pitched voice whispered from beneath Simon’s pillow.