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A roomy, quiet living room was dimly, but colorfully lit. A glow from the TV casting soft, slightly flickering light across the couch where Huxley and Damien sat. The scent of dinner still danced faintly in the air, settling into the still comfort of their space. A small bowl of chips and an assortment of snacks sat between them, though Damien had mostly claimed the blanket, not that he needed it, its warmth tucked snugly around him with just enough thrown over Huxley’s shoulder to make it seem like he was sharing.
“Are we actually watching this, or are we just gonna talk through the whole thing?” Damien asked, adjusting his position and sinking a little deeper into the cushions below.
Huxley smirked, also shifting to get more comfortable himself. “You’re the one still talking.”
Damien was about to argue when the movie’s title card faded in, and with it, the genre tags at the bottom of the screen. His eyes lingered on one in particular before groaning dramatically. “You didn’t say this had a romance tag.”
Huxley, already reaching for a chip, barely glanced at him. “Didn’t think it was important.”
“You know how this goes,” Damien grumbled, a bit irritated, sipping at some drink as he sat up and shifted pillows about. “If there’s even the tiniest romance tag, it’s gonna sneak up on us somehow. I bet by the halfway point, there’s some ridiculous love-at-first-sight subplot bullshit shoved in for no reason.”
Huxley hummed to himself, acting like he wasn’t really listening as he moved the bowl of chips over to Damien’s side. It wasn’t obvious, he had timed it when he wasn’t looking, but he knew how this was going to go.. Dames would eat all of them anyway, and they were his favorite kind too.
His little flame was still talking about, now repositioning the blanket so it covered more of him. “If this is as bad as the last one, you still owe me. I haven’t forgotten that disaster.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Huxley pointed out, adjusting the blanket where Damien had pulled too much of it away.
“You picked it.”
“I picked it based on the trailer. Not my problem they lied.”
Damien narrowed his eyes but seemed to accept the answer, finally settling into place. “You still owe me if this one sucks.”
Huxley just laughed. “Sure.”
The movie started, and despite his complaints, he quickly got drawn in. It was just how he was, once something was playing, he locked into it, getting absorbed in the story whether he meant to or not. Huxley, on the other hand, was only half-paying attention. He was watching, sure, but his focus kept drifting…. to Damien, to the way he curled into the blanket, to how easily he got lost in the film despite his original skepticism.
There were always moments like these when Huxley found himself staring, not at the screen, or into space, but at Damien. The way the glow from the movie illuminated his face, the shifting lights casting shadows that highlighted the sharpness of his jawline, the curve of his lips. It was like the colors on the screen were painting him, turning every little feature into something more stunning than he’d ever realized. He'd look back a few times as the movie played, but Damien didn't notice.
Then it happened.
That classic, overused move. One character suddenly pointing off-screen with an urgent, “Look over there!” The other, unsuspecting of course, turning to follow their gaze, only to look back and be caught completely off guard by a kiss. The moment lingered, framed by soft lighting and a swell of music that made it feel far more dramatic than it had any right to be. It was the kind of romance that didn’t quite fit the rest of the movie, the kind that felt almost too staged, too perfect. Yet, there it was, playing out as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Damien exhaled sharply through his nose, leaning forward slightly as if getting a closer look at the absolute absurdity before him.
“Are you serious,” he muttered, staring at the screen like it had personally offended him. His voice was flat, unimpressed even. “This is going to be another cheesy romance.”
Huxley barely glanced at the screen. “Mm.”
Damien ran a hand down his face, his words dragged every syllable, “This stuff doesn’t happen in real life.”
Huxley gave a small hum of agreement, but there was a distinct amusement in his tone that Dames didn’t seem to pick up on.
“No one actually falls for shit like that–” Damien went on, still focused on the movie. “It’s— Ugh, it’s the same recycled nonsense every time. If someone tried that in real life, I guarantee it wouldn’t work—”
Even as Damien kept ranting, Huxley’s mind had already wandered elsewhere. An idea had rooted itself in his head, something more.. playful? Something fairly stupid, but now he had to see it through.
He stretched, slow and easy, letting his arm fall over the back of the couch, his fingers just barely grazing Damien’s shoulder.
Damien, still ranting, didn’t react right away. He was too caught up in the ridiculousness of the scene. But then, as if on instinct, he shifted, leaning into Huxley’s side. It wasn’t a conscious action, more of a habit, finding warmth, getting comfortable. The blanket adjusted with him, slipping over Hux’s hand, half-covering it as Dames had made himself at home halfway in his arms.
Huxley barely registered the words spilling from Damien’s mouth now, his mind elsewhere, focused on the warmth pressed against his side. His fingers twitched slightly beneath the blanket, and before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Damien’s temple.
The ranting stopped immediately.
Damien blinked, his body tensing just slightly as if his brain had short-circuited mid-sentence. A quiet, confused “Hm?” slipped out before he could stop it, his head just barely tilting toward Huxley.
“That’s one.” Hux murmured, more to himself than anything.
Damien turned fully then, his brow furrowing a bit. “One what?”
Huxley just simpered, settling back into the couch like nothing had happened. “Nothing.”
Damien stared, eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to read into whatever weird bit Huxley had just started. He clearly wasn’t buying it. After a moment, he huffed, grabbed a chip from the bowl and popped it in his mouth, trying to focus back on the movie, letting it go.. for now.
****
Speaking of chips, they ate them all. Well, Damien ate them all.
They found themselves in the kitchen, moving around as they grabbed more snacks. The movie was paused, but neither of them seemed in a hurry to get back to it.
Damien unfolded the remaining half of a chip bag, the plastic crinkling as he poured the rest into a bowl, shaking out the last of the chips they hadn’t finished earlier. There was a slight, almost soundless sigh that escaped him as he leaned forward against the counter. It wasn’t that the movie had been bad, but there was a sense of relief in stepping away from it. The awkward tension that had been creeping in with each scene, the strained dialogues, the very obvious plot holes.. It all felt like a weight off his shoulders now that it was on pause.
Huxley, basically halfway into the fridge trying to pick a drink, let out a low chuckle. He didn’t even need to look at Damien to know how he was feeling. "I don’t know, I kind of liked it... in a weird way," he spoke smoothly, poking his head back up. "I mean, it's bad, but it’s like... entertaining bad. You know?"
Damien raised an eyebrow, tossing a chip from the bowl in his mouth. "Entertaining bad? You’ve got a weird sense of fun."
“You seemed to be into everything else, though.” also raising an eyebrow, half-taunting, half-curious, “Just that?”
Damien stretched, his arms reaching high above his head before reaching back down to flick another chip into his mouth. "And I recognized that guy from the movie we watched a month or two ago. Couldn't unsee it."
The two fell into a silence as they continued setting up their snacks, the only sounds being the rustling of chips and the soft clink of cans on the door on the fridge as it moved. Huxley turned back to said fridge, eyes scanning the clear shelves. He, for some reason, considered grabbing an energy drink. He’d recently bought a new flavor to try, but then shook his head. Too much sugar and they’d be heading to bed soon anyway.
Instead, he grabbed a sort of sparkling drink, reading its label a bit more in the fridge light, then grabbed a second. He set them both on the counter with a small thud, a small smile on his face, weirdly proud of his decision.
At some point, Huxley went past Damien, his hand resting on his hips as he gently moved him to the side to reach for something in the cabinet. His touch was soft, gentle even, but it still made him pause. He continued rifling through the shelves, acting completely unaware of the effect he'd just had on Damien.
He gazed off, slightly taken off guard by the sudden touch. Cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalant as he shifted a little more to the side. "Oh, okay," he mumbled, his voice a bit softer than usual.
Huxley, acting like nothing had happened, didn’t even glance back as he grabbed some sort of snack bar from its shelf. "Hm? I needed to get to the cabinet. You were in my way."
Damien rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite mask the faint, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. "You could’ve just asked.."
"Where’s the fun in that?" Huxley bantered, a wink in his voice even though he wasn’t looking at him. "You were in my way."
Damien shook his head, muttering something under his breath about how Huxley was impossible. But there was no denying the way his chest warmed, a feeling that always hit him a little harder than he wanted to admit. No matter how long they had been together, he always had this way of making him all flushed.
Huxley continued on, rummaging through the fridge now for another drink, grabbing waters this time, while throwing a slight side glance at Damien. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he spoke, "Your taste in chips is honestly confusing." he went on, shaking his head with a more playful grin. "I mean, I’m all for snacks, but you go for the weirdest ones."
Damien pause again, a chip halfway to his mouth, before shrugging him off. "I just like how they taste. And they're pretty low calorie too, so if we finish the bag, it’s not so bad, right?" He seemed to pick up the bag again and start looking at the packaging, squinting to read some of the small lettering before tossing it in the trash. "At least I’m thinking ahead."
Huxley laughed lightly, leaning against the counter with more drinks in hand. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused as what could possibly be going through his little firelights mind. "I’m not sure that’s what I’d call ‘thinking ahead’ but hey, at least you know what you like." He returned a half-shrug in return, as if trying to say, you do you.
Damien scoffed, stuffing another chip into his mouth. He had taken a second to wipe his mouth, but there was a small crumb still sitting at the corner of his lips.
"You’ve got something on your face," Hux teased, pointing over as he watched his poor partner scrub at the wrong side.
"Here?" Damien asked, still wiping in the wrong spot.
"No, the other side.." Huxley said, barely holding back a smile.
He tried again, his brow furrowing as he felt around his face. "Did I get it?"
"No," Huxley replied, a small laugh escaped his lips. "It’s a biiiit lower."
Damien rolled his eyes, ready to keep trying, but Huxley seemed to already decided to take matters into his own hands. He stepped in closer, much closer, his thumb brushing gently against the side of his mouth to wipe the crumb off. The moment felt like forever, Huxley’s touch a little more tender than it needed to be, his eyes looking into his a little too long. You'd think this was a truly romantic moment, but it was really another step in his plan. Surprisingly, without thinking too hard, he pressed a quick kiss to Damien’s cheek, pulling back with a smug grin.
It was just a kiss. Simple, quick, nothing dramatic. And yet, it wasn’t just that. Huxley had kissed him before, sure— a forehead press in passing, a little goodnight peck, even the occasional teasing kiss to the back of his hand when he was being particularly buggy about something. But this? This felt different. Maybe because it was so sudden, so smooth, so intentional. Like Huxley had decided this moment meant something, and Damien, against his wit and sharp instincts, had no choice but to feel it.
“That’s two.” Huxley said, the smirk still present, almost daring Damien to say something.
Caught off guard but quickly recovering. "Wait, two? You—" rubbing at his face, not quite sure how to react. "You’re weird." he muttered under his breath, brushing off the unexpected kiss.
Huxley didn't comment, just letting Damien sit in his confusion. But as Damien shifted awkwardly, trying to focus on the chips and avoid meeting Huxley’s gaze, Huxley noticed the slight flush on his cheeks. It made him grin, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
Now clearly trying to move on, Dames grabbed the bowl of chips, straightening up and turning toward the living room. "We have enough snacks," he said, attempting to sound casual. "Let’s just finish the movie, alright?"
Huxley didn’t respond immediately. He could tell, without even needing to ask, that the kiss had gotten to Damien more than he was letting on. The way he avoided looking at him, the slight hesitation in his movements… It was all too obvious.
He watched his hotheaded boyfriend basically speed walk back into the living room with the rest of the chips, but his mind was already working on what he could do next. He couldn't possibly get as cliche to convince Dames to play truth or dare, and there was nothing worth a "good luck" kiss, nothing he'd trip into his arms over, but he'd figure it out. It was almost surprising that Damien hadn’t caught on yet, especially with how sly he’d been trying to be about it. But maybe he was just too distracted, too wrapped up in pretending the kiss hadn’t thrown him off so much to find any connection.
That only made it more fun.
Huxley looked way too pleased with himself as he followed, planting the drinks he picked out so carefully onto a small table before flopping back onto the couch beside his partner. The movie was still paused, frozen on some overly dramatic shot. Damien clicked play without saying a single word, his gaze fixed on the screen as if it were the only thing that mattered.
****
The movie was long over, but Damien wasn’t done complaining about it.
“I’m picking the next movie.” he sighed as he flopped onto the bed, arms spread out, almost stretching. “Something with action, maybe a good fight scene— really anything to get away from all that cheesy romance crap.” He shook his head at the ceiling, still appalled. “I’ll never get over how we wasted snacks on that.”
Huxley chuckled as he kicked off his socks, stretching himself before tugging his shirt off. “You say that like it’s not your fault we ran out in the first place.”
Damien shot him a glare before rolling onto his side. “Whatever.” He let out yet another sighed, exhaustion finally catching up to him.
Hux, now sitting on the bed beside him, glanced over, only to be met with a slightly grouchy look in return.
“You wanna take that off? Room’s already warm enough as it is. You could heat this whole apartment just by glaring at me a little harder…”
Damien groaned but sat up, lazily tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Not my fault..” he grumbled on. “The heating’s just messed up.”
“Mmhmm..” Huxley hummed, scooting a bit closer. “Here, lemme help.”
Damien let out a small, tired noise but didn’t argue, willingly lifting his arms as Huxley helped pull the shirt over his head. And then, right when his head was still halfway through the fabric, Huxley leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. But this time, it wasn’t just a quick peck— of course not. His lips seemed to be fixated on his, pressing deeper, slower, his body leaning into Damien’s just enough to make him tilt back slightly. The warmth between them grew, along with a slow pull that made it seem, for just a moment, like this was leading to something more.
Huxley’s hands were still working the fabric up and over his arms, his fingers grazing his skin as he pulled the shirt free. Half-dressed, eyes close, the kiss still hanging between them, it made the air feel heavier, thicker, hotter.. And just when it felt like it could turn into something else, just when Damien might’ve let himself melt into it, Huxley pulled away, casual as ever, like nothing had happened.
“Aaand that’s three.” he hushed out, smiling almost ear to ear as he tossed Damien’s shirt aside.
Damien’s brain short-circuited for a second. Heat rushed up his neck, and suddenly, he was way too aware of how close they were, of Huxley’s bare skin, the confidence in his voice, the look in his eyes. The room was warm, but this was worse because it wasn’t just the temperature making his body feel like it was on fire.
He could feel Huxley’s gaze on him, even without looking, and it made every part of him tense. His heart pounded harder as he tried to shake off the little awkwardness. Instead of addressing it, he just huffed, an attempt to cover the nervousness swirling inside him, before swiftly turning away.
He swung his legs up onto the bed with more force than necessary, creating space between them. He was quick to reach for the blankets, yanking them up and over his shoulders, all but throwing himself beneath them. The sheets crinkled as he tucked himself in, deliberately keeping his back to Huxley, as if the distance would somehow calm the fluttering in his chest.
Huxley, watching this all go down, just let out a quiet laugh as he settled in bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“So..” he mused, voice low. “You gonna ask why I’ve been so weird all day, or just pretend you haven’t noticed?”
Damien scoffed. “So you have been doing something.”
Huxley grinned, pressing his forehead lightly against Damien’s shoulder. “Just thought it’d be funny to see if I could pull off all those cheesy romance movie moves on you. Y’know, since you claim to be sooo above them.”
Damien’s jaw dropped slightly, and then he let out a sharp, almost disbelieving laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“But it worked.” Huxley said, smug. “You totally fell for it.”
“I did not!”
“Did too.”
Damien groaned, grabbing and burying his face into his pillow. “You’re annoying.”
“And yet…” Huxley teased.
“…I love you.” The words returned were softer, quieter, so much so that Huxley almost missed them. But he caught them.
His grip around Damien tightened slightly, and Damien, despite himself, relaxed into the touch around him.
“I know,” Huxley mumbled into his back. “Love you too, Dames.”