When Hordak ordered the engineers to design his sleeping nook, he insisted on luxury. The adjustable lighting and soundproofed door and extra blankets seemed palatial compared to his narrow bunk on Horde Prime’s ship. Eventually he learned that his room was spartan by Etherian princess standards, but still he basked in the glory of his status as the only Fright Zone inhabitant with special quarters for sleeping, all alone.
Lately, however, he hasn’t been sleeping much, alone or otherwise.
“Wake up,” Hordak mutters to Emily, who is squished up against his leg, her bulk flattening a corner of the mattress. He taps his foot against her external casing.
The robot’s violet input panel lights up and she beeps in protest. Imp lifts his head at the commotion and hisses from his nest in Entrapta’s hair.
“Quiet,” Hordak growls to his winged clone-failure. He glares back at the robot, who is still whistling complaints. “That’s enough from both of you. Now get out.”
Emily finally stands, her joints squealing. Imp flies over and perches on the robot, squawking the whole time. They leave as instructed, but Emily buzzes impudently and Imp blows a raspberry as the triple panel door slams shut.
“Brats,” Hordak curses, then glances back at Entrapta, who snores softly beside him. Her hair twitches. “It’s fortunate that you’re a heavy sleeper,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around her.
Hordak nuzzles her neck and breathes in her scent of standard-issue Horde soap and traces of robot oil. Her back is warm against his bare chest; only her sleeveless shirt separates their skin.
Entratpa’s hair wraps around Hordak’s shoulders, and he knows that she has awakened. She flips around and grins at him. “Good morning, partner!” she greets him brightly, then looks around the room. “Where did everybody go? Did Emily say anything?”
“Nothing worth repeating.” Hordak doesn’t understand most of Emily’s noises, but he’s certain that she hurled numerous robot curses in his direction on her way out the door.
Entrapta sits up and scratches her head with the tip of a ponytail. “What about the Imp? Did he give any indication of who he’s spying on today?” She yawns, then stands and stretches, her movement activating the door opener.
“I asked them both to leave,” Hordak admits. His eyes linger on the waistband of her purple pajama shorts. “Come back to bed.”
“Why?” Entrapta looks back at Hordak, one violet brow quirked up. She gazes at his body, then narrows her eyes as she notices his lower half carefully covered by the blanket. A grin spreads across her face. “Oh! I understand now! You want to have sex!” she shouts, loud enough for the entire Fright Zone to hear.
He flinches. “Please speak more softly.”
“Sorry,” she says, not sounding very sorry, as she bounds back to the bed. The door snaps shut again and she reaches out to rub his sensitive ears. “Too loud again?”
“I simply want our activities to remain private.”
Entrapta rolls her eyes up to the low ceiling. Her hair tickles Hordak’s chin. “Everyone already knows we have sex,” she says, clearly surprised that he is unaware of this fact.
Hordak jolts upright and pushes her hair away from his face. “What? Who is ‘everyone’?”
“The guards. The captains. The cooks. Everyone. Imp didn’t play any of the recordings back for you?”
Hordak clenches his fist so hard that his blue knuckles turn grey. “He must have considered the information unimportant.”
“I always hear people talking about us whenever I pass vent openings. It’s kind of repetitive, to be honest, especially when I’m just looking for a spare part or something.”
Hordak stands and turns away. He trembles and glares at the shut door. The gossipers will pay for flapping their tongues.
Entrapta taps him on the shoulder with her hair, and he turns back toward her. She meets his eyes at first, but looks down as she begins speaking. “I hear them wondering about you choosing a weird abandoned princess, when you could have anyone you want in the Fright Zone --” her hair twists itself into knots as she stares at the floor. She fusses with the hem of her shirt. “I’ve wondered the same thing. You’re so strong, and everyone follows you, and I’m not, you know -- I understand if you’re embarrassed --”
“I don’t care what my subordinates think, only that they do my bidding unquestioningly.” Those calling Entrapta ‘weird’ and ‘abandoned’, however, will soon find themselves on the wrong side of a prison cell door. “They’re fools. You don’t embarrass me,” he says, and to prove it to her, he takes her chin in his hand and presses his lips to hers. Without breaking away, he wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her from the ground.
“Then why are you mad?” Entrapta asks around his tongue as she wraps her legs around his torso.
Hordak flops her back onto the bed. He pulls at her undershirt, and she helps him wrestle it off her body. “I’m not mad. I’m simply -- um --” he struggles with words as Entrapta grazes her teeth along his collarbone. “The princesses seek to destroy our progress, and as we know from Shadow Weaver’s betrayal, even our own forces cannot be trusted completely.”
Entrapta pulls Hordak’s undergarment from his hips, then shimmies out of her own pajama shorts. “That’s true,” she says, running her hands on his thighs, driving him to distraction.
He spreads her legs and looms over her on all fours. “I don’t want my enemies to exploit my weakness.”
“Oh! Now I get --” she breaks off as he slides into her. She bites her lip and shifts her hips and Hordak has to close his eyes so he doesn’t lose it. “You’re wrong though.”
Using her hair, she flips them both over, still joined, and wraps a few tendrils around his wrists, pinning him to the bed. “The way I see it, two is stronger than one.” She does something inside of her that squeezes Hordak’s cock, and he forces himself to breathe slowly through his nasal slit. “We’re exponentially more effective together.”
“Your rationale is sound,” Hordak admits through clenched teeth. He often comes around to Entrapta’s point of view when she argues from this position. His hips jut upward, and she releases his wrists. “But I don’t want to risk your safety.”
Entrapta is breathing hard now, and she responds with only a grunt. She plants one hand on Hordak’s chest for balance and uses the other to touch herself.
Hordak reaches up and grasps her waist and grinds her down against him.
“Keep doing that,” she commands.
“With pleasure,” he rasps, and it’s all he can do to keep going, but soon she is coming hard above him, and he’s right behind, and then he doesn’t have to think about much for a while.
She flops onto his chest, her human sweat and breath and fluids seeping out across his skin. With another he would be repulsed, but with her it’s almost enough to make him want her all over again. Almost. First he needs to rest.
Opportunity for rest with Entrapta is rare, however. Soon she bounces out of bed and pulls her clothes off the peg on the wall. As she sticks a leg into her coverall, she looks back at him and beams. “Wow, Hordak! Let’s start every morning like that. I’ve already solved four potential portal problems just while I was lying there! But first I need a giant plate of tiny waffles. Then I’m going to rebuild my plasma arc welder and it’s going to be a great day! Are you coming?”
Hordak chuckles and tries to sit up, but something pops out of place, and he winces. “I need to adjust the port on my back. I think I threw it out of alignment.”
“Let me do that,” she says, bounding back to him fully dressed. She peers at the offending port and presses around the edges with her now-gloved fingers.
“I’m glad you aren’t embarrassed by me,” she says softly as she clicks the port into place.
“I’m glad you see strength in our union,” he responds, and he presses a kiss to her forehead.
She pats him with her hair again, and even in the low green-tinted light he can see the blush of pink across her cheeks. “The kids need their own room,” she says.
“Agreed,” he says as his lip curls upward. “Starting tonight.”