#but they do give Ford and Lute a lecture about rethinking things

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Flute

I’ve mentioned before that when Flute (aka Ford x Lute) happens in the Superhero/villain AU, it’s kept a secret.  And everyone finds out after Stan walks in on Lute in Ford’s kitchen.  Since the last Superhero/villain AU thing I posted led right to that particular scene, I decided to go ahead and write it.  So here.  Have some gay shit.

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              Ford pulled on his pants, still silently fuming about Stan’s interruption earlier.

              I thought one of the benefits of living alone was that your twin brother would not walk in on you.  But no, Stan just had to get confused about where he lives.  Ford sighed.  Let it go.  Things managed to progress, even with Stan showing up just as it was getting heavy. He heard the front door open.  Lute usually doesn’t leave so soon.  He usually grabs something to eat from the kitchen and chats.  I suppose the interruption upset him-  Ford’s train of thought was cut off by a voice that most definitely was not Lute’s. The blood drained from Ford’s face. He couldn’t make out any individual words, but he would recognize that voice anywhere.  Oh, no.

              Ford grabbed the nearest shirt, threw it on, and sprinted out of his bedroom. As he got closer to the kitchen, the voice became clearer.

              “So, uh, what are you doing, exactly?”

              “Scramblin’ an egg,” Lute’s voice replied.

              “…You went to Ford’s place just to make breakfast?  Dude, it’s like four in the afternoon.”

              “Eggs can be enjoyed any time of day.”  Ford stopped in the kitchen entryway, panting.  Lute looked over, as did the owner of the voice he’d heard, Stan. Stan raised an eyebrow at Ford.

              “Apparently Lute broke into your house to make scrambled eggs.”

              “He didn’t break in,” Ford said, instinctively defending Lute.  Lute’s eyes widened.  Ford stifled a groan.

              That would have been the perfect excuse for why Lute’s here!  And I had to ruin it.

              “That is to say-” Ford started.  Stan looked back and forth between Lute and him, his brow furrowed. “I mean-”  Ford’s mind churned, trying to come up with some sort of explanation that would satisfy his brother.  Stan’s face went slack in realization.  “I-”

              “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding!” Stan burst out, startling Lute into dropping his spatula.  Stan clapped a hand to his forehead.  “You two are fucking!”

              “Stanley!” Lute said, aghast.  Ford could feel his face getting redder by the second.  “Don’t be crass!”

              “Yes, and don’t accuse us of that,” Ford said.  “We’re not-”

              “Don’t lie,” Stan snapped.  His hair burst into flames.  Ford took a startled step back.  “I know how this song and dance works.  Or did you forget how Angie and I got together?  I mean, for god’s sake, you guys are wearing each other’s shirts!” Stan gestured at Lute and Ford.

              “That’s why this felt snug,” Ford mumbled, only just now realizing he had grabbed Lute’s flannel.  He looked over at Lute.  Lute seemed to similarly have not noticed until this moment he was wearing Ford’s T-shirt.  He was inspecting the stylized periodic table emblazoned across his chest.  Lute looked back up at Stan.

              “Fine.  You’ve caught us.  We’re dancin’ the goat’s jig,” Lute said.  He waved his hand.  Water flew out of the vase on the dining table and doused Stan’s hair.  Stan scowled.  His hair began to steam.  “No need to twist yourself into a knot over it.”  Smoke curled from Stan’s sleeve.

              “Lute’s right,” Ford said as gently as he could.  “I understand you might be upset we opted not to tell you, but-”

              “Oh, I’m not upset,” Stan said.  Ford blinked in surprise.

              “Really?  Because you seem-”

              “I’m pissed!”

              “That’s a bit misleading-” Ford started.

              “I’m pissed as hell!” Stan continued, ignoring Ford.  “You guys are doing the exact same thing you got on my case for!  Mine and Angie’s!”

              “Angie’s and mine,” Ford mumbled.  Stan’s hair caught fire again.

              “Now’s not the time,” Lute hissed to Ford.

              “Right,” Ford said quietly.

              “Ford, a million times, you told me to rethink my relationship with Angie. You told me I was stupid for dating her. Over and over again!  You said she wasn’t good for me!” Stan shouted.

              “Wait, what?” Lute said.  “You didn’t think Angie was good enough fer Stan?”  Lute crossed his arms, completely ignoring his egg on the stove.  “You don’t think my amazing sister with a doctorate degree is good enough fer yer high school dropout brother?”

              “No!  No, that’s not what I meant at all!” Ford protested, holding up his hands.  “I just meant that Angie and Stan aren’t good for each other.  They aren’t right for each other.”  Ford glared at Stan.  “But I’ve since told Stan that I’ve changed my stance on the subject.”

              “Yeah, and you’re not one to talk, Lute,” Stan snapped.  “Angie told me how you kept telling her to rethink dating me, that she can do better, she should just sue for full rights to the kids. And don’t forget that time you spied on us while we were at the park!”  Stan slammed a fist on the counter.  Lute and Ford winced at the force behind the gesture.  “You two put us through the wringer ‘cause we’re a hero and villain, and now you guys are pulling the same shit?  The same exact shit?”

              “It’s not exactly the same,” Lute said.  “Fer one thing, Ford’s not a hero.”

              “He’s helped out my squad enough, he practically is.”

              “Stan, this is different,” Ford insisted.  Stan glowered.

              “I don’t see how.”

              “Yer bein’ awful immature about this,” Lute said, crossing his arms.

              “What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”  Stan looked at the stove.  “Your food is too burnt for even me to eat, Lute.”

              “Oh, shoot!”  Lute turned the stove off, frowning at the completely black scrambled eggs in the pan.

              “…I’ve gotta go home.  I’ve got two daughters and a fiancée to take care of,” Stan said after a moment.

              “I’ll see you tomorrow to pick up the girls,” Ford said hesitantly.  Stan paused.

              “Maybe.  Maybe not.”

              “What?  You’re not going to prevent me from babysitting my nieces because of this, are you?” Ford asked.

              “Dunno.  I’ll have to talk to Angie about how both our twin brothers ended up bein’ damn dirty hypocrites.”  Stan sighed. “Look, this wouldn’t be as big a deal if you hadn’t decided to hide it from us.  Or if you hadn’t been so shitty to us when we were first dating.  But you did both those things, and…”  Stan clenched his hands into fists. “…Whatever.  We might take a little while to cool down, so just wait for us to call.  We’ll let you know when we’re ready to talk.”  Stan walked away.  The front door opened and closed.  Lute turned to Ford.

              “How much are ya goin’ to bet they’ll spill to our folks ‘bout our relationship?”

              “Relationship?”  Ford removed Lute’s shirt, frowning.  “I thought you said this wasn’t romantic.  It was just sexual relations.”

              “Uh.  Yeah. That’s what I meant,” Lute said, rubbing the back of his neck.  His cheeks were pink.  Ford fought back the thought that Lute was extraordinarily cute when flustered. “Our, ah, sexual relationship.”

              “Oh.  Okay.” An awkward silence fell.  Ford cleared his throat.  “And to answer your question, I doubt either of them will actually say anything.  Particularly once they’ve cooled off.”

              “Yeah, yer prob’ly right.”  Lute sighed, looking at his burnt snack.  “Well, looks like I oughta make myself a new one.  D’ya want any?”

              “Sure.  Thank you.”

              “No problem.”  Lute pointed his spoon at Ford.  “But in exchange, ya best give me my shirt back.”  Ford smiled weakly, still a bit shaken from Stan’s scolding earlier, but warming up in the face of Lute’s light-hearted banter.

              “Only if you return mine.”