xfinalizer:

techiehux:

“Not this kind of attention, and you know it!” Techie hisses, jaw tense. The urge to strike Hux across his prim, haughty face and fall into an outright brawl is almost too much to take; they’re both evenly matched in weight though his brother hides it well with those bulky greatcoats. Techie could do it, would do it. If he wasn’t a better person.

Frustrated and still agonizingly horny (God fucking damn it), Techie seethes, “Would you l-let me be a whore like your m-mother was in peace?! I’ll do as I damn well please! At least I’m enough of a faggot to n-not knock a girl up and make a bastard kid like you!”

Techie moves to push past Hux and leave. He’ll go to another bar, find a handsome man to fuck him senseless, and forget alllll about this debacle. Good plan.

     

{ ♚ } His hand shoots out with lightning speed, gripping onto his brother’s arm with surprising, bruising strength: a cold and silent kind of furor. For a moment, he simply stares, frozen in place. Only after a moment does it ever become apparent that Armitage is clenching his jaw with such force that it could almost shatter.

     

❝

…You don’t get to speak about my mother that way. Don’t you even mention her!

❞

     

It is the first time that night that he’s truly lost his temper, his voice, booming through the room with a harsh and brutal sense of authority that only a general could ever possess.

     

❝

You don’t have the right. Because the two of us –

❞

he began, always so proud to associate himself with the one person who had ever truly loved him –

❝

My mother and I, had to scrape and bow for survival, starting from nothing, while we looked after you, with that little, silver spoon in your mouth –

❞

     

His expression turns twists into something cruel and merciless, endlessly mocking.

     

❝

…But where is your advantage, now, William? What have you accomplished with your wasted life? Outdone and overshadowed by a servant’s son and a bastard.

❞

The sharp pain of Hux’s iron grip is enough to make Techie’s eyes glaze over and his mouth fall open in a soundless plea. But this agony, while intense, doesn’t hold a candle to MaMa. “I d-don’t care, Armitage. You can have your g-glory or whatever the hell you want, I’ve NEVER asked for this. Dunno about you, but I’m happy! Maybe even more th-than you!”

He tries to twist out of Hux’s deathgrip, to no avail. What Techie’d said about his mother settles uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t meant that, not really. All this tension and yelling was breaking him out into a cold sweat.

“Your mom,” Techie begins, voice a little hoarse with shame, “She didn’t d-deserve that. It was a low b-blow. I’m sorry.”

Just the same, did Hux think Techie hadn’t suffered at all? That he lived in some gilded little cage?

Calmer now, a little more himself, Techie said softly, “But you know better than anyone that I haven’t been l-living the good life. Do you need a r-reminder?” His mechanical eyes whirred extra loud like an ancient computer fan as if to prove his point.

“Please, H-Hux. You can punish me somewhere else, take me over your knee and spank me if th-that’s what you want, but stop yelling at me in public like I’m a little k-kid.”