Fluent in Fanboy

“I wasn’t.” 

It’s a lie that he tells with a smile, wide and earnest, as his arms loop around Derrick’s waist. They’d both been petrified, and for good reason. But now, as this perfect night winds down around them, Hector can’t remember what anything other than this particular peace feels like. Not that he’s trying too hard to, anyway.

“M’gonna hop in the shower,” he explains on the tail of yet another kiss. Reluctantly, he pulls himself free from Derrick’s embrace before moving deeper into the apartment. His shirt’s already halfway off as he heads into the bathroom, “Make yourself at home, okay?”

The door closes, then opens again as Hector pokes his head out. His grin goes lopsided as he adds, “Orrr feel free t’join me. Ladies’ choice.”

A minute doesn’t pass before Phil’s head pokes out from behind an adjacent bedroom door. Making sure the coast is clear, his whispers urgently to Derrick, “Do you wanna see my Xbox? I have Lego Marvel Superheros.”

Derrick attempts to not smile at Hector’s offer only to utterly fail. The door shuts, and he briefly considers slipping into the shower with his boyfriend. Though he doesn’t get to follow through on that when Phil makes a reappearance with an offer he can’t refuse. It melts his heart a little to even be asked, and how can he say no? Technically, Phil is supposed to be getting ready for bed, but what Hector doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 

“Sure.” 

Walking into Phil’s bedroom almost feels nostalgic. Superhero posters plaster the walls, but Spiderman is the reigning champion, swinging on webs across the bed’s comforter and pillow cases. It’s not unlike his childhood bedroom---only Derrick had been a bit sloppier. This room almost seems too orderly to belong to a child. 

Hector flashes an impossible smile against Derrick’s mouth. To feel the man move against him, and with such enthusiasm, is a sinful treat. He’d expected Derrick to recoil; to turn away with an embarrassed laugh and batting eyes, his hands raised to divide them. As their bodies connect instead, Hector can feel himself rousing with the sudden, undeniable friction.

“Yeah…” is all he can think to say--to breath out–as he glances down between them, watching mesmerized as their hips roll in tandem. Derrick’s already got him panting,and wanting more. His hands squeeze deep inside the other’s pockets, grasping firmly at Derrick’s backside as he pushes up against the mirrors.

“God, you’re sexy.” He moves to assault Derrick’s neck again, teasing his teeth along the other’s heated skin, “I can hardly help myself.”

A soft groan sounds in the back of Derrick’s throat when Hector’s fingers dig into his flesh. His head lolls back against the mirror with a dull thud, and a shiver rolls through his whole body at the feeling of teeth. Fever---it feels like he has one: face, neck, and chest heated with a red blush. Hector’s shirt is caught between his hands, balled in his fists, and Derrick doesn’t remember when he did that, lost between all the sensations he’s feeling. 

     "Oh, Derrick, no! I would never send you outside when we have no idea what we could be dealing with!“ It was not in June’s intentions to openly show fret. These words popped out her mouth with no thought and furthermore, no control.

      “There was not always music playing like when we initially signed in. As you slept - and I too had my eyes shut for a moment, there was silence. I only awoke to the sound of resumed music. As I further became in-tune with my surroundings, so to speak, I came to realize there were the sounds of two in the room beside us. Both these voices belonging to men!” 

    “I can tell you little as to how their conversation went before the yelling commenced.” While speaking, June pays mind to Derrick’s exhausted face. Hoping his mind is alert so he can follow along. June would hate to repeat any of this in an area where she’s certain the walls are thin.     “In time I heard this scream - no, this roar of absolute fury! The music reached higher levels and no longer did I hear the voice of the other party! Though!! Within ten minutes at best, I did begin to hear him enter and exit from his room. Repeatedly.”     

    It’s the mention of yelling that sends a jolt through him. Dread is quick to follow, oozing over his heart and making his stomach feel full of lead. What she’s describing sounds more like an argument gone wrong. Nobody might be hurt, but at the same time, perhaps someone did get hurt and the guilty party is next door cleaning up the mess. That’s not a chance they should take if the other party is in dire need. His heart skips, the harsh stop many people feel when missing a step on the stairs. 

Phil pauses in his artistic endeavor, crayons stilling over the place mat. He flashes a smile that shows off a couple of proud gaps, hinting at some recent visits from the tooth fairy. He looks Derrick over intently before nodding his approval, “Good choice.”

For Hector, dinner whirls by as quickly as breakfast had that morning. He’s at immediate ease in Derrick’s company. His heart sings every time Phil voices his approval. He watches with joy as the two hit it off, eagerly discussing their mutual love of games and comic books. A certain word comes to mind that almost steals his breath. It’s not an entirely unpleasant feeling, though it is certainly unfamiliar.

Family.

After gluttonous rounds of milkshakes, burgers, and fries, the actor picks up the check and corrals everyone outside, one hand closed around Phil’s while the other rests on the small of Derrick’s back. He leads the pair up the few blocks back to his flat, smiling softly throughout the journey. It’s almost as if he’s floating with every step towards home–another word that feels particularly new and warm.

“Alright bud,” he sighs out as they step through the front door. A clumsy kick removes his boots by the closet, “Pajamas, teeth, bed. You know the drill.”

As Phil goes to follow orders, Hector steals a kiss from Derrick in the foyer, “Make yourself comfortable, guapo.”

The evening passes with ease and far too many french fries. By the time they leave, Derrick’s stomach is hurting, but he hardly cares. All the gloom and doom he thought could have happened didn’t. If anything, he feels like he belongs with them.  

His heartstrings twist themselves into knots at the thought. He hasn’t romantically fit into someone else’s life in years, and it’s another ball of wax entirely to try to be a part of their family. But it’s how they feel---like family. 

Those thoughts are still buzzing around in his head when they reach Hector’s place. Derrick returns the kiss, but he doesn’t let Hector get away that easily. Arms wind around the other man’s neck, pulling him in close. 

     “Oh dear…” June sweeps a hand through unruly locks. She sounds guilty - but feels no such thing. The tenseness, the pitiful disdain in her tone all stems from the heavy anxiety draped over her shoulders. “You may but–! Listen to me before you leave, won’t you?”  

    “If you can’t find him, don’t worry about it – though actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t find him. Between you and I, I’m not capable of being a cook for a household of three. You must always think about those you have to take care of in your home!” In truth, Sal thinks he definitely could not bare to get a glimpse of a plastic Sonny who, likely holds the same features as the Don in he keeps in arms. The square face, the button eyes, the lack of lips - this old man has seen enough ugliness for the day.  

     “Forever, really.” She cannot leave her answer as that. Derrick would come to learn this in five, four, three, two –     “I haven’t kept up with the time,” is admitted. “The sounds have just been on a continuous loop and it has me feel as if I’ve been enduring this for an infinite amount of hours, honestly. And of course, you were sleeping. I endured this alone.” June forgets to note no, she is not shaming him for his rest. “So in my solitude I had been thinking - and wondering with good reason -”     How does June say: ‘I think we’ve been placed beside criminals’ and sound reasonable? Sleep deprived - but self-aware ( enough. ) this older woman believes she can only take this topic on slowly.      “Whether there had been more than what meets the eye to the character in our midst.” 

      The mattress squeaks as his weight shifts, legs being swung around to the side of the bed. A soft grumble escapes him as he tries to rake his fingers through the tangled mess that is his bedhead stricken hair.

  Derrick looks up at her, expression tired but neutral. She sounds like the dramatic protagonist in a murder mystery, and this likely will require some action on his part, something that’ll put her mind at ease like the light being left on when they started their journey. Another long day of driving is ahead, and he really could use another three or so hours to recuperate.