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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

hoo hoo HA HA ho ho it's time for this au

“Hey,” said Senator Leia Organa’s horrible son, leaning against Hux’s desk. “Staff ass.”

Hux hit the hold button on six calls and gave the senator’s horrible son a narrow-eyed look over the flower arrangement. “Staff assistant,” he said. “Do you have an appointment?”

The horrible son was opening his mouth to respond when Senator Organa’s communications director Phasma skidded out of her office and started rifling through the front desk inbox.

“Hey,” she said to Hux. “Staff ass. Do you have tour lists for today?”

Hux tried to gather the tatters of his dignity. Then he discovered that he had put his angry constituent on speaker instead of hold.

“What am I listening to, an orgy?” the phone blared. “I said I needed Senator Organa to do my taxes.”

“One moment,” said Hux, and unplugged the phone.

“Here it is,” said Phasma. “You have a tour for three people from the Washington Free Beacon at two o’clock.”

“Is there a conflict?”

Phasma stared at him.

Hux’s Monday from hell escalated into a Tuesday, a Wednesday, and a Thursday from hell, and on Friday he ran into Senator Organa’s son at American Ice Company.

“Hey!” said the horrible son. He was about seven feet taller than anyone else in the bar. “Staff ass!”

Four different people looked up from their drinks.

“I’m Kylo Ren,” said the horrible son, and shook Hux’s hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself on Monday, but it seemed like you were about to get fired.”

“What?” shouted Hux.

“I’m Kylo Ren,” Kylo Ren shouted back. “I’m in a band.”

“I can’t hear you,” said Hux.

“It’s cool,” said Kylo Ren. “I can tell you about my band later. Do you want a pickleback or nah?”

“Nah,” said Hux.

Kylo Ren handed him two tiny mason jars of whiskey and pickle juice.

“So what do you do?” asked Hux an hour later. They were outside, and had miraculously developed the ability to hear each other speak.

“I’m in a band,” said Ren. “I play bass.”

“Are you any good?”

“I’m the best,” said Ren.

He wasn’t actually very good at all, once he had his bass out and was playing Acid Dad songs in Senator Leia Organa’s Friendship Heights rowhouse.

Ren had a room on the top floor, with a triangular window and slanted ceilings. Hux noticed that he was wearing a blue-and-black baja hoodie and the whole room had a steamed-in pot smell that must have come with the house. There were photographs of his grandfather everywhere.

“Wow,” said Hux, and blew Senator Leia Organa’s horrible son while they listened to a Spotify “Trapaholics” playlist.

Photographs of Secretary of State Anakin Skywalker watched them from the walls.

Hux snuck out on Saturday morning and waited twenty minutes for the red line, hunched around a bottle of Powerade. His phone was dead, there was track work in both directions, and he had almost had a heart attack tip-toeing down what sounded like one thousand of the world’s loudest stairs in his boss’s home.

He saw Kylo Ren the following Wednesday, at free breakfast sponsored by the American Egg Board. All of Senator Organa’s interns were there, siphoning eggs into any reasonable receptacle and exchanging their thoughts on the internship program and bars that didn't card.

“Hey,” said Hux, tapping one of the interns on the shoulder. “We need three of you guys to stand in line for a hearing.”

“Make him do it,” said Finn, gesturing at the towering form of an unfamiliar intern in a suit composed of non-matching black fabric.

Kylo Ren turned around. “Hey,” he said. “So I’m also, technically, one of my mom’s interns.”

Hux tried to think about icebergs. “Can you stand in line for a hearing?”

“My band’s playing at Wonderland on Thursday,” said Ren. “If you promise to go, then I’ll do the hearing.”

“What is your band called?”

“Anakin Skywalker,” said Ren. “After my grandfather.”

Finn the intern was grinning.

“Fine,” Hux snapped, and handed them each a schedule. “Just go to the hearing.”

One of the first rules of DC, Hux’s Craigslist roommates had explained to him upon his moving in, was that as a junior staffer to a senior senator, one was free to blow and be blown by almost the entire District, including tourists.

There were only three categories of people whose dicks were strictly off-limits: Interns, the children of elected officials, and justices of the United States Supreme Court.

“And I’d say band members,” Rey had said. “But that’s kind of a personal preference thing.”

Phasma asked to see him after the hearing. Hux trudged into her office and braced himself to be gruesomely fired.

“You have to tell the interns not to sleep if they’re in the room,” she said. “There were like four awake people there.”

“Sorry,” he said. “They were kind of taken off guard.”

Phasma sighed. “Kylo has been an intern here for three years,” she said, and then lowered her voice. “We keep him on correspondence.”

Hux crossed his arms, and didn’t say that Ren was probably still an intern so he could honeypot earnest young political staffers out of their jobs, and also for free eggs.

On Thursday he watched Anakin Skywalker the band shout songs about Secretary of State Anakin Skywalker the person, then went back to the Woodley Park rowhouse to get high and fool around on top of Ren’s incongruously nautical-striped duvet.

Ren called him an Uber at five in the morning and set the playlist to “Emo Fever.” Hux was preposterously moved, and, determining that he was circling the drain of attachment, deleted Ren’s number on Saturday and adopted a cat that Sunday.

There was a line to adopt cats.

“I hate DC,” Hux heard someone mutter.

--

THE END

This was fun. I am never, ever moving to DC.

Oh shit, this was great! Probably not so great for you, anon, if this was in any way autobiographical, but great for me, the greedy consumer of AUs. Staff Ass, Acid Dad, the spotify playlists, the suit of non-matching black fabric, Anakin Skywalker the band shouting songs about Secretary of State Anakin Skywalker the person -- just fucking great.

*toasts anon with a pickleback*

amazing!!

well that is 150% accurate i can tell you that rn

"Do you want a pickleback or nah?”
“Nah,” said Hux.
Kylo Ren handed him two tiny mason jars of whiskey and pickle juice.

I have been on both ends of this pickleback nonsense. This is hilarious and probably very accurate. I could read 50k+ of this ♥

amazing!

Terribly late to the party but god does this make me miss home. If the Red Line isn't single tracking on a weekend, you aren't really living.

PROMPT POST #4

This post is closed to new prompts!

Fill: Horrible DC AU [1/?]

Fill: Horrible DC AU [2/?]

Fill: Horrible DC AU [3/?]

Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]

Re: Fill: Horrible DC AU [4/4]