#like theres an ‘armitage’ in there. can i be so serious
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the gang goes to mcdonalds
#the terror#james fitzjames#francis crozier#cornelius hickey#the guy going lol is supposed to be like near death goodsir#if you can recognize even one face in the car i will be shocked#like theres an ‘armitage’ in there. can i be so serious#no recognition just right#myart#second shifts worst nightmare
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A little late, but here’s Day 4 for @kyluxromanceweek with “Secret Crush.” More office AUs, because why not.
Hux can’t help but scowl when he returns to his cubicle, fresh cup of coffee in hand, to find a little wrapped box sitting just in front of his keyboard.
He narrows his eyes at it, as if his stare could wither the sparkly red bow sitting innocently atop the shiny golden paper. It’s not the first strange gift he’s received in the past few weeks, and honestly? They’re starting to wear on his nerves.
He growls as he sets his steaming coffee cup on the desk and picks up the box, looking down his nose at it as he turns it over in his hands. Of course there’s no tag. Whoever is doing this clearly doesn’t want to be found out.
Hux shakes the gift, considering just dumping it in the trash and forgetting about it altogether, but instead he pulls at the red bow and slips it off before tearing into the paper. Beneath he finds a silky red box, a name Hux recognizes from the high-end grocery store he occasionally frequents scrawled in gold on top. He pries open the lid and wrinkles his nose at the fancy chocolates nestled inside—the kind of heavy, indulgent sweets that Hux hardly partook in. He scowls and stuffs them into his laptop bag, trying to put the gift far from his mind so he could get the afternoon’s work done.
Whoever thought it funny to play such a joke wasn’t going to get a rise out of Hux that easily.
The following day Hux returns from a trip to the bathroom to find a single rose, lovingly wrapped in red ribbon, siting in his mesh pencil holder. Hux frowns, plucking the rose out and peering around the wall of his cubicle to where Phasma sits at her desk, phone cradled against her shoulder. She shoots Hux a quizzical look, signing off from the call and setting it back in its cradle.
“What is it?”
“Did you see who left this?” He brandishes the rose at her, eyebrows furrowed. She glances at the rose for a moment, before smirking.
“You got an admirer?”
“Of course not,” Hux hisses, shaking the stupid flower. “Someone is obviously trying to make a joke out of me. Make me look like some kind of lovesick fool.”
Phasma laughs, turning around in her chair to face him.
“You know, most people would be happy to get free gifts, even if it was from a stranger.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Lighten up a little.”
Hux scowls, folding his arms.
“I’ll ‘lighten up’ as soon as I figure out who is doing this. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open next time I leave my desk, see if whoever they are shows themselves.”
“Yes sir,” Phasma taunts as he storms back to his cubicle, stuffing the rose in one of his drawers before getting back to work. He gets up to grab coffee , but to his surprise and slight disappointment no new gifts grace his desk, and Phasma tells him she didn’t notice anything.
When Hux comes to work early the next morning, there’s a massive bouquet of roses sitting daringly in his chair.
The gifts only grow more extravagant as the days go on. A little gift bag filled with delicate macarons and rolls of fruit pastilles. More flowers, this time a striking bunch of black lilies. A half-sized bottle of Prosecco. A small porcelain figure of a cat—which, despite himself, Hux actually likes, and sits on the little shelf above his computer as soon as he unwraps it.
And still he’s been unable to figure out who’s responsible, or why they’re doing it.
He’s sure it must be a prank, but there’s no one in the office he believes would go to such lengths. These kind of gifts are expensive, nothing even the most dedicated would throw away on some silly joke.
Then why?
Periodically he considers Phasma’s suggestion, that he has a true admirer—but he isn’t exactly well-liked among his coworkers. He’s more than competent in his work but rather cold when it comes to socializing, not interested in gossip or debate with the rest of the office. Hux is the type to keep his personal life far removed from his professional life, disinterested in indulging his colleagues’ incessant need for small-talk.
He can’t imagine any of them wanting to become—romantically involved with him.
So maybe it really is a joke at his expense. Perhaps the entire office pooled their funds together, just to lead Hux on, make him believe anyone could ever be interested in him. Maybe they were just waiting for him to fall for it, so they could
Honestly, Hux can’t wait for the weekend, where he might be free of all this nonsense for two blissful days. He checks his watch as he returns from his lunch break, hoping the next few hours will fly by, so he can spend his time in the solitude of his apartment with his cat and favorite books.
But as Hux approaches his cubicle he stops dead in his tracks, lips parting in surprise at what he sees—not another bouquet of roses nor box of chocolates, but a besuited man with long, dark hair barely tamed back against his head.
Hux recognizes him instantly.
Ren, one of the upper managers that Hux rarely even saw in his department, though he certainly heard plenty of rumors about the man. He apparently came from a wealthy family, and Hux has heard grumblings that may have influenced his appointment. From the few times Hux has encountered him, he seems a touch too changeable for such a position, but otherwise he’d never given the man much thought.
Until now, when he notices the wrapped box in Ren’s hand, topped with the same kind of red ribbon as all the other gifts Hux has received.
“You’re kidding,” is the first thing to come out of Hux’s mouth, in a wholly unprofessional manner but he can’t hold back. He stares at the gift in Ren’s hands, then up to the man’s face, feeling a conflict of emotions roil in his stomach at the amused expression he finds there.
“Nope. Just really good at sneaking around.” Ren smirks, looking quite satisfied with himself. Hux frowns, heart fluttering even as his mind reels in denial.
“I thought this was all a joke…it’s not a joke, is it?” He asks, taking a step back. Ren’s face falls slightly, frowning.
“No? Why would you think it was a joke?” He fidgets with the gift, confident posture taking a slight hit. “Did you not like the things I got you?”
“I—that’s not—that’s beside the point,” Hux stammers, regretting the flush he can feel crawling to his cheeks. “But I didn’t realize anyone here would be…serious about me. Much less a junior manager.”
He’d gone through a list of suspects in his head several times and had at least considered Ren, but quickly dismissed the possibility. Hux can’t wrap his head around the fact that Ren was responsible for this all along—but perhaps he’d been just that good at concealing his feelings. Biding his time, plying Hux with little gifts and presents until he felt confident enough to confront him.
It’s a little endearing—which is not a word he ever thought he’d ever ascribe to someone like Ren.
“I’m serious. Very serious.” Hux takes the wrapped box as Ren holds it out to him. His heart beats a little quickly as he pulls at the bow, taking the little lid off. His eyes widen at what he sees underneath, lips parting in surprise.
Nestled in a bed of white silk are a pair of golden cufflinks, dotted in the center with a dark red stone. Truthfully they’re a little too gaudy for Hux’s taste but he’s still bewildered by the gesture.
Alright. It’s definitely not a joke.
Ren moves in closer, and as Hux inhales sharply he can detect the strong scent of his cologne.
“Wear them tonight?”
“Tonight?” Hux looks up, raising his eyebrow. “What’s tonight?”
“A date. Well, hopefully.” Ren shrugs, closing Hux’s hand over the box. “If you’ll indulge me.”
Hux balks, eyes widening at his audacity. His first instinct is to say no, remembering his plans of solitude and relaxation for the weekend, but—
—It has been quite awhile since Hux has been on a proper date, and part of him feels curiosity at just what further sort of pampering Ren has in store for him. After a moment’s hesitation he composes himself with a nod.
“I don’t have a car. You’ll have to pick me up.” Despite himself, Hux feels his heartbeat pick up in his chest. The grin returns to Ren’s face, looking excited as a schoolboy with a crush.
“Deal. See you tonight, Armitage.” And with an affectionate pat to the hand he turns away and walks away, leaving Hux to ponder over what exactly he’s gotten himself into this evening.
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