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hotchocolatelovesyou · 1 year

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Look who's inside again (Robert Small x Dadsona)

Alex was Hector's (Dadsona) wife and Amanda's biological mother.

English is not my first language so please be kind.

Love y'all!

Tw: depression and suicidal thoughts

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Hector was tired. Very tired.

No.

Empty. Apathetic.

Everything required so much strength.

He only managed to roll to his side, still hugging the pillow.

It shouldn't have been this hard, why was it? Why now? He was supposed to be happy. Happy, content, glad that his Amanda was starting to do what she loved so soon. He was proud, so fucking proud of his daughter. And yet, he couldn't shake off him this irritating sensation of being left behind.

Urgh.

He had managed to keep his mask on the whole time, when Manda finally explained her plans in detail during one of their latest video chats. That hadn't been too hard, though. She was so full of fire, her hands coming up to gesticulate as they always did when Amanda was talking about something that excited her.

Val had been introduced to a project that had a spot open for a photographer, and she immediately asked Amanda if she was interested. They didn't require that much experience, but Val informed her the work would occupy the Christmas holidays: it was more than likely that it wouldn't end until the first few weeks of January.

Amanda accepted on the spot, obviously. Why wouldn't she?

Hector was very happy for the bright woman he had raised. She was ambitious, passionate, creative, pure. Hector was excited to see where her decisions would have led her, the path she was creating for herself every step of the way.

But...

Fuck.

Was he happy for his baby? Absolutely.

Was he very grateful to Val for the opportunity she offered to Manda? For sure.

Was he okay with the fact that Manda would have spent the rest of her Christmas holidays working, away from him again? Not really.

Did it matter? Absolutely fucking not. She was happy, that was the most important thing.

It's just... he had so many activities planned, he had even bought two tickets for an amusement park that had recently opened nearby (not that near, but not that far). They were supposed to watch movies and drink hot chocolate in silly cups. He was waiting for her to make the Christmas tree and put on decorations all over the house.

They loved Christmas, it was their holiday.

And now? This would've been the first year they were going to spend it apart.

It made Hector feel like a deer struck by headlights. He didn't know what to do, his brain had been so occupied by ideas for when his daughter would be back at home that now his mind was entirely silent, empty.

To be fair, things were already starting to spiral down way before he got the news. He had been quick to recognize the fatigue that daily tasks were beginning to require: he was familiar with the way his thoughts were becoming darker and darker by the day. Leaving the house was so hard sometimes, he had already sneaked a lie here and there a few times to gently tell Robert and Mary he wasn't going out that night or the night after that (to be honest, he often wanted to add, it's very likely you won't see me for a while).

He had tried to cheer himself up by thinking of his daughter and the time they'd spend together, obviously aware that he couldn't let her see him like this. Amanda had witnessed him in those conditions just once, and he promised himself to never let her see that side of him ever again.

He could try to do better, at least for the few days she'd be home. He knew he could. It would require a bit of strength, but he could do it.

And now... well, there was no need to pretend now, was it?

A few weeks ago he was searching for Amanda's gift. Nothing seemed quite right, at one point he just decided to get a break and started wandering around in a library. He had eyed this book about Diane Arbus and was curiously flipping the pages when he received the phone call.

Amanda's energy was bursting through the phone and he couldn't help but be swept away by her contagious exuberance. It took a while for his brain to start catching up.

" At the end of the day, it's just a holiday, there are many others we are going to spend together. But, like, apart from that, I couldn't stop thanking her! It was embarrassing, really. She could-"

"Wait. So are we... you're not coming home for Christmas?" Amanda stopped abruptly and kept quiet for a second. A very long second.

"Dad, listen. We talked about this." He had the strange urge to caress his chest, sensing a familiar 'something' in the middle of it. He had to put the book back on the shelf.

"We know this could have happened, I-"

"I didn't expect it to be that soon" interrupted Hector. He gulped and quickly left the shop. Amanda sighted.

"I know and I'm sorry if it's so sudden, but I couldn't let this opportunity go. Carpe diem, you know? It's... it's the right thing to do." Hector was searching for a quiet place where he could sit, and even found one, but right when he was in front of the solitary bench, turned back on his heels, without stopping. It was just better to have this conversation in his car.

"It happened very suddenly for me too, by the way. She called me and proposed it. I still haven't realised that I actually said yes."

Hector was speed-walking to his car, a fist around the keys, so tight he had to force himself to relieve some pressure or they would break. He knew himself well enough to be aware that the future-him could start crying at any time.

"When..." He needed to clear his voice. "When did she ask you that?"

There was silence and a movement from the other side. When Amanda was ready to speak again, he was fumbling with the car door's entrance.

"A week ago." It was Hector's turn to be quiet. He stilled for a second, allowing himself to fully absorb the information. He cleared his throat again.

"Why did you choose to tell me this just now?" His tone was sure but his voice still trembled a bit, he cursed himself for it. He opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He had to remind himself to close it, his hands a bit shaky.

"I didn't know how to tell you." Hector sighed and covered his eyes with his free hand. It was only one sentence, yet he understood very well what she meant.

"I'm sorry" she said again. He could picture her: telephone in hand, legs crossed on her bed, worryingly biting her lip. It was a nervous habit she got from her mother.

"Don't. You have nothing to apologize for." He meant it, he genuinely did. Hector also hoped she could hear the affection in his voice.

"Tell me about this offer, then" he added before she could say something else. She seized the opportunity immediately, probably relieved to change the tone of the phone call.

"They also offered me a place to stay! I'll probably have a roommate, too. Eh, can't be worse than this one. You should see this room, is full of her socks. It's not--hey! It's not like I'm lying, bird." Bird? Is that how Manda was calling her now? He had seen her college roommate a few times, in their video calls. From what he could tell, they shared an awesome friendship. Well, that's what his daughter told him anyway (she talked about her a lot, like, a lot).

"Luna says hi, dad!" she informed him. Then, a bit more privately, "I think you'd like each other." He nodded, knowing dang well they couldn't see him.

"Tell her I said hi, too. Does she still have grey hair?"

"They are white now!" answered excitedly a third voice. Hector heard Amanda laugh, his heart felt a bit lighter at that.

They chatted for a while and the conversation ended in much cheerful tones. Hector was truly grateful for it.

Yet, he was unable to stop that single tear from rolling down his cheek on his way home.

The following week, Hector didn't leave his cell phone for more than ten minutes, constantly waiting for any updates. He talked with Val a few times, too. Surprisingly enough, it was her who reached out to him; Hector half suspected Manda had something to do with it.

Val had personally checked the little flat where Amanda and one of her future coworkers would have stayed, keeping them updated. The flat was an offer by the company but, surprisingly enough, it wasn't the shitty hole Hector expected it to be. He was pretty sure Val did a bit of her magic. She was even informed about Manda's future roommate, admitting that she seemed pretty decent. Hector wanted to ask for more pieces of information, though he had to hide his disappointment when Val stopped him, affirming she couldn't reveal more.

In all honesty, Val's presence was one of the very few things that didn't let him completely freak out; he trusted her with Amanda, and if she was anything like her father, people would have been smart enough to not mess with someone under her wing.

Well, Hector couldn't imagine anyone voluntarily bothering his daughter, she was too lovable, though one can never know. It also really helped that Val had been working with the company for years; it seemed like she was very well-respected.

Hector low-key (actually, very high-key) admired that when they talked, Val always sounded as if she was the boss or well, someone with enough power to not be worried. Maybe she was. Hector never dared to ask too much, afraid to seem rude after all Val's attention to Amanda.

Anyways. Everything was good.

His Manda Panda had already left a few days ago, ready for her flight, after a bear-squeezing hug. He went to a different State to finally hug her in her person, in the airport closest to her. He kind of arranged for it to be a surprise, not letting a word slip out because she might have tried to stop him or change his mind, not wanting to bother him. As if. Hector wasn't letting anyone stop him; it did help that he hadn't told anyone what the fuck he was doing or had been doing for the past two weeks (not that there was much to say).

He wasn't going to let his baby go without even fucking hugging her. He knew that they both needed it, anyways. Indeed, the smile that sparkled on her face when she saw him was one of pure joy, a sight he dearly missed. The hug they shared restored his soul.

She had changed, alright. Her hair was longer, she didn't wear either her favourite green jacket or the yellow ribbon anymore. She was officially a woman. A brilliant, creative, original, beautiful woman. But she was still his baby, she will always be - so who the fuck cared if he had to drive a few hours to see her?

"Are you sure we are not forgetting anything?" asked him, still hugging her.

"I am not. And even if I did, it's kinda too late now." Hector squeezed her a bit tighter. Amanda reciprocated, sniffing his shirt.

She allowed another moment before letting him go. She smiled at him while Hector was fighting to keep the waterworks off.

"Love you, dad." She grabbed the handle of her big suitcase, ready to go.

"Love you too, Manda Panda" answered Hector, gently grabbing her face to kiss her on her forehead.

"And don't forget your old man." It should have seemed like a joke, but Hector's strained voice didn't help.

Amanda smiled, her own eyes tearing a bit.

"Never."

Hector sank his face into the pillow. Children always forget their parents, it was just the way of life. Shit, when was the last time he had spent time with his parents? When was the last time Amanda saw her grandparents in person?

Was he a bad son? Was he a bad father? Had Amanda already forgotten him?

She hadn't texted him last night, and he was going to start a round of phone calls but stopped himself. He had to trust her. She was an adult, maybe she was just out with friends. He had to trust her.

He didn't sleep anyway, waiting. She sent him a text at six in the morning, with a beautiful sunrise picture and an apology, explaining her phone died. He replayed immediately, doing his best to sound okay, wishing her a good morning.

He had been resisting a headache for half the night but couldn't be bothered to get up and take an aspirin. He was used to it. He probably wouldn't have slept regardless; he'd been dealing with insomnia for months, nights like this one were worse than others. It was okay: Hector had been in these situations many times.

Nothing would have helped anyways, not right now.

Bullshit, whispered the deepest part of him.

He'd always been a pretty contemplative guy, someone who always spent too much time in his head. It hadn't been exactly by his will then, if he allowed his soul to whisper - and yet something, buried so deep inside that seemed lost, just never stopped screaming - all those attentions, those touches, that could have indeed at least lightened his 'circumstances'.

It was the first time in his life, after many years, that he was totally alone. He had friends now, sure, but was it enough? At his age, it wasn't like he could plan pyjama parties just because he felt... whatever.

No one knew that his mental health had deteriorated so much and so fast, anyways. No one asked.

It didn't matter much anyways, this deep feeling of loneliness had been with him since he'd lost Alex, and with Amanda away, the bitter sentiment just became more accentuated. He was at fault for that, why should anyone else be involved?

Only Robert could have... maybe...? Then again, no one asked.

He hadn't seen either Robert or Mary (or both) in the past two weeks, too preoccupied with his Manda and what his fucking mental health enabled him to do. He had turned off the notifications during the long drive to the airport and certainly didn't turn them on when he was with Amanda. He was so exhausted and mentally drained later that it took him two days to notice Robert's texts, on Christmas Eve.

Hector did reply, apologizing for such a late answer too, but that was all he could do at the moment, so he immediately shut his phone off after it.

He remembered his phone kind of freaking out when he turned it on again for all the texts wishing him a happy Christmas or something.

Irritated by his brain only permitting 15 minutes of sleep at a time, he didn't answer any of them - he was going to meet all the senders in person later anyways. Joseph had invited everyone to a party to celebrate Christmas together the same night.

Hector had forced himself so hard to go, only to come back to his house an hour later. He was sure it was precisely an hour because he had counted the minutes, like the fucking loser he was.

He showered, tried his best to style his hair, brushed his teeth, wore his dumb Christmas jumper (pretended to ignore that Amanda also would have worn one with him) and... hah, and searched the strength to go.

It wasn't a bad party, to be fair: the music was nice, everyone was chatting, maybe exchanging gifts (he thanked whoever was up there to have bought everyone's gifts just in time, right before this 'thing' came). Not bad at all.

Oh well, yeah, except for the not-fun part where he had viscerally wished to be in his bed the whole time.

The lights seemed to hit too much, the usual pleasant chatter overwhelmed him: every time someone wanted to talk with him, time seemed to agonizingly slow down.

Everyone kept asking him about Amanda.

He tried to stay in his angle of the room, but it felt... wrong. He decided it was finally time to go when he heard Robert's laugh (one of the few tolerable sounds) from the other side of the room, at a completely opposite spot where Hector was straining his back in the vain attempt to be engulfed by the walls.

It suddenly hit him that there was no real reason for him to stay.

He quickly excused himself, blaming a terrible headache (not really a lie, not exactly the truth). He gave everyone their respective gifts, threw a forced smile, avoided eye contact with anyone for more than strictly necessary and turned on his heels. He must have looked so pathetic.

He started crying the second his door closed behind him, his body slowly sliding down.

He was pathetic, wasn't he? Alex would have been so disgusted by the man he had become.

He had crawled to his room, removed his clothes and dived into his bed, covers raised till only some of his hair was visible.

And that's how Christmas went.

It was now morning, in one of those days between Christmas and New Year's Eve, when nothing truly happens and everything floats in the air.

Hector closed his eyes after staring at the wall for hours. He had been thinking about Alex the whole time. Unsurprisingly. His mind always went back to her when things got this dark. He couldn't stop asking himself if she was waiting for him, wherever she was.

If they'd reconnected a bit too soon, would she be disappointed? It would've been something quick, just a little pain and then he'd be done. Were her eyes going to be the first thing he'd have seen, then?

Oh, the other Dads would've been shocked at the news, no one could have seen it coming. Hector? A suicide? Who could have guessed it.

He ran his hands over his face, exhausted.

A small, little scandal for a small, little community, Hector thought, a bit too cynical.

Would have anyone actually cared? A few tears here and there, and then everyone back to their usual lives. Hector's presence had never been a big deal, how different could his absence be?

He had learned to stop these thoughts when Manda was still a child, he was not going to let his child suffer again. Not that soon.

Yet... now she wasn't a child anymore, was she? She had friends and a wonderful future ahead of her. She wasn't alone now. It could have been easier, maybe.

And his neighbours were fine. Robert had just proved to him that he was going to be just fine without him, avoiding and distancing him. What was stopping Hector from doing anything?

You're a coward. A fucking coward, that's who you are. Hector felt tears forming at the end of his eyes at the hissing tones of his mind.

But then, another whisper inside his mind, this time clearer and more stable. Stop this. You don't want to actually do it. You have never wanted to do it, even where you were at your lowest. Stop all of this. Persevere. You know people care about you, you know this could completely destroy Manda's life. It will break Robert. Mary, Craig and the others would absolutely lose it.This shit will get better, you already know it.

Thinking was so tiring.

He hugged the pillow tighter and closed his eyes, pretending to wait for sleep.

He knew it wouldn't be coming soon. He was almost on the verge of it (why was every second so fucking long?), when someone ringing his door made him jump.

He stupidly wondered if Alex had come back, very sleep-deprived, but when he took his phone to check the time (12:23 am), a notification from Amanda's chat popped up: it was a photo of a sleepy old pigeon, which she captioned simply with 'you.', not too far from his actual state. Hector sent her a laughing emoji, before putting the phone down and closing his eyes again.

The doorbell rang a second time.

He couldn't be disturbed to give a fuck, at the moment.

A few seconds passed before the doorbell rang for the third time. He mindlessly recognised he had to use the bathroom. Was it worth it to get up though?

Then it was his phone's turn to buzz. Hector declined, not even checking who it was. It wasn't Amanda, she had her own ringtone.

"Hector, if you don't open your fucki-if you don't open the door, I will break it!" shouted Robert, so loud that he could hear him from his bedroom. Hector's eyes snapped open. His usual warm and husky voice was thundering, but it did not hide in the slightest the worried tone. Why would he be worried?

"I'm gonna count to ten," stated Robert, and he could picture him with a shoulder on the door, arms and legs crossed, head close to its surface in the hope of hearing any sound inside.

Hector had forgotten he was naked. It should have worried him more.

"One... two..." Honestly, he didn't care in the slightest. Robert could do whatever he wanted to the piece of wood, burn it, break it, whatever; it was up to him. He would have bought another when he'd felt better. Or maybe not. He wasn't rich. Even if someone entered the house, it's not like they'd found anything good. Maybe the tv?

"Three... four... five..." Hector debated with himself if getting up, wearing pants, walking all the way to the door and having to face people was worth a door. The night before he had only found the strength to remove his clothes, he wasn't wearing any pyjamas. His boxer went down with his jeans by mistake, but Hector hadn't made a big deal about it: he wasn't going to leave his house or his bed that soon. At least, that had been the plan.

He was alone, after all.

"Eight... nine... nine and a quarter..." He rolled his eyes, trying to find something he could wear. The wardrobe was so far.

"Six... seven..." It wasn't simply people, though, was it? It was Robert. One of the most handsome men he had ever seen, eyes he lost his gaze in more times than he could count, getting very passionate about movies when he's drunk, "Imma fuck you up if you hurt the people I care about" Robert. Hector sighed.

"... Nine and a half... nine and two quarters..." continued Robert's voice. Hector got tired of thinking once again and wrapped the bed sheets around himself; the bed was already a mess because of his continuous tossing and turning.

"Okay, fuck, ten!" he heard Robert announce. The words made Hector hurry up before the wait could have created any real trouble.

What if he was going to hurt himself? Hector could have never forgiven himself if Robert hurt himself for such a dumb reason.

He opened the door slightly, just peeking his head out. He half-expected to find Robert taking a few steps back, ready to break the entrance down, but nope.

He was on his knee - he knew he was in pain because Robert always complained about his knees - and his hands were holding a thin piece of metal in the door's lock. Luckily for him, Hector opened the door just to fit his head out, he might have hit Robert right in the face otherwise.

When he met Hector's eyes, the surprise of having a door almost smacked to his nose was still readable. Or maybe he was just surprised to see Hector. Whatever, one of those two things.

His worried face dropped down just for a second before getting back up. Hector tried not to notice how everyone and their offsprings were exactly in front of his house, on Joseph's lawn. Almost all the dads were glancing at him and Robert, pretending to be busy helping the blonde man or playing with the children.

The kids, without Amanda, looked bored out of their life.

Mary was watching him too, and a sigh of relief escaped from her mouth; Hector watched her mouth open slightly and her chest go up and down. She raised her glass of wine. Hector lowered his head a bit, in an exchange of greeting.

His eyes immediately got back on Robert.

Robert got up with a grunt, getting closer to Hector, his broad shoulders protecting him from the curious sights of others.

"Can I come in?" he asked, studying Hector's face. The younger man didn't reply, he just disappeared behind the doorway, hand on the handle to open it slightly more. Robert slipped in.

Hector closed the door and immediately felt his body weight too much, gently pushing his back to the surface behind him. One of his hands was still on the handle, the other one was holding the sheet around himself.

He stayed there, with his body leaning against the door. He let his head tilt back, chin up, but kept his eyes focused on Robert's back. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, but it seemed... like it was a bit shiner, cleaner. His shoulders went up and down, Hector could hear him taking a big sigh. It was clear that Robert was taking in the house's condition. It was not the first time he was there, they had watched a few movies together at least once a month (with Mary usually present and Hector always trying too much to not make things awkward when she was not), so he knew. He knew the difference.

The windows were closed, the curtains only let in a few rays of sunshine because Hector hadn't shut them properly and didn't have it in him to fix them. The kitchen was clean, pristine. A bag of chips, essentially still full, and a half-full glass of water were on the table. The remote lied dusty on the armchair's sit, he hadn't used it for weeks; the pillows were in order on the couch, untouched as well.

The kitchen and the living space were pretty okay, Hector wasn't worried about it.

His bedroom was a completely different story, but Robert wasn't going to check his bedroom. Why the fuck would he have to enter his bedroom, anyway?

When he turned around, he found Hector already watching him. Pff, as if he was going to look somewhere else when he was right in front of him.

Robert's gaze softly met his. Hector still had his head resting on the door, his blue tied to Robert's deep brown.

"What's going on, Hector?" he asked, his tone kind and low as if to not disturb the weird pace floating in the house.

He didn't answer, completely turning his head back and exposing adam's apple. He swallowed, closing his eyes. He was aware of Robert's piercing gaze on him and his body. Maybe, on other occasions, he would have languidly lingered in it.

Nothing is going on, go back to the others, he wanted to say. He couldn't. He was so tired, only craving to go back to bed. Even standing up required a power he wasn't sure he had at the moment.

A cold touch on his cheeks surprised him. He let Robert's gentle hands cup his face, lowering it to the point he knew Hector would be watching him and only him. Robert saw the deep eyebags under Hector's eyes, identified the fatigue in them, noticed how chapped his lips were, and caught the way his cheekbones seemed sharper.

"What's going on?" asked Robert again, somehow sounding even softer. His eyes were anchored in Hector's ones and made sure that they wouldn't leave his. Hector bit his lip to death, attempting to stop his eyes from watering.

It was the closeness, the intimacy in Robert's eyes. It was the way his thumb was lightly stroking Hector's cheek. What was the last time someone touched him like this? So innocently, so wholeheartedly? Like... like he mattered?

He tried to open his mouth but closed it again, his eyes shifting to Robert's eyes, one first and then the other. In the low light, they seemed more mysterious, full of untold secrets, stories only his lips could reveal. More by instinct than by will, his gaze fell down on them. Hector realized too late that he had been staring a second too long at Robert's plump mouth.

He immediately looked up, but he only met wrinkles of worry on the older man's forehead. He wanted to smooth them out with his hand, but his arm felt so heavy on his side.

Hector had almost forgotten he was only wearing his bedsheets. That was so fucking embarrassing. Robert shouldn't have ever seen him like this. He was the one to take care of, not the other way around. What the fuck was this now?

He suddenly remembered they had been standing for a while when Robert was probably still in pain from kneeling in front of his door.

It took all his being to do it, especially because he wouldn't have liked doing this even in normal circumstances, though he brought his free hand on Robert's chest - it was hard and soft at the same time. Somewhere in Hector's mind, he wondered how his skin would have felt under his lips - and ever so gently pushed him away. Robert immediately got the message and let him go.

Hector pointed to the couch with his arm, waiting for him to get the hint again, still not talking. He did, going to sit down, watching him and probably expecting to sit down too.

Hector went to take a chair from the table instead and placed it in front of Rober.

"What are you...?" Hector was gone again, the sheet still wrapped around his hips, hold in place by his hand.

He came back to him with an ice pack, handing it to Robert.

He took it, perplexed, glancing confused at the chair. Hector rolled his eyes. Robert raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed.

"I don't read minds, you know. I don't-" Hector swiftly got down to grab Robert's ankle and positioned it on the chair. He then clutched a pillow and placed it under Robert's leg. The bearded man watched his action with true wonder in his eyes. Then when he understood what Hector was doing, laughed softly.

"Thanks man, but uh, it's the other leg." Hector, who was taking the ice from Robert's hands, at the words stopped. He looked at the leg for a second and plumped down on the sofa, next to him, defeated.

Robert switched to the right leg and observed him.

It wasn't right, seeing Hector like this. He was a sunny, funny guy. He brought light wherever he went. Robert had never seen his eyes so... empty, lifeless.

"I appreciate it anyway. Thank you." Hector nodded, but it seemed like even the smallest interactions took the life out of him.

"Is... is this about the last time, when we lost Greenzilla?" tried Robert, hoping to change the mood. Hector forced a smile, though what appeared on his mouth looked like a pathetic grimace more than anything. He had his head turned back again, his chin pointed toward the ceiling, showing his jawline. A light beard was starting to form, a few days old.

Robert didn't force it. He studied Hector's state, admiring the messy curls and the pale, tonic chest and arms. His eyes were closed now. A ray of sunshine hit him right on his happy trail, falling on the sheet that was covering his pelvis and going all the way down his knees. Robert thought he looked like a statue. However, statues don't suffer from the cold, and Hector's goosebumps told another story.

"Did you eat?" Hector raised a shoulder. Robert eyed the opened bag of chips. He scratched his beard, his lips were a thin line.

"Have you slept?" He already knew the answer, but he asked anyway. The other man slowly opened his eyes. He did not move, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Robert couldn't help but follow the other man's Adam's apple going up and down when Hector swallowed.

"Alright." With a small moan, he put his leg down and got up. Robert stretched his arms and back, the red shirt he was wearing (one of his favourites) showed an inch of skin right above his belt. Hector's eyes darted there, and immediately went back to the ceiling when he realised Robert was watching him.

"I'll be right back." He told to the man slumped on the couch. He took a blanket from the armchair next to them and covered the younger man with it, before opening the door and leaving the tiniest space open, enough to not let the door close but attentive to not show anything to the outside.

Trusting Robert's words, Hector shrugged the blanket off of him and used the minutes alone to finally use the toilet, stopping in his bedroom to take some clothes first.

He did his best to not look in any mirror.

He went back to the sofa, already completely exhausted. He crossed his legs on the couch and covered himself with the blanket again. He wasn't as cold now, with his red sweatshirt and the sweatpants he used to go to the gym with Craig, but the blanket made him feel comforted.

A few minutes passed, and there was no sign of Robert. He was starting to feel sleepy, finally, and began to consider going back to bed. He had to get up again, though.

Hector sighed, finally tearing his gaze from the white paint of the ceiling. He shifted his position, starting to straighten his back when Robert entered again. His arms were full of food: he had three hamburgers, two water bottles, one can of coke, and a small tray of chips.

He closed the door with his back and got near the kitchen area. He tried to hide a shiver, failing. The black leather jacket surely wasn't that warm. Hector almost rolled his eyes, remembering the small fight they had a few weeks ago because he could tell Robert was cold, but he refused to go out wearing something warmer. "If you want to look good, you must be ready to suffer" he had said, gaining an unimpressed look from Hector.

Robert neatly left everything on the table and then put the drinks in the fridge, humming when he found it empty. He didn't seem surprised.

He put the third hamburger aside, making sure it was covered, and started walking around.

He took a plate and a napkin, moving with no worries, knowing exactly where everything he was searching for was. It was a nice sight.

He put a hamburger on the plate, with chips on the side, filled a glass of water and marched towards the other man, positioning the food and water on the small table near the couch.

Hector just looked at him.

Robert exchanged his gaze briefly before removing his jacket and placing it on the coat hanger near the door. He walked to the furthest windows in the living room, raising the curtains, sure that even with full access, no one would have seen or bothered them. He then went back to take his own hamburger. He left his food near Hector's and brought a few napkins and a big water bottle, leaving the other one and the can in the fridge. He removed his shoes using his feet and finally got comfortable, crossing his legs on the couch.

"What?" His tone was a bit defensive and Hector was sure that his cheeks were slightly redder. Not that he blamed him, he had silently followed him with his eyes the whole time, it probably wasn't a good sensation.

Robert huffed before taking a big bite of his hamburger. The chair was still there, as was the pillow. The ice was on the table in front of them, it had melted a bit since Robert went to bring them food.

He didn't seem to care, he positioned his leg on the chair again and put the ice on his knee. He left the other leg angled under him.

"You should eat, Joseph made them. As much I don't fucking like him, he knows how to do his meat." He crossed his brows after his words left his mouth. The corner of Hector's mouth twitched a bit.

"Anyway." He took the plate with a stretch of his back and gently deposited it on Hector's lap. The baby blue wool softly surrounded it, but Hector only succeeded to make a face at what the other man offered.

It was incredibly rude, Hector thought, not to eat when Robert had been so kind. He felt like a piece of shit, but he truly wasn't hungry. The thought of lifting his arms, opening his mouth, moving his jaw and swallow was also... too much, for now.

"You know," started Robert, after clearing his throat. He shifted on the couch to face him with his body the most he could. "They are worried about you. Mary wanted to come inside, I thought it was better to let her stay with her kids." Hector finally met his eyes. They didn't hold contact for long, though.

He hadn't stopped talking, but Hector wasn't listening anymore, preferring instead to let his gaze shift over the other man's face.

He was so handsome, literally a view for sore eyes. Was he truly aware of his beauty?

Hector began scanning his face with a curious thirst, admiring the wonderful man he had in front of him; because he had raised the curtains, the house was a little brighter, and his features were easier to appreciate in this light.

A small lock of hair fell on his forehead, and if Hector had been more daring he would have caressed it out of the way. His cheekbones seemed softer, he almost could feel the soft skin under his fingertips. He was mesmerized by the way his lips moved, asking himself how they would have tasted. Did his mouth still bring the hint of alcohol and tobacco? Was his tongue as experienced as his dreams told him? The beard surrounding his jaw had a few touches of grey, like his hair. Robert had always been attractive, that was for sure. He'd probably stolen hearts left and right when he was younger, and God, if he hadn't aged like fine wine now. Was he still breaking hearts now? Was his own still hurt or had Hector managed to help him at least gather all the pieces?

When Hector raised his eyes again to meet his, he found the same warmth Robert had started to welcome him more and more often. Hector knew he had stopped speaking and chose to simply not care. Robert's gaze, hot as a fireplace during the winter, never lost its intensity. Hector distractedly thought he had been a really cute child, he could see it: a serious stare, big eyes, big dreams. Would they've been friends even that young? Hector wasn't sure. Age difference to the side, Robert would've grown bored of him. He'd always been a 'bad boy' - that's what he gathered from what the other man told him, between random stories of how he got almost abducted by aliens and fond fake memories of a classmate who claimed to be a new prophet -, Hector? Not that much.

He lost the line of thought when he saw the small mole under his left eye. Hector had imagined kissing it an infinite number of times. The first time he noticed the little dot was during Mary's birthday. Robert was laughing so hard at something Mary said, presumably both drunk, that a small tear, or maybe a drop of his drink, ended on it. Hector had watched enchanted the mole slowly reveal itself. He remembered he had wanted to kiss it, maybe lightly inebriated too. He had met Robert's teary eyes from all the waves of laughter, and he simply smiled at him, heart full, content to finally see that man happy and in a light mood for once. It hadn't been easy, to receive such a privilege, that open friendliness, but Hector was proud and sure to have rightfully received it. He had treasured and blossomed their company, carefully and patiently. He never once regretted it. By now, he spotted almost immediately when his stories were a bunch of bullshit. He knew when he was uncomfortable, because of somebody's presence or of a weird situation.

Shit, he even spotted when he was bluffing at poker. He had learnt how to read him. And things with Mary had improved drastically, they had the weirdest and yet most interesting chats together.

In more ways than he could count, Hector was grateful that he could genuinely consider her and Robert friends. Fuck, maybe even his best friends. But... but.

Robert's warmness was something that seemed so distant. Hector had been looking at him like a man who admires a work of art: he could appreciate the fine line, the colours, the delicate hand of the artist, yet no one could feel the heat of a fireplace under their palms only by watching its image.

If Robert was here, why was his heart still bleeding? Something in his chest displeasedly seared.

He was so tired.

What is wrong with me?

He realized too late that Robert had asked him a question.

Hector tilted his head, confused. He hadn't heard it.

Robert had very long eyelashes. Alex also had them, another trait she had passed to Amanda. He remembered watching them sleep together and marvelling at how similar Amanda was to her mother.

He absently knew that Robert was aware of what he had been doing, the greedy study he had conducted, how could he not? Hector never once pretended to listen, his eyes surely gave him away. To be honest, Hector was surprised Robert still hadn't gotten used to it, it was not the first time he had observed him so thoroughly. He had become less and less ashamed of it.

"Did I..." Robert cleared his throat again, unsure. "Did I do the right thing? I can tell her to come inside. I can call Craig too if you want to. Maybe-"

Hector moved his head left and right, just one time. Having Robert there was too much, and he allowed it because he was, well, Robert. He couldn't tolerate anyone else at the moment.

"You don't have to stay here." Those were the first words Hector had said in a while, he almost grimaced at his own voice. The look on Robert's face immediately changed, between being hurt and offended. Hector regretted it, yet didn't feel too bad: it was something he had wanted to say since Robert had come to his house.

"What do you mean?" He sounded more perplexed than anything. Hector would be lying if he said that he hadn't caught the strange note in his voice.

"There is a barbecue out there. Why would you be stuck with me? The others seem much more fun." He remembered Joseph telling him something about it. He had turned down the invite, saying some bullshit about having to write or something.

Robert raised an eyebrow. A second of silence lingered between them.

"Do you want me to go?" he calmly asked. Hector didn't answer. He didn't lower his gaze either, weirdly enough. Not that weird actually, all things considered. A corner of Robert's mouth slightly went up.

"In that case..." Robert gently gestured to the plate that was still on Hector's lap.

The younger man gulped and eyed what it was being offered.

With a strength that made himself proud, Hector slowly removed the blanket from his torso and grabbed the burger, his skin aware of Robert's eyes on him. He looked at him and saw him doing the same, a few bites were already taken. Robert stretched out his arms to get closer to Hector's and their burgers touched, as a way to make a toast. A cosy feeling formed in Hector's chest, slowly spreading everywhere.

They ate in silence and when Hector had enough of his food, he drank his glass of water, moved everything on the small table in front of them and rested his head against the back of the sofa. No one of them talked even then, the silence lounged like a comfortable companion between them. Robert shifted to imitate his position once he was done too, one of his legs still on the chair. Hector covered them both with his blanket.

He didn't know how but half an hour later, he woke up on Robert's shoulder. The older man had his arms crossed, his brows in a frown and his chin was out, in a perplexed, maybe even disgusted, look. He was watching a straight couple kiss on the tv.

"What a bunch of bullshit" he whispered to himself, presumably to not wake up Hector. The curly-haired man shifted away, still sleepy but a little embarrassed to be so close, and immediately regretted it. Everything was colder, he had to suppress a shiver.

Robert immediately turned his head towards him.

"Where are you going?" He looked at him with those big, brown eyes and almost seemed like a kicked puppy. A puppy with very long legs.

Hector opened his mouth but closed it again.

He got up too quickly and soon realised it was a bad decision. Black dots swam in his vision and he tripped on the blanket, now wrapped around his legs. Time slowed down, he was going to hit the coffee table with his face but managed to balance on his back, falling on his knees.

His elbow hit the hard surface, and the glasses jumped at the impact, but the blanket cushioned him well enough.

God, why did this shit always happen around Robert? He already knew he was a fucking loser, there was no need to help him remember it every time.

He was as red as a tomato, so embarrassed that he had to hide his face in the cushions. His elbow hurt, too.

Robert chuckled in his face but went to pass a hand in the mess of Hector's hair.

"Are you alright?" he asked, with mirth in his eyes. Hector, face still on the couch, nodded. The hand moved unhurriedly from his hair to his neck and then to his back, in a slow caress. Hector felt goosebumps all over his skin and partly succeeded at hiding a shiver.

"Are you hurt?" Robert spread his fingers, limiting his movements yet still holding the contact. Hector turned his face towards him, searching for that specific shade of brown. He had his cheek still pressed on the cushion. Robert gulped at the other man's eyes, at the way the dark of the pupils was devouring the light blue.

Shit.

Hector wasn't going to tell him that his elbow pulsed a bit where he hit it, so he stayed quiet, still looking at him.

"Did I ever tell you about that time in Hong Kong when I risked losing my arm?" the older man started. Hector closed his eyes and sighed, Robert still had his hand on his back.

He got up for good. He regretted the lost contact but it was borderline a necessity to not make things even weirder. He was touch starved, that was something he had acknowledged long ago; problem was that even that small, innocent touch was starting to, um, affect him.

He had a very, very sensible back, too.

"It was just me and a dude who only spoke Chinese mandarin", "I'm..."

They both stopped. Robert had a curious expression on.

Hector spoke first.

"Thank you" he managed. His voice was too deep and raspy. Robert's glass still had a bit of water in it so he drank from it, trying to talk in a tone that could be heard by humans. He spoke again.

"You probably have still time to be with the others. I can be on my own." Robert licked his lips.

"If you don't want to hear my story just say it." He kept his arms crossed. He had both his legs on the chair, ankles crossed, and the ice was on the table, probably just water now.

Hector rolled his eyes but huffed a laugh. He was feeling better. He talked, he eat half a burger and even drank water! Hell, he even fell asleep.

He didn't even attempt to hide the affection in his voice.

"Thank you." Such an easy statement. Hector hoped his friend truly understood how wholeheartedly he meant it.

Robert removed the legs from the chair and firmly put them on the ground. He moved it out of the way and rested his elbow on his thighs. He was looking up at him, considering that Hector was on his feet now.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Hector attempted to subtly hug himself. It wasn't that late, probably his neighbours were still out there. He could hear a few laughs, under the dialogue on the tv.

He took a big sigh, Robert was intently watching him. If he asked him to spend the night - not in that way -, Hector was pretty sure he'd have said yes on the spot. Who, better than Robert, was going to understand him?

However, even the most innocent request instructed for... something, something he didn't have.

"Maybe another time," he whispered, so low that he wasn't sure Robert heard him - he did.

"Do you want me to go?" Again, Hector didn't answer, continuing to hug himself. Robert never tore his eyes off him.

Hector opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by a rumble of thunder. He didn't expect it and jumped a bit. He quickly walked to a window, watching from behind the curtains.

The rain was violently pouring, wetting everything and everybody. Joseph rushed to take the grill inside, Mary was giving away food left and right, helped by Damien. Hugo seemed like he was searching for something. When Ernest tried to sneak around him, Hugo grabbed him by the shoulder with his hand and started to drag him towards their house. He had a small tray, covered with tin foil in the other one.

Craig was assembling the twins, trying to cover River with the same tray Hugo had: the baby was now big enough to be attached to her father's calf, standing on her own feet.

Brian was removing the tables with Matt's aid.

Hector distractedly thought he should have been out there with them to help, but oh no, his fucking brain had to feel sad and make even breathing seem difficult.

He wasn't aware of Robert's presence behind him, so he jumped off his skin when he felt his breath on the nape of his neck.

The other man giggled.

"Guess I'll have to stay here then, oops." Hector could have sworn that he sensed the faintest trace of fingertips right above his hips.

"I wasn't kicking you out" he stated, not turning around, still eyeing the scene. He felt the hood of his sweatshirt being raised quickly until it covered his head and part of his eyes.

"Assassin's Creed" he heard whispering from behind him. He turned around, fixing the hoodie enough to let him see properly (as much as he could, without his glasses). He found Robert fucking wheezing at him and his own joke. Hector had to run a hand on his face to look annoyed when actually it was extremely difficult not to laugh with him.

Robert came near him again, lowering the hood and messing with his curls. A smile rested on his lips.

"You know", he let his hand fall on his shoulder, "it's the first time I've seen you without your glasses." Hector raised his eyebrows.

"You look good." The younger man unconsciously swallowed.

Robert was so relaxed. His stance was serene, his eyes calm. He was just saying it: he looked good without glasses. There was no malice in his words, no other goal. It was a genuine compliment, a friend who was simply recognizing a quality in his other friend.

Hector smiled at that. Sure, it was small, faintly involving only his lips, and yet to Hector, it seemed like a luxury. It was true, real. That was more than enough.

"Can I... hug you?" he quietly, so quietly, requested to the man in front of him. He wasn't brave enough to hold his gaze.

Quickly glancing at the hand resting on his shoulder, he decided to dare and indulge in something else. Maybe he could do it, to find the courage of such need.

Robert didn't respond, so Hector had his apologies travelling all the way from his core to the tip of his tongue, when two strong arms wrapped around him.

Robert's familiar, masculine scent encircled him. Hiding his face in the older man's neck, he let his perfume lullaby him.

He didn't want to start crying again, he really didn't, he hated himself for it, but it was so easy to let it go now. He had begun sobbing, pillowed by the warmness of Robert's body uselessly attempting to stop his tears. Robert's shirt was already a mess.

His arms were around Robert's shoulder, hugging him so tight that it probably was a little uncomfortable for the other man. Robert was carefully stroking his scalp with one hand, his other hand closed as a fist around the material of his hoodie.

"I got you. I got you... shh", he kept repeating. He kindly let their bodies slide down, pressing his back against the kitchen island near them to get more support.

Neither of them wanted to break the hug; however, Hector squeezed him harder, afraid Robert was using the motions to let him go.

Robert shivered, maybe tickled himself by Hector's irregular breathing in a different area of such vulnerable skin.

They stayed like that after Hector calmed down, too. Robert had begun to play with Hector's curls, his other hand lazily resting on the end of the younger man's hips. It was nice, to perceive Robert's company so physically. They were chest to chest, Hector could feel Robert breathing under his ribs. He was soft and hard at the same time, he had such... a reassuring presence. Being wrapped by his arms, even if so lightly, seemed more and more like a shield. It reminded him a little of when he was a child and wanted to be comforted by one of his mother's hugs, too afraid of the dark.

Yet, it was something completely different. Robert was gentler in his touch, almost afraid of hurting him. It didn't sit too right with him. If it were for him, he could have squeezed him alive and Hector would have died happily. Oh, Robert was scratching his scalp just the right way. What was he saying?

Hector hadn't removed his head from the crook of his neck, his beard tickled against his cheekbones. He distractedly nuzzled his face against it.

Embarrassingly self-aware, he delicately untangled himself with his whole being screaming at him not to. He cleaned his cheeks with his sleeves, feeling very juvenile.

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, batting his eyelashes to make the fog disappear.

"Don't be." Robert, a touch like a feather, removed a tear that was hanging on his jawline with his thumb. Hector noticed only then that one of his knees was between Robert's thighs.

"You needed that." Hector nodded, biting his lip.

"That was fucking mortifying" he commented, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands.

"Why?"

"I..." Hector took a big breath and moved next to Robert, his leg gently shifting away. His arms were touching. Neither of them cared, but Hector was more aware of it than Robert.

"I never let people see me like this." He turned his face to meet Robert's eyes, he was already watching him. He didn't answer, waiting.

"You already know my mental health has never been the best." Robert nodded.

"Christmas has always had this effect on me. It's around the time Alex died." Robert studied his face and did nothing more.

"I remember spending many Christmas at the hospital. Amanda's first holidays had always been at that fucking place."

He had this specific memory of his daughter weeping all day, hollering her lungs off. His wife, that same day, was having an operation that lasted for hours. He remembered being so stressed he paced around the whole hospital while trying to calm his daughter down. He had to call his mother and hand her the baby for a few hours: Alex's procedure had a complication.

He brought his knees close to his chest, his elbows on them; he played with his fingers.

"I suppose it should be easier for me to grieve. The doctors had told us months before what could have happened." He closed one of his hands in a fist and reopened it.

"It isn't. I miss her a lot, Robert. A fucking lot." Oh no, he wasn't going to start crying again. He prohibited himself to do it.

"I feel like Amanda is slipping from my fingers and I don't fucking know what to do." A bitter laugh escaped from his lips.

"She was right, by the way. We were co-dependent on each other. She's always been more mature than me." He was talking about his Manda, but the lines between her and Alex blurred.

"I often wonder how different things could have been if she'd been alive, what she'd think if she could see me now. I think... I think she'd be very proud of Amanda. But me? That's another story. She-"

"She would think you're a marvellous man who raised a wonderful woman" interrupted Robert, with a serious tone. Hector shook his head in disagreement, ready to put himself down.

"No. No, Hec, listen to me." Robert punched his arm to get his full attention. Not gonna lie, it hurt.

"You're a wonderful man, alright? You're an extremely good friend and an even better father. Everyone loves and admires you, but you're so humble you don't even fucking notice it. No, shut up. I don't care." Hector, who was going to protest, closed his mouth.

"I mean, I care. Urgh, this is so fucking embarrassing."

"See? I told you-"

"No, shut up. My therapist says I have to learn to talk about feelings." Robert scratched his forehead, uncomfortable, and turned his torso towards Hector. Two blue eyes met him with so much openness he had to force himself to cough before he could start talking, embarrassed. He had to physically stop from cringing at himself.

"Okay, here we go." Hector nodded at him, an amused smile surfacing on his lips. His arms were now crossed, and his long legs stretched on the floor, ankles on top of each other. Robert was one hundred percent sure that, if the mood had been different, Hector would have made a dumb joke about them both wearing socks.

"What I'm trying to say is that you're a nice man and you're loved and respected. I, err, I care about you. And, um, I value your friendship a lot." It was extremely satisfying to hear these words, especially if coming directly from Robert. A choice of his own free will, too. A Christmas miracle, if you will.

Yet it wasn't a miracle, just months and months of therapy showing improvements. The road to get there hadn't been easy and the work was still not done, but it was nice to see the difference between where Robert started and the point he was at now.

Hector wasn't sure he was fully convinced of it but pushed his uncertainties away to not ruin the moment, appreciating the genuine sentiment behind those words.

Robert, instead... well, he wanted to bury himself alive, his face had become as red as his shirt. Once he thought he had said everything he had wanted to, he nodded to himself and went back to Hector's side.

Hector punched him on his chest, much more lightly than the other man did.

"I'm proud of you." Robert, who was pretending to stretch his neck to avoid eye contact, turned to face Hector. The sheer honesty behind his gaze made his heart jump.

Something in him unlocked, like the correct key finally opening an old door; the missing piece of the puzzle eventually fitting in. He had craved those words for who knows how long. And there they were now, being stated as the most obvious thing in the world.

"Thank you" he answered, after his best friend's words fully sunk in. To tell the complete truth, he was proud of himself too.

They didn't talk after that particular exchange. The comfortable silence didn't linger too much, though, because Hector spoke again.

"Can I ask you something?" Something in his tone made Robert tense up. He just nodded.

"Why did you ignore me at the Christmas party?" Hector's chest felt so light he had to tap it, solely checking if everything was alright. That's what made him still ache: he was hurt. He had been hurt when Robert hadn't shown him an ounce of attention and he was hurt now. Things between them weren't as okay as they seemed to be, at their ages it was foolish to pretend otherwise. He was grateful for Robert's presence, he really was, but it wasn't that simple. Learning how to communicate had been one of Robert's biggest challenges, it still was, so he wasn't going to let this go: for Robert's sake and his own, too.

"I was upset" admitted the older man. He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, raising them to his elbows. Hector followed the way his fingers moved with his eyes.

Wait, no, hold on.

"Upset? Why?" He was genuinely baffled.

"You ignored me and Mary for two weeks. Every text I had sent you went to the void." The curly-haired man rubbed his sleeves together, chastised.

"I-"

"If Val hadn't called me, I would have never guessed what was wrong. I assumed, I don't know, I guess I thought you wanted to stop hanging around with us. Which, to be honest, it's understandable."

Congratulations Hector, that's what you've done. Are you happy now?

He had been rolling in self-pity so much he had forgotten the people he loved.

Okay, no, this is not what you've been doing. That was not 'self-pity'. Once he goes back to his house, it will come back. You need therapy again, Hector.

Hector shushed away those little voices in the back of his mind, that was a conversation for the future.

He got up on his knees and walked on them till he occupied Robert's vision.

"I apologise-no, it's your turn to shut up. Shush. I apologize." Robert, forced to silence, crossed his arms, sulking.

"It was not fair of me to keep you so secluded from what was happening to me." Hector bit the inside of his cheek, another question popping up in his mind. He pushed it away.

"I will do my best to... I don't know, talk with you."

Robert scratched his beard.

"I just, uh, wish you spoke to me about Amanda's situation sooner. You created a list of all the fucking Christmas decorations in the world and, well, now... is there a Christmas tree hidden somewhere? I don't see anything."

Hector huffed a laugh. He shoved his hands in the big pouch of his hoodie, and sat down on his heels, his expression quickly turning grave. Robert took that vision as the literal demonstration of his friend's humour flying down one more time.

"That's not what I...! Urgh. I'm such an asshole. I just meant-" What did he mean? He'd forgotten already.

He shoved his head in his hands.

What did his therapist always say? Big breaths and try to relax? Focus on something else? Easier said than done.

A chilly touch brushed his neck, so lightly that it could have been a mistake - a hand settled on his shoulder. The whole motion took him by surprise, startling him.

"Why are your hands so fucking cold all the time?"

Hector winked at him. It was one of the first gestures in the whole day where he finally recognized his old Hector.

"Cold hands, warm heart. Now breathe with me, you fucking loser." Robert wanted to insult him back, but the younger man had already started his breathing exercise, so he was coerced to follow.

"Look at me, alright? Focus on me and my breathing. Breath in..." He took a breath in.

Not like he could focus on something else with that particular tint of blue in front of him, anyway. Robert hadn't been able to find that particular shade yet. It wasn't azure: azure was too dark. Sapphire, maybe?

"Hold..." He held his breath. No, it wasn't sapphire either. He knew because he had googled it. Lapislazulli was--his mind suddenly filled in with the intrusive memory of Hector in nothing but his sheet, chest and arms exposed, his Adam's apple going down; a ray of sunshine, Robert remembered so very clearly, fell right on his happy trail.

He choked on his saliva and almost spit on the other man before him. Hector worriedly patted him on the back.

"Robert?"

What the fuck was that?

Robert raised his hands, still coughing, signalling he was okay.

"Are you-"

"Yes. I'm alright, thank you." He suppressed another cough. His therapist had told him that intrusive thoughts were normal and nothing to be ashamed of. He tried to keep her words in mind, forcing himself to stop blushing. He didn't succeed, but at least he could blame the sudden cough.

"Where were we?"

Hector hysterically giggled.

"You old cow, you can't even fucking breath properly."

"Fuck you! You know I'm sensible about my age." That only made Hector laugh louder.

Rober missed that sound. He had to act like he was glancing around to hide a smile.

"Can I have a glass of water or does a man have to die of thirst here?" Hector got up, the hint of a laugh still on his chapped lips. It didn't escape on Robert how much more energetic he was now compared to when he had met him this morning.

"I think that man will probably find a way to choke himself on nothing before dying of thirst." Robert got up too and cracked his back.

"Fuck, I'm getting old."

"You said it, not me." He found Hector smiling cordially, extending him a glass of water. The kitchen island separated them.

Robert accepted the water, grateful. Hector rested his hip against the kitchen counter and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was more and more in need to get his glasses.

"I don't know how to ask you this, so I'm just gonna get it out of my system." Robert raised his head from the glass he had put down on the isle, interested.

"Why didn't you come to talk with me in person instead of just assuming the worst?"

One could say that Robert had to think of his answer, which might have explained why he took so long. However, that wouldn't be the truth. Robert was simply searching for courage.

It was okay for Hector, though. The wait. He was a patient guy.

"I thought that you... rejected me, my friendship." He was greeted with silence.

"I don't understand." Robert exhaled from his nose, ill at ease.

"Hec, I don't deal well with rejection."

"That's not the part that I don't understand" answered coldly Hector, honestly annoyed.

"I believed that by now it was clear I enjoyed our... friendship."

"Recovery is not linear, Hector. I put a wall between us like the fucking idiot I was because I was afraid you were, I don't know, bored. Of me. Mary. Of me."

Hector sighed. Recovery is not linear.

It truly fucking wasn't, huh?

Hector frustratedly ruffled his hair, unsure. He raised his eyes on Robert who was delicately running a finger along the rim of the glass, his elbows on the kitchen island. He had that slight pout he'd usually put on when he was thinking something that made him discontent.

Hector got close enough to touch his forearm.

"I will never get bored of you, okay? Never." He realized that the statement seemed a bit too personal, so he immediately added something else, removing his hand.

"Or of Mary, or of Craig, or any other person I care about, alright? I promise." Robert wasn't the type of person one could read just by looking at his eyes. He did show emotion, when he felt like it, but he was mostly someone who kept his secrets so buried inside him that could not allow anything else to come up.

Yet, he was showing complete and undivided attention. He was listening, his gaze fixed on Hector. His eyes, the same unreadable mystery, were speaking. To Hector, for Hector. It wasn't much from Robert's choice, maybe. Perhaps, it was just Hector having looked at him so much that he had learnt some of his enigmas.

Even just the way he was waiting for him to say something, the genuine interest in his words and what he had to say, the utter patience and care he had shown him for the whole day and on many other different occasions... those were all things that not everybody were gifted to experience, with Robert.

The way his stare was attentive, his eyes well open and ready for anything, his stance seemingly relaxed but with his hands opening and closing on the island's surface. Those were the tells of someone who had experienced rejection and sufferance so many times that was now constantly waiting for it.

It made Hector's blood boil, though, because he had worked so hard to not make Robert doubt him. Yes, alright, he had a crush on that guy. But before everything else, always before anything else, they were friends. And true friends never fucking get bored of each other - at the very least, if anything, Hector surely wouldn't be. How could he if every fucking time they go out, they have a new adventure?

"If I isolated so much it's because I didn't want to show how much a pathetic loser I am."

"But you aren't." Robert's answer had been so immediate that it made him smile.

"I am. And I'm not. Right now, I feel like a big ass failure, Robert." He had assumed Robert's position, his elbows leaning on the kitchen island, and he used the position to hide his face in his crossed forearms. Robert flicked him on the head.

"You really, really aren't." Hector raised his head enough to look at his older friend, putting his chin on his closed fist.

"I didn't know that not answering your texts would have freaked you out." Robert exhaled from the nostrils.

"You usually answer extremely fast. And yes, I did notice that you changed the topic." Hector just went to take a chair near his table and sit, his back was starting to hurt. Robert followed the same procedure, sitting on his left. Hector was almost waiting for a comment, but Robert just resumed from where he had left.

"I was starting to get worried until I saw you two days ago coming home in the middle of the night." Hector recalled the half-thought of booking a hotel close to the airport and then quickly rejecting the idea: he knew his blue moon was coming and it had been best to come back home.

"I..." It wasn't that he stopped abruptly, more Rober's evident hesitance that surprised him. Hector raised an eyebrow, leaning towards Robert, interested.

"You...?"

"I saw a cops' car following you, so I thought you'd sold your soul to those dogs." Alright, sure. It was 5 am in the morning, in fucking December, his car was the only one around.

"I respect your choices, but cops, Hec? Cops?"

"What can I say? My mouth is so out of this world that it's illegal. They wanted to arrest me."

"Why are you free, then?"

"What do you think?" A malicious smile popped up on Hector's face, exaggerating a flirty wink. Robert chuckled, running a hand through his thick hair. It always seemed so soft.

"What the fuck were you doing up at that hour?" suddenly asked Hector, once his brain went through with that information.

"What the fuck were you doing up at that hour?" repeated Robert, parroting him in a very high-pitched voice (well, for what he was able to). It wasn't a nice sound.

"I was worried, dumbass. I told you already."

"You have been awake the whole night?" Shit, Hector was starting to feel bad. It was just surprising to him that Robert, someone who once answered one of his texts a whole week later, would be so keen and attentive to them in this case.

A slight blush coloured Robert's cheeks.

"If it makes you feel better, I went to sleep right after that."

"You were reassured of my well-being?" Hector grinned, as if to take lightheartedly fun of Robert, but the truth was that he was touched.

"No, I was angry."

Robert turned his head to the side, hiding from holding any eye contact, concealing the gesture by stroking the back of his head.

"You were angry?" repeated Hector, furrowing his brows. Had he skipped a few steps in their conversation? What was going on?

"Robert?" called the younger man, starting to lose his patience.

"I, um... if I tell you, you have to promise not to laugh."

Oh, this is gonna be juicy.

"I'll do my best" said innocently the curly-haired man.

"Hector."

"Alright, alright. Scout's honour that I won't laugh, now tell me." He had never been a scout and Robert knew. He gained a very arched eyebrow and a disappointed head shake, but Robert took a big breath anyways.

"I... I... I-fuck, no, I can't do it." He hit the table with his fist, without any real force, but making the surface shake nevertheless. He got up and started pacing around.

"C'mon, dude! I promise, I promise I will not laugh." Robert suddenly halted and looked at him.

"If you do laugh, I will strangle you."

Please do.

"I won't. Now, for fuck's sake, speak." Robert put his hands in the pocket of the black jeans he was wearing and raised his shoulders to his chin.

"I thought..." he didn't finish his sentence. Hector gave an encouraging nod, even if not with the kindest intentions.

"I thought you had gone out with other people, and you'd just come back home." Robert's words were met by absolute silence. Now that he had said it, he slowly relaxed and let his shoulders down to their usual height.

Slowly, very slowly, raised his eyes to meet Hector's.

Hector's jaw flinched harder.

"Well. You... are not laughing." Hector leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He couldn't see his own expression, but Robert felt a chill because of the ice stabbing him through Hector's eyes.

"I'm fucking offended."

"Offended?" repeated Robert, confused.

"Offended."

"Why are you offended?"

"Do you think so little of me?" Hector hadn't meant to sound so hurt, but he was. He started to gesticulate.

"Do you think I could be such a dick to just disappear and hang out with new friends? Puff, just like that." He snapped his fingers to give more emphasis. "And new friends? Where? Who? I'm a fucking loser. It took me almost two years to make you my friend" he said, pointing at him with his extended arm.

"That's not really on you, though. It's more on me" tried Robert, getting closer to the table.

"Whatever. I'm still offended." Robert got close enough to press one hip against the sink, forcing Hector to change his position to face him.

"What was I supposed to do? You weren't answering, I have slept like shit the whole time. You know how I get when I don't sleep well." Oh, he knew very well. "And then you come to this fucking party where you seem like you'd rather sell your soul than come close to m-the people. Thank God Mary was there." She'd tried to move him away from the walls a few times that night, but gave up after a while. At one point she got worried that Hector was going to either throw up on her or pass out because of his scary paleness. It hadn't been easy to convince her not to worry and have fun, yet managed anyways.

"It's not until you basically fly away from the place at a super speed that I start to put 2 and 2 together." Hector had lost his cold stillness while Robert was talking, but it was maybe worse now.

The embarrassment of feeling so out of place was still burning, everything just happened last night after all. Robert's words kind of functioned as a wake-up call: this was serious, wasn't it? His thoughts were there, they weren't going away just because of a nice chat.

"You didn't even take your gifts" mumbled Robert, more to himself than Hector. That actually had been a calculated choice, he could have blamed the headache for it. He wasn't feeling worthy of any gifts, no need to bring them back with him.

Hector just raised one shoulder.

"I'll be like this for a while, Robert" confessed Hector, hunched over himself on the chair, his tone grave. Robert lowered himself till he could reach Hector's level. He was playing with his own hands again.

"Do you still have your therapist's number?" Robert asked, gently placing a hand on his knee. Hector nodded, slowly releasing a long sigh.

"Yes, but he's in my old city. I should just find a new one."

Robert chuckled, squeezing his knee before letting it go and straightening up.

"I could help you with that."

"Will you?" Hector glanced up, defeated. It was as if depression followed him everywhere, only waiting for the right moment for him again. He'd struggled with it in his adolescence, stripped him of his joys in part of his adulthood, and there he was now. 'High-functioning depression' had called it his therapist, then. He got better, worked his ass off for it, and yet...

It was incredibly discouraging to realize he was falling again, to watch his improvements turn into dust.

Was he going to die with this sticky glaze of dismay, or by then he'd become finally happy?

It was alright, though. One of Hector's virtues was resilience, he wouldn't have stopped fighting.

Recovery isn't linear.

Robert smiled and pretended to hold a microphone.

"Besties who go to therapy together..." he began, shoving the non-existent microphone in Hector's face. Since when he had learned what Amanda called them, instead of 'best friends' (mind you, they both asked to repeat three times what the term meant), he had absolutely loved it and hadn't stopped using it for a while. Hector wasn't that surprised that it popped back up now.

"...stay together?" Robert gave a set nod at that. Hector couldn't hide an affectionate smile. Maybe his journey could've been easier this time, perhaps there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Hector's never been that bright, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise that this had been one of the first times when he truly comprehended how much Robert unequivocally, genuinely treasured him and his well-being.

It was still raining, so Robert stayed awhile. They talked for hours, while also searching for Hector's best option. Both finally updated the other about what happened in the past two weeks. Robert had actually been secretly happy he hadn't picked up any gift because his was still a work in progress - "Damian's fault, not mine." and "No, I won't tell you shit" -.

It got pretty late in the afternoon when Robert eventually decided it was time to leave.

"Dude, before I go..." Hector was going to close the door right in his face, a bit sad, when he stopped his arm just in time.

"Yes?"

"If there is something I can do, don't think twice about asking, alright?" Hector nodded slowly but didn't close his door yet. Robert didn't move.

"You..." It wasn't an easy demand. In all honesty, he wasn't sure he was brave enough to ask for it. Then again, the prospect of being left alone with his thoughts was scarier. When could he get a better chance, anyways?

Robert was still there, waiting.

"You haven't slept well these weeks, right?"

"Right."

Hector had been pretty surprised when Robert shyly admitted it. His sleep schedule hadn't been as bad as Hector's, yet feeling ghosted by your best friend - "Oh, so I am your best friend", "No.", "Too late, I've heard you." - and anxiety about his sudden disappearance were not the best companions to have in the night. Hector was flattered and once again surprised by how much importance his presence held in Robert's life. He had almost wanted to kindly scold him for allowing a loser like him to affect his life, but he didn't have it in him, preferring to apologise for any discomfort he had caused. The guilty, displeasing feeling in his chest was still there. He should have found a way to show how sorry he truly was once he could find the will to leave his house again.

"Do you, maybe - obviously, only if you want to- sleep here tonight? I don't mean in that sense, duh. Hah." Robert's pensive expression blocked him, one of his eyebrows went up and back down. Hector wished to be swallowed whole by the floor.

"But we could... you know, it's not important. Pretend I said nothing." He was going to close the door again when Robert's arm stopped him.

"I was just letting you finish, Hector."

"Oh."

"I'll be here. Do you-", he took a step up, to not be heard, "do you want to invite someone else too?"

"Do you?" The flash of pure terror that crossed Hector's face had been enough. Too soon.

After some small agreements, Robert went back to his house to take his pyjamas and a change, bringing some food and snacks. Hector, on his part, changed his sheets, cleaned his bedroom the most he could and took a quick shower, only allowing his mind to think about what kind of food they could order later.

They just had the time to eat something and watch Shrek 2 before Hector fell asleep. Again, on Robert's shoulder. He had kindly woken him up, like a parent to his child, following him to his bedroom.

"Stay" had asked Hector, once his head hit the comfy pillow, more a murmur than anything in his sleepy state, after Robert had started to turn around to go back on the couch. He rubbed his cheek against the soft cotton.

"If you want to" he then quickly added, a bit more awake. He forced the fog of sleep out of his eyes. It was so dark around them that Hector could only make out Robert's silhouette.

"Your back won't survive the night if you sleep there." It wasn't a lie.

"Here." He took one of the decorative pillows he had moved aside and placed it in the middle of the mattress.

"This could be our divider" he offered. Hector was aware of his light tendency of moving around, while Robert had told many times he did not like being touched while he was sleeping.

That seemed to do the trick because Robert, huffing, got closer to the bed, muttering something under his breath that Hector didn't grasp. Hector heard the ruffle of the bed sheets moving and sensed a familiar weight gently sink beside him. Robert shifted a bit, searching for a good position.

Hector was so tired that he didn't even have it in him to worry about whatever anymore. If anything, feeling the mattress sag under another body was way more soothing than Hector would have thought. It shouldn't have been that surprising.

"Hector?" called some seconds later a weary, deep voice, so low that Hector doubted for a second if he had actually said something or if it had been his imagination.

"Yes?"

"If your wife isn't proud of you, she can come to me in my dreams and fight me."

"Dude..." Hector fucking chortled at that, too surprised and exhausted to really react. "You can't just say that."

"Why not? I could easily argue with a ghost." Hector didn't stop laughing. The motion, though, made Robert shift a bit farther.

"And if you're losing, will your wife come to help you?"

"Nah. I don't know. Maybe if she's bored."

Silence appeared to finally rule, but another voice hesitantly took its place.

"Robert?"

"Mh."

"Thank you for hypothetically defending my honour."

"You're welcome."

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