Simmons was, suffice to say, a little disappointed about the amount of calls they got the week after that "date". Or, he was disappointed at the lack of calls. He checked his phone, before tossing it on the counter, refusing to look at it again.

Simmons searched around the kitchen for food, and mentally patted himself on the back. The apartment was much easier on the eyes since he had started looking after it. And he expected junk food containers lying amongst empty soda cans in a way that Simmons could only describe as its own ecosystem. He just didn't think he'd see so much other types of food with it.

Simmons never really heard Grif talk about how much he liked to cook. He honestly seemed happy scoring food off of parties or taking the easiest way out when snacking. But his cabinets were filled with expensive jellies and coffee, and the pancakes they had were homemade. He had asked about it once, and only got a response like "You have to cook to eat.". But he didn't complain when he kept waking up to the smell of a fried eggs or blueberry pancakes (breakfast food seemed to be his favorite, and it was growing on Simmons).

Actually, there was more than just Grif's cooking that was growing on him. He had woken up in the mid-afternoon today, and done nothing productive. Grif was gone for most of the day, no doubt slacking through his last day of work for the week. Simmons was glad for once that he worked longer days; the extra day off was a nice perk.

But it was late at night, and Simmons was ready for Grif to shamble into the apartment and pass out. Instead, he moved into the living room with his head held high. Simmons raised an eyebrow at him "What's with that look?"

"I'll tell you what this look is." And he pulled a DVD out of his pocket- wait. Was that?

"No, no. Grif, we talked about this." They had talked about it. Grif constantly wanted to watch that god-forsaken movie, and now Simmons wasn't sure if he could stop him this time. "It's not even going to be good. Do you really want to waste your time with this?"

"I don't care." He didn't. There was unmovable determination as he turned the movie on.

"Whatever. Sure. We'll watch this, and you'll see how terrible it is." This was something that Simmons and Grif argued about, which was their taste in movies. Usually, Simmons did think that Grif had awful taste in what he liked to watch, but this movie was difference.

"Listen, what is with you and horror movies?"

"They never live up to the hype!" Simmons snapped back. Yeah, 'hype'.

"I think you're just scared." Grif grinned as he skipped past the commercials. The movie had been out for a year now, so there wasn't anything they hadn't seen before.

"I'm not scared of a poorly made movie." He was. They sat through the first few minutes of the film. For a cheap film, it had alot of build-up. Simmons steeled himself, and felt a shade of pride as he realized he might be able to fake his way through the film as long as he looked away at the right times.

That was, until the screen shifted fast and the music blared. "That was NOT necessary!" Simmons shouted. Grif laughed at Simmons, who had jumped up to sit on the top of the couch.

"You feel safe up there?"

"Yes, shut up." The movie continued on as if the jumpscare had never happened, and the build-up only made it worse. Simmons steel-will had turned to crumpled-up aluminum foil, and he slid off the top of the couch and as far into the back cushion as he could. There was another loud piano chord, and Simmons didn't look to see what it was this time. He did, however, see Grif jolt and then look at Simmons. He giggled. "You just jumped."

Grif brushed him off. "Pfft, yeah. Whatever." He folded his arms in front of his chest, a nervous look on his face. "I just wasn't expecting it." Simmons giggled again. "It's not even that scary."

"See? It's not as great as you thought it was gonna be." Simmons had his knees tucked in close to himself. "Cheap scares and bad special effects."

Towards the end of the movie, Grif and Simmons found themselves as close as possible in the middle of the couch, with every pillow and blanket they could find shielding themselves. As the credits finally rolled, Grif chuckled. "That was lame."

"You screamed twice."

"So did you!" He replied quickly. Simmons sighed, and reached for his phone in his pocket. Except, it wasn't in his pocket. Simmons breathed in sharply through his nose. "My phone is in the kitchen."

"So go get it."

Simmons's spine tingled as his paranoia manifested into a terrible demon that existed only in the dark kitchen. "I can't."

"What? Just go get your- Wait." Grif got a wide grin on his face. "You're scared."

"This is why I don't like horror movies!" Simmons whined, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "There's gonna be a monster or a murderer and it's gonna kill me."

"Nothing is going to kill you, dude."

Simmons pouted. "Then go get my phone."

Grif hesitated. "W-why should I have to get it?"

"See? You're scared too!"

Grif rubbed the back of neck, before letting his arm rest behind Simmons. "Alright, it got to me. Look's like your phone belongs to that demon now."

Simmons leaned into Grif, letting the TV loop the movie's menu screen over and over. "Yep." After a few seconds, the looping was already irritating, so he switched it off. "Hey, do you think it's blogging on some sort of demonic internet right now?"

Grif shifted backwards, letting himself rest on the mounds of pillows around them. "It's probably talking about how wimpy we are."

Simmons giggled again, and relaxed a bit more. "It's taking a picture of us that's like, 'these losers won't leave the couch after one scary movie'." He smiled to himself, and the silence around him started to fog up his brain.

Grif looked down from his own phone, to see Simmons asleep on him. He poked Simmons face, trying to wake him up. "Hey, go to bed."

"Nnnnno." Simmons said drowsily.

Grif contemplated pushing him off, or tossing him on the bed in the other room. But since both of those things required Grif to do something, he opted for throwing a blanket over the both of them. He shifted again, and switched off the only lamp that was still on in the room. In the darkness, they couldn't deny that they felt just a bit safer. Just a bit better.