#if your rivalry lasts more than 800 years YOU ARE GAY

[obihoeee]

spinn spin tumblr didnt let me upload highe quality gif 🤬 ill post it on tiktok or something

[agoodflyting]

Cleanup in Aisle Five - Kylux, housewife!au

Another bit of housewife!AU. I’m still deciding if I want to post this on AO3 as-is or continue it, so I’ll leave it here in the meantime.

2100 words / light M / kylux modern AU

Hux always feels like a prey animal at the grocery store.

He pauses in picking through a colorful display of starfruit and papayas to do a casual scan of the produce section. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Richard Attenborough is narrating.

The male uses his superior height to evade detection by the females of the species while foraging.

Adding a couple of mangoes to the hand basket at his elbow, he snorts quietly to himself.

It wasn’t that he was antisocial. He generally liked being around people, especially when he could be in charge of group activities. But something seemed to happen to women his age who had moved to a rich suburb and produced the obligatory 2.5 children. It came with the territory, like one of those awful minivans with the televisions in them, or an affinity for kale smoothies. They would corner him with effusively friendly offers; invitations to play tennis, to join book club, to go shopping -  help me pick out a swim suit, you always have such good taste- or to come over for girls night.

We’re going to watch Magic Mike, Susan’s bringing the wine so we might get a little crazy, and I’m making these cute little fat free chocolate rice balls I saw on pinterest-

Meanwhile, Hux couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being hunted and bagged and mounted for display- the rare and elusive gay best friend to complete the appearance of the picture-perfect life for some aging California housewife.

That was better than the alternative, of course- that they were just being friendly because he was one of them. The thought makes him feel cold in a way that has nothing to do with the chilly air in the produce section.

Hux suddenly wishes that he could text Ben. Just a little hello. He was running errands with his mother today, but even just a little hi back had the power to make him smile, despite the fact that Ben couldn’t spell for shit and he put those stupid emoji things in everything.

Much as he wants it, Hux isn’t a complete idiot. His iPhone is in his husband’s name, it would be far too easy for Devon to have those records pulled if he ever found out about Ben. Phone records were easier to brush off so long as they weren’t excessive, but any contact he has with Ben through text needed to be strictly professional.

He completes his circuit of the grocery store, grabbing coconut milk and whole-grain cereal for himself, and grinding coffee for Devon. Bread and yogurt. Multivitamins and that fancy pineapple juice they both liked. Devon’s flight was supposed to come in at 7:45 that night, so he supposes he’ll need to make something for a proper dinner, although after staring blankly at a wall of organic dried pasta for several minutes without seeing it, he finally just decides fuck it, they can order Chinese.

When he heads for the checkout, he passes a little display of cheap pre-paid phones. The kind you activate by calling an 800-number and pay by the minute. He’s used them before, doing security.

He’s in line at the register, his mind half-blank, when the sound of his first name startles him out of his sulk.

“Hello, Armitage.”

“Senator Organa,” he says, turning. “How are you?”

“Good, mainly because I haven’t been a senator for three years. Unless there was an election no one told me about.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “There was, actually. Last week. You didn’t hear?”

“I must have missed it. Well, damn,” she says lightly. “I guess I have to go get my hair done.”

Hux has always respected his neighbor for her sharp wit and brash attitude, even if they found themselves frequently, vocally, at odds during her stint as head of the homeowner’s association. More than once, Hux had considered staging a coup.

“How’s Devon?” Leia asks, as she reaches past him to begin unloading her hand-basket onto the conveyor belt. “I haven’t seen him around lately.”

Another reason he liked Leia Organa. She was the only woman in their neighborhood who had never once patted him on the arm and giggled about what a ‘waste’ of a good man he was.

“In and out of Chicago supervising some corporate merger business. I haven’t been kept in the loop on the details,” he says, trying for uncaring and only barely missing.

She huffs a laugh. “That sounds familiar. It’s the secret of a long marriage, you know,” she adds.

“What, ignorance?”

“No. ...well, okay, that seems to work for some people, but not our type.”

There is something flattering in being lumped as the same ‘type’ as a woman like Leia Organa, but he cannot quite encapsulate what. Still, it makes him smile.

“I meant travel,” she continues easily as Hux moves up in line. “It’s much easier to miss some people than to live with them. The only reason my marriage has survived as long as it has is because we’re only in the same state two months out of the year. We’ve learned how to leave right when the other one is getting irritating.”

“And when is that?”

“About ten minutes after he opens his mouth, in my case,” she says, but there’s a fondness in her voice that belies the words.

“A whole ten minutes?”

“Used to be five. I’m getting soft on him.”

Having gotten him to laugh, she gives a satisfied pat to Hux’s elbow, the one still holding the grocery basket. “There. There’s your motherly advice for the day.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind. It’s not often I get good advice, motherly or otherwise.”

He moves up to the front of the line and waits with muted impatience, his card already in the pin reader and waiting for cashier authorization while the boy scans.

“Mom-” Hux turns.

“There you are, I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” Leia says.

“They only had the twenty-four packs, so I just got two. Is that okay?” Ben edges his way around the  people who have lined up being Leia. He’s easily holding two large cases of artisanal bottled water stacked on top of each in his long arms. “Sorry, excuse me-” The plastic containers creak in his grip.

“That’s fine, thank you baby. Watch out, don’t hit anybody-”

“Hello, Ben,” Hux says, looking at the chip machine and focusing on punching in his pin to keep the unseemly smile off his face.

The last time he’d seen Ben had been yesterday evening. Lying beside Hux’s pool had turned to skinny-dipping once the sun had gone down. His hands remember the feel of Ben’s bare skin under the water, the delicious heat of his cock pressing eagerly up between Hux’s thighs. Kisses that tasted like chlorine. Stroking each other off under the water.

When it got late, Hux hadn’t wanted to let him go. Had dragged him down on the couch as he tried to leave through the front door and blown him again, swallowing down Ben’s cock and his needy little whimpers like he was starving for them.

“Oh, hey, uh- mister Hux.” From the sound of it, Ben’s doing his best not to smile too.

And just like that, the tension that had knotted in Hux’s chest evaporates.

He steps out of the way with his shopping bag, hovering at the end of the lane while Ben hefts up the water to be scanned, the muscles in his arms and back moving easily under the fabric of his black t-shirt. Leia had forced him into clean, nice-fitting jeans and a knotted belt that Hux can just see peeking up under the shirt when Hux’s eyes are pulled down the sharp line of his body. When he lifts the water, Hux catches a flash of one angular hipbone where his jeans ride low even with the belt.

“Do you want a hand, Ben?” he asks, his tone innocent. He waits until the tips of Ben’s ears flush pink before he adds, nodding, “With the water.”

“I’m- it’s good, I’ve got it,” Ben stammers, shifting the weight. Hux is reminded suddenly of those broad hands under his thighs, lifting him up, and-

Christ, he’s got to get a hold of himself. He’s in fucking public.

Ben casts shy, appreciative little glances at Hux out of the corner of his eye while Leia pays, whenever he thinks she can’t see him. In the watery sunlight through the front windows of the shop, his eyes are a warm honeyed brown.

“So, uh- grocery shopping?” Ben says. Hux can almost see the moment he realizes what a silly line that was.

“Just a few essentials. I’ve been preoccupied lately, haven’t gotten to the store as much as usual.”

“Yeah? That’s not like you.” They are both trying not to smile. “What are you so preoccupied with?”

If they were alone, Hux would lean in close and say, your cock just to watch the way Ben stammered and blushed. It’s all he wants to do. But they’re not alone, they’re in the middle of fucking Whole Foods and Ben’s mother is five feet away, so he blurts out, “Work,” instead, and has enough time to feel stupid- this boy is actually making him stupid- before he can cover his embarrassment.

“It’s very nice of you, helping your poor mother around like this.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a crack about my height or my age,” Leia interrupts, raising an eyebrow as she joins them. putting away her pocketbook.

“I would never,” Hux insists, the picture of innocence, glad to have something to focus on besides how Ben is standing beside him and Hux can feel the warmth of Ben’s bare arm through his own sleeve. “Insult your height or your age. What kind of man do you think I am?”

“Just my intelligence, then? And I thought you were the kind who calls me an ‘aesthetically bankrupt bleeding-heart hypocrite’ because I approved the Becketts satellite dish?”

He follows them outside, blinking in the afternoon sun.

“That was friendly professional rivalry, nothing more.”

“Professional rivalry implies you’re on the homeowners board. You’re not.”

Hux shuts his mouth, bested.  

“Aand I think that’s mom: one, Hux: zero,” Ben smirks as they approach Leia’s sensible black sedan in the parking lot. Hux shoots him a look that plainly says, traitor.

“Oh, it’s a lot more than one, honey,” Leia pats Ben on the arm.

“The thing’s still a damn eyesore,” he calls after Leia, with no real venom, when she climbs in the driver’s seat, leaving Ben to wrestle their groceries into the trunk.

“You’re still not on the board.” she calls back before shutting the door.

“You shut up,” Hux says to Ben, who had started to snicker.

“What? It’s funny.”

“My complete assassination by your mother isn’t funny.”

“Yeah it is.” He’s smiling, leaning one hip on the trunk of the car, and Hux has the worst urge to kiss it off the corner of his mouth. “You guys both like to argue way too much. It’s funny.”

“I don’t like to argue.”

“See? That’s- you’re doing it right now.”

“Am not,” Hux says, just to make him duck his head and laugh. 

He swallows and looks away, sun-blinded by Ben’s smile. “Come over later,” he murmurs, glancing to see if Leia is paying any attention to them, comforted that they are mostly blocked by the open trunk of the car.

It was only twelve-thirty. Devon’s flight wouldn’t be in until nearly eight.

He’s never been an addict. His father drank, his mother smoked, but nothing has ever stuck to him that way. The lack of something has never made him desperate, not unless it was recognition and even that was more out of spite than desire. But every time he tells himself it’s going to his last with Ben, something in him scrabbles, frantic to eke out just a little more.

Ben swallows. “I can’t.” His eyes are on Hux’s neck, his shoulders. He sighs, a loud frustrated rush of air, “My parents are- they have shit for me to do all day. I have to clean out the stupid garage.”

Something uncomfortably like disappointment blossoms in Hux’s chest. He hates it even more because every inch of him knows that what he’s asking is stupid and pathetic- neither terms he’s ever wanted to associate with himself. “That’s alright.”

And because he is spiteful in his disappointment, he pitches his voice to a low murmur and adds, “I’ll just have to keep myself busy.”

The barb hits home. Ben bits his lip, clearly picturing Hux panting into the pillow as he fucks himself with his largest toy, Ben’s name on his lip, which of course had been Hux’s intention.

“Hux...”

The car horn honks and they both jump, suddenly aware that they’re lingering.

“I gotta go,” Ben, unhappiness in every word, and it’s almost enough to take the sting off of Hux’s disappointment. He shuts the trunk.

Hidden by the bulk of the car, Ben runs his hand- just the backs of two fingers, over Hux’s arm. The touch is like sunlight, soft and a little warm on his skin. Ben tangles their fingers together briefly as their hands part. “See you later though, okay? Tomorrow?”

He doesn’t move, unwilling to budge until Hux responds and for the first time, Hux hates this. Leia hits the horn again.

“Yes, alright, alright. Bye. Go away, before your mother runs me over.”

And that is all it takes to put a warm grin on Ben’s face. “Bye, Hux.”

He forces himself to move, not the stand there and watch Ben fold his long body up into Leia’s little car and drive away. The sun is beating down on the back of his neck. He still has his little bag of groceries in one hand- had held it like an idiot all through that desperate little play. When he reaches his car- an SUV, more because he enjoyed the feeling of driving something big than because he needed the space- he tucks his solitary bag into the empty hatchback, wedging it into a corner so it won’t spill as he drives. He pauses, one hand on the hatch to close it, before going back and fishing something out of the bag.

The car starts with a quiet hum. It was less than a year old and still faintly smelled it.

It had been a Christmas present from Devon.

Hux sighs, sitting there in his silent car in the parking lot, but really he had made this decision ages ago. This was just... seeing it through.

Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabs the pre-paid phone he had bought inside and begins to open it.