yeah anyway so the au is a thing now
au: an au where amon stayed with the family that adopted him as a child instead of running away, thus growing up in modest wealth. hya was raised by his mother in the slums and gets a job as a butler in amon’s home. shenanigans and a lot of amon being fucking thirsty ensues :)
nothing really tw worthy happens just them bickering as usual. oh, and ig amon paying too much attention to hya’s body but yknow
Amon folded his arms, wholly unimpressed with the disaster in the laundry quarters. There was soap and water dripping from the machines and the floor, and the cause of this apparent mess sat fiddling with a lighter on top of one of the loud, rumbling machines. Hya didn’t look up at him when Amon approached. A long, thin, green cigarette dangled from his plush lips. Amon stopped directly in front of him, tapping his foot against the concrete. When Hya still didn’t acknowledge him, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve never met a butler that can’t wash clothes.”
“So you haven’t.” Hya flicked the spark wheel of the lighter, once; twice. Amon knew it was old, besides, the telltale rust around the metal bits gave it away. He maneuvered the cigarette clenched between his teeth, clearly concentrating, until the lighter finally sparked to life; a tiny dancing flame blooming into view. Hya cupped his free hand around the lighter’s flame and brought it carefully to the cigarette still balanced precariously between his teeth and lit it. It took a few seconds, but finally, Hya sucked in a long drag, and Amon bemusedly noted that the smoke smelled of orange and ginger. Undoubtedly, he stole it—from Amon’s private collection, no less. A bold move.
Still unbothered by the mess around them, Hya blew out the drag, taking the cigarette from his lips. “Any other pointless questions?” Amon plucked the cigarette from Hya’s hand, and took a drag himself. It tasted different, as if the mere proximity to Hya’s teeth and tongue could alter its very nature; a hint of bitterness like strong coffee hit his tongue intermingled with the orange and ginger. “Perhaps.” Amon said. As it were, Hya only narrowed his eyes at him. Amon released a cloud of smoke towards one of the many windows. “A lovely blend. Where did you buy it?” Hya only rolled his eyes. “Nabbed it off your nightstand when I was in there earlier. You tell me.” Amon feigned shock, touching a hand to his chest. “It’s not every day you meet an honest thief.” Hya shrugged, seeming unbothered. “Why lie?” Amon looked at him strangely, but schooled his expression quickly. “And what were you doing in my room earlier? Cleaning, I hope.” Hya snatched the cigarette back from him and took in another drag. He tilted his head back to blew out a lazy smoke ring. Amon’s eyes traced the column of Hya’s neck. “Take a wild guess.”
“Do I want to know?” Amon tried to glare at him, but his eyes continued to shift lower to the open cotton shirt that exposed the lines of Hya’s collar. The beginnings of the planes of his chest. When he managed to tear his gaze away, he caught a dark glint in Hya’s coffee brown eyes and in return, the butler said nothing. Amon let his gaze flutter away from him, and sighed for affect. “How on earth did my parents hire you?”
“That broad isn’t your birth mother, is she.” And unwittingly, Amon’s gaze snapped back to Hya’s. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Don’t look a damn thing like her.” Another drag of the cigarette. Another smoke ring. “But, genetics have been stranger, I’ve heard.”
“I’m surprised you know the word.” Amon snapped. Hya’s face remained impasse, unflinching at Amon’s sudden change in mood. What kind of thoughts swirled in this man’s damn head? Why did he bother asking? Why did he act as if he knew anything about it? It was all getting under his skin. Amon reached out and took the cigarette back from Hya’s lips and smudged it out on the side of the washing machine.
“If I catch you with another one of these, I’ll fire you.”
“Sure.” Hya sounded wholly uninterested. “If you’re done being a fucking nuisance, don’t you have some assembly to be going to.”
“I expect this—“ Amon gestured to the piles of clothes and linens strewn about the laundry facilities. “—to be done by the time we return. I will not entertain any excuses.” Hya only waved him off, kicking his feet against the machine that he sat atop of before Amon finally grew tired of waiting for some type of response. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room; careful to keep his shoulders set lest Hya think he’d had some affect on him.
