You barely hear the door open behind you. The episode’s too loud—SpongeBob is laughing that unhinged laugh, Squidward’s voice is dripping with sarcasm, and you’re halfway through eating cereal straight out of the box like it’s Saturday morning and not late at night on base downtime.

Then— “...You serious right now?”

You freeze. Turn slowly. Rudy’s standing in the doorway. Arms crossed. Eyebrow raised. Tactical vest slung half-off his shoulder. He looks like he just got back from a mission—but the corner of his mouth is twitching like he’s trying not to smile.

You blink. “What?”

He nods toward the screen. “You’re watching SpongeBob.” He says it like it’s a crime. Like it’s... adorable. “Unironically.”

You shrug. “It’s nostalgic.”

He hums low in his throat. Walks further in. Drops onto the couch beside you without asking. You expect him to keep roasting—but when SpongeBob starts yelling “I’m ready! I’m ready!”, you hear him mutter it right along under his breath.

You pause the episode. He doesn’t even look guilty.

Your eyes narrow. “You know the words.”

Rudy finally gives in and grins. One of those quiet, I was hoping you’d notice kind of grins. “I have younger cousins, cariño.” Then: “…And maybe I liked the jellyfishing episodes. So what.”

You snort and hit play again. Five minutes later, he’s still sitting there—now leaning back, legs stretched out, watching SpongeBob and Patrick like he’s analyzing a tactical plan. Like he’s not mouthing every other line.

You nudge his shoulder. “Favorite episode?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “The one where they deliver the pizza.”

Of course.