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You sigh heartily as you flop down onto the couch. Almost immediately, you feel the weight of the day dissipating into the air - evaporating right out of you. All the customer complaints, work troubles, and pesky emails from your bosses all fading away into nothingness. You can’t help but close your eyes and smile, enjoying the blissful feeling that comes only from the end of a tiring workday. You let the rigid ticking of the clock on the wall fill your ears for what feels like forever, but you can only sit still for so long.
You crack open one eye, and you look around your living room. You feel like you should be reading one of the books strewn about on the table, or doing a puzzle or something disconnected from technology after a long day of staring at a screen - but the TV’s alluring hum calls to you like a siren song. You’re powerless as you reach over, grab the remote, and press buttons at random until the familiar glowing light fills up the small space. Your finger itches to press the great big glaring ‘Valdiviflex’ button built into the very middle of the remote, but you know how Telly feels about it - and the last thing you want is to get on their bad side. He’s by no means malicious, but he might “accidentally” go into sleep mode right before the climax of your favourite show. So instead, you flick through nature documentaries, soap operas, cooking shows, reality TV, and even home renovation shows before you land on a small, obscure channel you don’t recall ever seeing before.
From what you can gather, it appears to be a 24/7 horror movie channel - with a healthy mix of modern and old, classic and cult, good and bad movies. You’ve managed to catch the tail end of one now, which you deduce from the credits rolling, but you know how cable works - after an ad break there’ll be another, and then another, and on and on and on until your eyes melt out of your skull. You feel yourself growing bored again as you get ad after ad, and your head lolls to the side towards the kitchen. Almost on cue, your stomach growls just audibly enough to catch your attention. You’d been so caught up in your work all day, when was the last time you ate? You almost don’t remember. You make the very difficult decision to stand up, stretch, and walk your way over to the small pantry next to the stove.
As always, you have all manner of snacks and things in your cabinet. You even have some “healthy” choices laying around - from that last time you were awake past midnight and decided it was time to turn your life around - but ultimately, you reach for the familiar container of popcorn kernels and turn to the microwave.
Looking at it in your hand, you remember the advice Teddy once gave you about how to make quote-en-quote “the best” popcorn. You could forgo quality and nuke it in the microwave, or you could dig out your biggest pot and make it by hand. You shrug as you consider it, and decide to try it the way Teddy suggested. You fish out your bottle of oil (all the while hoping Errol isn’t watching) and your pot, and you crank the ‘high heat’ knob on the stove. After a few minutes of waiting for the oil to heat up, you try to remember exactly what Teddy instructed. Put about one third of the kernels in, wait for them to pop, and then dump the rest in. You nod to yourself, thinking how hard can it be? You pour some in, grab a spoon to stir them, and wait patiently for the first batch to pop. It all goes well, until you get so caught up in your own concentration that you don’t notice another body has entered the kitchen. He stands right behind you, tall and looming, but you don’t know it until he wraps his arms around you from behind - and you can’t stop yourself from jumping right out of your skin, or screaming bloody murder.
“Jesus!” You cry out, your heart racing. You hold the wooden spoon in your hand like a weapon, and you grip the handle so tightly you think it might snap. The arms wrapped around you have flown off, and are now in a position of profuse apology up in the air by the head of the offender.
“I’m sorry, I thought you heard me!” Hector leaves his hands up, in a protest of innocence, and you can’t help but laugh once or twice as you catch your breath.
“My god, you’re quiet.” You let your eyes dart all over his face, with your chest still heaving, and he puts his hands down as he watches your reaction. He takes another step towards you and gives you a quick hug, pulling your body against his.
“Forgive me, my beauty,” He caresses you, rubbing one hand up and down your back. You hum as you squish yourself against him, enjoying his company now that you’re aware of it. “I never meant to frighten you.” He tries to hide a snicker, presumably as he replays your reaction in his mind. You feel him grin from where his cheek is pressed against yours, and you playfully smack him in the chest - which he outright laughs at. He pulls back from the hug so he can look you in the eyes, softly and tenderly.
“Mhm. Yeah, I bet,” You roll your eyes, grinning almost as wide as he is. “Were you calling for me?”
Hector shakes his head. “No, but I thought you’d hear my footsteps. Or, maybe, that the water had stopped running.”
You vaguely remember Hector peeking his head into your office about an hour ago, telling you he was about to take a shower. You could’ve smacked yourself in the forehead right then and there, feeling vaguely guilty for forgetting immediately after he left your room. He doesn’t seem to be offended, though, and is looking at you with nothing but love.
“God, I’m sorry. My brain is so fried.” You shake your head, looking down at the floor. You want to turn back towards the stove, but nothing’s popped yet - so you know there’s no harm in ignoring it for a while longer.
“Don’t apologize, my love,” Hector continues to soothe you, moving his hand to gently squeeze your upper arm. “I know how hard you work.”
You want to respond to him, to thank him for always being so understanding, but you’re interrupted by a barrage of pops coming from behind you. You meet his eyes for a second before turning around to face the stove, and you lift the lid of the stainless steel pot. You grab the container of kernels and dump some more in, focusing intently on the amount you want to cook. You can hear Hector chuckle behind you, and you feel his hands placed back on your hips. He caresses you from behind as you work, idly kissing at your hair and the nape of your neck. You put the lid back on the pot and lean into Hector’s embrace.
“What’s the occasion for all this?” Hector gestures to your cooking.
“Movie night.” You turn your head to look up at him, and he smiles down at you.
“Found something good on cable?” He asks, and he kisses your forehead softly.
“Maybe. I used to love horror movies when I was a kid, and I found a channel that plays nothing but.” As you smile you feel Hector still for a moment or two, but he wastes no time in resuming his caresses.
“I thought you didn’t like to be scared.” Hector teases, and he coyly dips a few fingers under the hem of your shirt. His cold fingertips dance around your midsection, and he only stops when you swat at him.
“That’s different! I thought you were a home invader or…or, I don’t know, a murderer!” You turn to pout at him, and he grins innocently in response.
“Well, my love, how do you know I’m not?”
You laugh at him, and you want to say something along the lines of “well, that’s a silly question” in response, but you don’t get the chance - Hector suddenly wraps his hands around your stomach, squeezing as tight as he can, and he lifts you up off the ground. You shriek with both laughter and surprise, your eyes widening as you watch your feet leave the ground.
“H-Hey, Hector, put me down!” You struggle out between laughs, but he doesn’t listen. You can’t help but flail a little, even though you don’t want to hurt him with your kicking legs and frantic arms. You jerk your feet and grab onto where his arms are holding you captive, but he stands firm.
“That doesn’t sound like something a murderer would do,” Hector continues to tease you, clearly proud of himself. He eventually puts you back down on the ground, but it doesn’t last long. He scoops you back up into his arms, but this time he’s carrying you as if you were his bride - and he grins down at you mischievously all the while. You try not to relax too much into his firm, comfortable grip. “I think, if I was a killer, I’d whisk you away to somewhere only I knew about,” He muses, and he looks back towards the living room. He starts to walk over to it, and you continue to struggle just a little. “I’d keep you all to myself and hide you away.”
You find it easy to play along - you know Hector would never lay a finger on you. If you were in any real danger, he wouldn’t be grinning so wide. “Oh, I bet you say that to all your victims.”
“Perhaps. But you, my love, you’d be my favourite,” He walks over to the couch, where you were sitting before, and he gently lays you down on it. “Upon seeing you, I just wouldn’t be able to resist. I’d have to have you,” He grabs the blanket that you keep at the foot of the couch, and he tucks you into it. He places it over your lap, and he gently kisses your forehead. “I’d chase you for days and days, and I wouldn’t stop until you’re all mine.”
In a macabre sort of way, he makes the whole thing sound painfully romantic. You go along with his act, and you throw your hand over your forehead - not unlike a damsel in distress.
“I’d be powerless to resist you.” You continue to pout, but when Hector leans in to kiss you on the lips it turns into a giddy smile in a fraction of a second.
“Nor I you, sweetheart,” He whispers against your lips, before kissing you again. The popcorn on the stove has started to pop, and he turns around to face it. “I’ll be right back.”
“What if I run away? You shouldn’t leave your captive all alone, you know.” You watch as he walks away, but as he goes to enter the kitchen he turns back to face you.
“I could catch you, I think.” He flashes you a final smile before truly disappearing into the other room, and for a minute you consider testing out his threat. But when you look down to your lap, to see how tenderly he’d wrapped you up in your favourite blanket, at how he put you in your favourite position, you don’t dare to move. You could test his stamina another day. You look back to the TV, and realize that the movie has already started - you can’t be too far past the beginning, but the characters and dynamics have already been established. You figure catching up won’t be too hard.
By the time Hector remerges from the kitchen, you’ve assessed a few things about the film - the movie has to be from the 80-90’s period. The camera has that unshakeable fuzz from the cameras of the era, and the storyline feels rather cliche. The acting is okay, but it’s all young adults - save for a few grown adults posing as young adults. As a group of teens talk in front of a dilapidated cabin, Hector slides into the space next to you, pressing up against your side. You turn to face him, giving him a quick kiss before spreading some of the blanket out over his lap.
“What did I miss?” He asks, but he hasn’t looked at the movie once. His eyes, always and forever, are glued on you.
“That cabin’s haunted, and they’re daring each other to spend the night in it,” You pick up a kernel of popcorn from the bowl Hector’s placed in your lap, and you hesitate before popping it into your mouth. “Rookie mistake.”
“Would you do it?” Hector follows suit, and picks up a kernel after you. He doesn’t take it, though, and instead offers it up against your lips. You roll your eyes with a grin but take it, parting your lips and letting him feed it to you.
“Depends. Would there be someone strong and handsome to keep me safe from the ghosts?” You joke, mostly gesturing to the jock in the movie - but you both know who you really mean.
“Someone would have to be quite stupid to let you go in all alone.” Hector looks to the TV. At this point, the teens have all gone inside - splitting up into their respective partnerships, they all take a different room of the cabin. The obtuse jock and the pretty cheerleader, the older brother and younger sister, leaving the artsy girl and the nerdy boy on their own. The bet is simple - whoever stays in the house the longest wins, and whoever loses will have to face some grand punishment. You admit, you weren’t really listening all that intently. There are six characters in total, and you can’t help but try to figure out who’s going to die first.
Hector’s staring at the TV quite intensely, but you question it. He’s never been huge on digital entertainment before, but this one seems to have unabashedly caught his attention.
“He looks familiar.” Hector points out as the jock is alone on screen. You lean forward, squinting your eyes a bit - and you see what he means.
“Yeah, he looks…kinda like Dunk.” You admit - it’s not a perfect match, but it is strikingly close.
“I think he’s gonna die first.” Hector admits abruptly, and you can’t help but laugh. Right after comparing him to someone Hector isn’t particularly fond of, he wishes death upon him. Your laugh must be infectious, because Hector’s chuckling a bit too.
“The nerd is gonna save them all. He’s in love with the artistic one, but they’re both too shy to say anything.” You guess confidently. You have a soft spot for these movies, but you have to admit - if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.
“Cheerleader’s definitely gonna die.” Hector points out plainly, and you nod.
“Oh, without question. They always do in these flicks.” You continue your predictions with a wave of your hand, and Hector follows along immediately.
“The brother and sister will survive, I think.”
“They might get separated at some point, but I think so too. He’s gonna be the one to go get help from the outside world.”
“My love, I didn’t know you were so proficient in cliche’s.” Hector chuckles again, and turns away from the TV completely. As far as he cares, you two have summed up the entire movie - he doesn’t even need to watch it to know how it ends.
“I used to watch a lot of movies, Hector. A lot.” You admit, a little bit shamefully. You didn’t even enjoy most of the movies you’d seen - only watching them to kill time, even if they were awful.
“My favourite film critic,” Hector leans over to kiss you again, and you happily kiss him back. He takes a moment to kiss around your mouth once you separate - pecking the corners of your lips, your cheek, your chin, and even a few strays to your jawline. You twirl a finger through his hair as he does it, paying more attention to the embrace than anything else. You’re only interrupted by a blood-curdling scream, and you both whip your heads back to the screen. Your noses bump together, and you'd find it cute if you weren't so distracted. When nothing particularly bloody shows up on screen, Hector sighs out “...Rather dramatic, no?”
“Nobody even died!” You roll your eyes, and then you turn your head back to Hector. You cup both sides of his face, steering him back towards you as you both immediately forget what just happened on screen. He offers no objection, placing one of his hands over yours and holding it in place. As enticing as the movie is, you find you’d much rather spend the night looking into Hector’s deep brown eyes. You move one hand to the rim of the bowl between you, picking it up and placing it out of the way. You lean over to put it on the coffee table, and when you move back Hector places his hands on your hips, and guides you to scoot into his lap.
“My love…” He whispers, looking deep into your eyes. The characters on the TV are fighting, accusing each other of something or other but you tune it out. Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to peel your eyes away when you were younger, but now, with your body pressed up against your lover’s you couldn’t care any less. Following a cliche of your own, you kiss him. You kiss him over and over again, deeply and passionately until both your lips are swollen. Your hands are placed on his shoulders, his hands are wrapped around your waist. His hair is soft as silk when it brushes against you, his skin is warm as the noonday sun, he smells of floral soap and expensive shampoo and you find yourself hopelessly addicted to him. His eyes are still closed when you pull away from the kiss, but you can only look at the thin strand of saliva connecting you. You feel the urge to dive back in, and you do exactly that.
You don't stop for what feels like forever - and if you had the sense, you'd realize that you and Hector are acting like the teens in the movie. Hopelessly in love, kissing and crawling atop each other until you lose track of what time it is. Has it been ten minutes, or has it been an hour?
“Should we head upstairs?” You ask, mumbling against his mouth. You’re kiss drunk, and he opens his eyes with great effort to look up at you. You clue back into the movie, and although you aren’t facing the TV you can hear the gang still trying to navigate the haunted abode. Someone’s gone missing, and their room has been trashed. Whether they were the first to go or not, you aren’t sure. You aren't even sure if it's the same movie, if you're honest.
“I wouldn’t argue.” He mumbles in response, but he looks around the room as he starts to snap back into reality. It’s fully night now, the sun having gone down ages ago. The subtle moonlight clashes with the abrasive light of the flatscreen, and Hector paws around for the remote. It’s behind him, though, so you reach past him and grab it. Your chest presses up against his face ever so slightly as you do so, and you hear him try to stutter something out. You’re grinning when you hand it to him, and he looks up at you with a wild look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at the TV as he turns it off, staring at you the entire time. He drops the remote, and lets it fall against the couch cushions behind him.
You move to slide off his lap, and he releases you from his grip. You stand up tall, and stretch your arms above your head. Your bones are grateful. For a brief moment you consider cleaning up the mess you’d made in the kitchen - but you don’t get to think it over for long. Hector stands up behind you, and scoops you up again. Even though it’s the third time in just a few hours, you’re as surprised as you would be if it were the first.
“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, and you gently whack him in the chest again. He starts to walk towards the staircase, never letting his grip falter for even a second.
“I told you I could catch you,” He winks at you, and you feel yourself blush just a bit deeper. “Besides, a victim as pretty as you, did you really think I’d let you just walk away? No, my love, I’m afraid I can’t let you out of my sight.” He shakes his head.
“Oh, no,” You go limp in his arms, acting far more dramatic than necessary. “I’ll never see daylight again.” You turn to face the window as he takes you up the stairs, one by one climbing higher and higher. He’s holding you tightly, careful not to jostle you too much.
“I’ll keep you locked away, forever and ever,” Hector looks down at your face, examining your expression; slack, with your eyes closed, and your eyebrows furrowed in faux discontent. “My perfect beauty.”
“How will you kill me?” You ask, cracking one eye open as he makes his way into the bedroom. He grins down at you, and places you reverently atop your bedsheets.
“My, what a question…” Hector takes a moment to think, looking away from you. When he turns back to meet your gaze, though, he’s grinning that wide, mischievous smile from before. “I think….I think I’ll suffocate you!” With that, he cups your face and kisses you once more, so deeply and passionately that it makes you squeal. He assaults you with an absolute barrage of kisses, pressing his lips against wherever he can reach. You grab onto his arms, where his elbows are bent, and you’re laughing so hard that you can barely breath. Hector’s truly leaving no inch untouched as he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, even atop your closed eyelids and eyebrows. When he finally moves away, he’s a bit breathless - and you’re still laughing, just as hard as before. It makes him chuckle a few times too, and you look at him with nothing but love.
“Can you close the curtains?” You ask him as you sit up, the final few laughs dying on your tongue, and he nods. You stand up as he does it, and you walk over to your dresser to grab your pyjamas. The room is dark now, but you know the way. You open a drawer and pull out your favourite old t-shirt, appreciatively rolling the soft fabric between your fingers for a moment or two. You quickly pull off your sweatshirt, your jeans, and your socks, and you toss them into a pile in your laundry hamper. You slip the t-shirt over your head and you yawn, the overdue wave of sleepiness finally clawing at you. You would have regretted staying up, had it not been a Friday night - you and Hector could sleep in as long as you wanted tomorrow, and you get the feeling you will. You turn around to face Hector, and you see him in the middle of taking off his belt. His shirt is already off, and the fly of his pants is down, and you do your very best to stare as discreetly as possible. He catches you, though, and gives you a knowing look.
“Down, my love.” He teases - you must look hungrier than you realize. You find it especially ironic, after all the pouncing he’d initiated so far. You roll your eyes and move to crawl into bed, pulling the sheets all the way back so there’s enough room for both you and him to crawl in. When he finally kicks his pants off, he folds his clothes up and places them in the same hamper in the corner of the room. He walks over to the bedroom door, closing it as a final act before slipping into bed next to you. It takes only a minute or so for you to become entirely entangled with him - his arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your legs entwined with each other. You sigh, beyond happy with your current situation. He presses a final, sleepy kiss to your forehead, and you respond with one to his chest.
You may not know how the movie ended, but it doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t have missed this time with Hector for the world. You might dream of murderers and ghosts, but when you wake up you’ll be greeted with Hector’s warmth - his steady breathing as his chest rises and falls, the feeling of his warm skin pressed up against your own, and the knowledge that his arms are holding you tight enough to ensure nothing bad ever happens to you again. For all that, you’d endure a million nightmares.