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“Alright, Max,” David called, from the kitchen, over the quiet sound of popcorn crashing against a bowl, “you remember the rules for movie night, right?”
“Of course I do,” came a tired response from the living room. Max had already made himself comfortable on the couch, a few cutesy throw pillows stacked up behind him. David had offered to convert the couch into a makeshift fort, but Max had blown him off, saying that was ‘just for kids’. Despite this, the boy had carefully wrapped him and his bear up in a star-patterned blanket, the only things visible being their small faces and the TV remote. “No violence, no swearing,” Max repeated, rolling his eyes, “but I already told you that eliminates every non-shitty film.”
“Come on, Max,” the redhead answered, as he walked in from the kitchen, sitting down next to the other. He placed the bowl of caramel popcorn on the coffee table, and before he could even notice, a quick hand jumped out from the boy’s blanket pile to snatch a handful of the snack. “I’m sure there are plenty of nice movies to choose from! Or do you want me to pick?”
“We’re not watching another fucking Disney movie,” Max grunted back, eyebrows furrowing together. “I can only listen to singing animals for so long.”
“I thought you liked Disney movies?”
“They’re okay, I guess, but you always put on Snow White.”
“What? It’s a nice movie!”
“Whatever,” Max said, finally conceding. He wasn’t about to have the same argument that they had every week on movie night — but he knew he was right. He could practically recite Snow White off of the top of his head due to how many times he had seen it. “Let’s watch this,” he finally decided. It was Spirited Away.
“Oh, I’ve heard about this one! Apparently it’s good,” David commented, smiling down at his son. Son. That word still felt weird to say, even internally. “Gwen recommended it to me a while ago, but I never got around to watching it.”
“Gwen likes this kind of thing?” Max glanced up at the other, raising an eyebrow, but he only received a polite shrug in return. He shook his head, pressing play on the movie. As it loaded, he quickly retreated back into his den, burrowing his chin into the rough fur on Mr. Honeynut’s head. He kept the remote tightly in his grip for now, though David either didn’t notice or care. He didn’t mind when Max made idle comments during the movie, or when he asked for more popcorn, and he was quick to comfort him when he started crying near the end of the film (although David was admittedly bawling his eyes out as well).
Max felt safe, and comfortable. For once, it didn’t feel strange. It didn’t instil a sense of paranoia, that something would go wrong — it felt right.
Max was happy, and all was well.