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.”

xfinalizer:

techiehux:

He flinches, face a grimace and heart aching. Too far, Hux. Techie does not like his family; yes, that’s true. But to be hated here, too? He can’t take it.

Techie swallows dry and becomes acutely aware of the sneers and jeers directed towards them. So many people <i>watching</i> him. He reaches out to gently touch Hux’s arm, face pleading. “C-can we talk about this somewh-where less public?”

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. Their stares are making his head spin.

       

{ ♚ }

❝

Absolutely not.

❞

       

He tugged his arm away from Techie’s grasp with startling cruelty. Blood alone did not a family make… and the brothers Hux shared only half of it, to begin with.

       

❝

You made your bed, Brother.

❞

He spat that last word with such utter disdain that it would leave even the strongest man reeling,

❝

…Now you will lie in it. Pray tell, what ever is the matter? Is attention not what you craved from the start… you revolting slattern?

❞

“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.

He flinches, face a grimace and heart aching. Too far, Hux. Techie does not like his family; yes, that’s true. But to be hated here, too? He can’t take it.

Techie swallows dry and becomes acutely aware of the sneers and jeers directed towards them. So many people watching him. He reaches out to gently touch Hux’s arm, face pleading. “C-can we talk about this somewh-where less public?”

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. Their stares are making his head spin.

xfinalizer:

techiehux:

With a yelp, Techie crouches down on the floor and covers his head with his arms protectively, an instinct tightly held. He shakes as Hux approaches. “H-Hux… I’m sorry! I’m s-so s-sorry!”

In Techie’s mind, the best course of action is always to apologize profusely and hope the beating won’t be too bad. Whether there will be a beating or not this time is irrelevant. He’ll still cry and apologize (mostly out of habit).

           

{ ♚ }

❝

I can’t believe this…

❞

           

Such a stark contrast between the brothers: Armitage, standing tall with perfect posture, his hands, gloved and folded behind his back… and Techie, huddled in a ball, a nervous wreck –

           

❝

I’d heard rumors whispered in the shadows that my brother, my own flesh and blood, was stalking through the night like a common harlot. ❞

           

❝ …But do you know what I said to those petty gossips? That despite his timidity, my brother had honor. That he would never dare to sling mud upon our family name – upon my name!

❞

He hesitantly removed his arms from his head, gazing up at his brother with wet, narrowed eyes. “F-fuck you,” Techie snaps. “I n-never asked to be a Hux!” Though his words are heated, the full-body tremors don’t stop, and his eyes well up again with tears.

He can’t get any fucking peace no matter where he goes; The Hux name follows him around like a foul stench that’s seeped into his pores.

“Techie” isn’t any better, but it’s the only other name he’s got. Won’t go by “William Hux” ever again, that’s for sure.

As quickly as he can manage, Techie stands up to his full height and regards his brother with caution. To add insult to injury, he says, “I just wanted to g-get laid. But I’m sure you don’t know anything about that!”

He’s digging his own grave at this point, but Techie no longer cares. Being a human doormat gets exhausting.

xfinalizer:

techiehux:

Techie jumps up from the counter, horrified, and tries to duck into the crowd. This can’t be happening! All he can think is a stream of “holy shit holy shit holyshitholySHIT!”

       

{ ♚ }

It isn’t difficult to track that bright little spot of red hair, weaving through the crowd in a desperate panic. 

       

With an irritated sigh, as if unable to fully grasp the fact that he could ever be put in such an absurd situation, Hux stalks after his brother with confident strides, the crowd, parting before him in a subconscious deferment to his natural aura of authority. 

       

❝

Not another step!

❞

he commands, his voice booming through the room, sharp and piercing despite the din of the crowd and the wild music.

With a yelp, Techie crouches down on the floor and covers his head with his arms protectively, an instinct tightly held. He shakes as Hux approaches. “H-Hux… I’m sorry! I’m s-so s-sorry!”

In Techie’s mind, the best course of action is always to apologize profusely and hope the beating won’t be too bad. Whether there will be a beating or not this time is irrelevant. He’ll still cry and apologize (mostly out of habit).