Archive of Our Own

On Friday afternoon, Flux walks into the AirBnB room with a dull migraine and a looming sense of dread. 

There’s no reason he would be somewhere between the Hoover Dam and Las Vegas of his one volition. He’s been goaded out here by intimidation and threats. He’s practically held for ransom. His suitcase has three days worth of clothes and a toothbrush he picked up at the airport because he’s being inconvenienced by his father.

All of this has come to fruition via Elanuelo. One text message to a group chat, which Flux has tried leaving seven times now and has at least three members blocked in, informed him of two things. First, Elanuelo has reserved a house in Nevada for the weekend, and second, he’s going to cut people out of his will if they don’t make an appearance. 

Flux sends a $20 tip of daddy’s money to his airport Uber and drags his suitcase over the threshold. 

He glances at the lounge and finds Crow and Elanuelo sitting across from each other. Ender was a buffer shield between them, and might’ve been the only reason Crow wasn’t spitting on Elanuelo. The sunlight streaming in through the tall windows seemed more like death lasers. Flux can spy Cynikka and Turkey examining the back yard and pool.

On his way from the airport, he’d scrolled through the listing. Five bedrooms, two bathrooms, pool and hot tub- all sorts of things that he can do to avoid his family. Worst case scenario, he takes Elanuelo’s card and takes the 15-minute drive to the strip. At least he isn’t being taken hostage in some dump. Since he was the last one here, he had the last room.

He wants nothing more than to take a nap. He clears his throat.

Everyone else looks up. Elanuelo gets to his feet and smiles, arms held out wide. He’s just a bit shorter than Flux, but he hugs him like he hadn’t ruined his life and lifts him off of his feet. Flux tries not to yelp in favor of feigning nonchalance. He clenches his jaw as Elaneulo sets him down.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming!” He laughs, waiving any sort of proper greeting. “Good to see you made it, Flux.”

“Yep. I didn’t have a choice, thanks to you,” he grimaces. “Which room is mine?”

Elanuelo claps him on the shoulder. All of this facade is making his blood boil. “Say hi to your family first! You haven’t seen Ender in years!”

In a very metered sigh, he lifts his hand up and gives a half-hearted wave. “Hi, family. Can any of you direct me to my room?” 

“Upstairs, I think Cynikka took the end of the hall. You’ll probably be between her and the bathroom,” Ender says, refusing to look away from his phone. 

“Thank you,” he hisses, slipping out of Elanuelo’s reach. The glass door slides open as he moves for the stairs. 

He hears Turkey call after him as he pulls his luggage up the first step. “Hey, kid! Long time no see! You need help with that?”

There’s a brief pause for him to quell his anger. He stops and turns on the step. With a short, metered breath through his nose, he lets his shoulders drop and addresses Turkey with the most passive-aggressive smile and response he can form.

“It has been a while hasn’t it? I haven’t seen you since the custody dispute,” he drawls. “Anyway, I think I can handle this bag on my own, and then, I’m taking a nap.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Elanuelo says. “I reserved somewhere for dinner at eight.”

Flux steals a glance at his phone. It was only three in the afternoon. He grimaces at the reminder of his father’s overly-micromanaging, paranoid tendencies. It was a shame he picked a few of them up as a kid, too. He sighs.

“I’m jet lagged. You’ll see me when you have to.”

He vanishes upstairs after that.

Fluixon hardly survives the family dinner long enough for his food to come out. He grips his fork with white-knuckle force. To his left, Cynikka is folding her napkin for the fifth time. To his right, Crow is ordering another glass of wine. He’s fidgeting in his seat for fifteen minutes now. 

Elanuelo reserved a table at one of the overpriced restaurants on the strip. Not only overpriced, but the food was taking ages, and Flux was really starting to wonder when his food was coming. Everything on the menu seemed far too extravagant for him and his picky tastes, but he settled, and now he was regretting ever coming out this far in the first place. He doesn’t want any fancy, 150$ shrimp. He wants something deep-fried, greasy, and likely to make him throw up. 

He’s polished his prosthetic arm to a near-reflective clean twice in his boredom. They’ve been here an hour. He’s watching the blood-red wine pour into Crow’s glass as he waits impatiently. He’s got nothing better to do than judge the people around him silently. He’s eavesdropped on three other tables already. (Apparently, someone’s wife has complications with a rash, the table behind them is for someone getting engaged, and the third is spending all of their casino winnings on dinner. All absolutely riveting stuff.)

Elanuelo clears his throat. This is the third time he’s tried to start a conversation that falls flat to silence. Flux is prepared for it to do the same this time as he leans forward and puts his chin in his hand. 

“Ender, is it true you’re now managing two firms now?” He says offhandedly. 

Ender nods and puts his phone down on the table, wiping his face with a sigh. “Yeah, they put me over the second one in May.”

Fluixon rolls his eyes and scratches his head, then works his hand through his curls. He picks his water up and takes a sip, letting the melting ice hit his lip as he blows bubbles into it. His patience has worn thin and he’s decided it’s everyone else’s problem if he wants to act immature. 

“That’s good, isn’t it? It’d be nice if you two could be more like your brother…” Elanuelo mumbles. 

“He ran away when he was sixteen, Dad,” Cynikka groans, fixing her bangs as she sits up. 

“Not all of us want to waste our lives cleaning up other people’s messes.” Flux places his cup down as he adds on. 

“Then you certainly shouldn’t have children.” His father shakes his head.

Crow clears his throat. “Or get married to a manchild.”

Flux sits up with an exaggerated hum as he stretches his back against the chair, hands going over his head. He drops them back into his lap and rests his chin in his hand. “Thankfully, I don’t plan to do either.”

“Do you plan to do anything?” Elanuelo asks. “I don’t see the five grand I send you each month going towards anything very productive.”

Cynikka shoots up straight and flicks her head to her brother. “Five thousand? He’s getting five thousand and I’m only getting one? What the hell?”

Crow murmurs a prayer beneath his breath. Turkey turns around and flags down a nearby waiter, then starts to order a drink for himself. Ender adds his own onto the order. Fluixon sits up in his seat and mentally steels himself.

“I guess I’m just the favorite child.” Flux shrugs. 

“You were the apology child,” Cynikka hisses.

Flux sits up straighter and bristles. “An apology for you!”

“Clearly not a very good one, since they still got divorced.”

“I was ten! What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t fix the damage that you had done!” 

To his right, Crow puts his wine glass down abruptly and clears his throat. “She does have a point. You were just delaying the inevitable. That’s not to say leaving was entirely negative…”

Elanuelo turns his attention to Crow, raising an eyebrow. He leans forward and tilts his head as he skims Crow with his eyes. Crow leans back and crosses his arms, tilting his head up in contempt. 

“Guys, come on,” Turkey attempts to cool the argument down. “Does anybody have anywhere they wanna go this weekend?” 

Elanuelo ignores him and continues. “You know, I would’ve left Aculon sooner, but when his son came out like… that--”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Flux snarls.

“-- then I wanted to see that he would be able to handle Flux on his own.”

“Yes, not because you wanted to ensure he came out precisely how you wanted when he was young. Of course. It’s always a noble, selfless cause with you.”

“And you raised him well enough that he…” Elanuelo pauses. “Flux, what do you do for a living?”

“Why would I tell you a thing? You don’t care when it’s not ammunition for an argument,” he grimaces.

“Because I don’t have to be your benefactor.” 

Fluixon crosses his arms, and after a moment, “... I don’t have a job.” 

Crow sighs and rubs his forehead. “You’re better than that.”

“Is this a dinner about telling me all of the ways I’ve messed up?” He asks, scoffing. He gets to his feet and steps away. “If so, I’ll be going now.”

An awkward silence hangs over the table as he steps away. He finds a cheap bar far off of the strip and calls an Uber to take him. He zones out as much as he possibly can to separate himself from the conversation and his family. His Uber pulls up to the curb.

Fluixon steps up into a bar and realizes he’s out of his element entirely. He’s never stepped foot into one before, but the only thing he wants is to swarm himself in a room of drunk people that won’t let him hear his own thoughts. In a haze, he moves through the crowd and comes up to the bar, tentatively sitting down at it by himself. He swallows.

Everything off the strip was less of a tourist trap, but that didn’t mean there weren’t still show ponies. Even small places had some form of a trick. Prime example: when Flux looks up, he sees someone lighting an entire stack of shot glasses on fire for patrons. He flinches back and leans away. A small crowd cheers and claps through the chatter. He sees a few dollar bills slide across the bar. Anything for a tip, he supposes. 

It’s so overwhelming, and for once, he’s thankful. The only problem he faces is actually ordering a drink. He doesn’t know the names, or the specifics, and he’s pretty sure he’s walking into some sort of performance dive bar. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt as he looks around like a lost animal. He drops his head to look at his lap.

The bartender turns attention to him at the same time his brain starts to shut down. Two forearms appear resting on the bar before him. He looks up and feels intimidation crawl up his back. He swallows.

“You okay? You look pale,” comes politely from the bartender. Flux tries not to stare too intently, but his eyes keep crossing between hands, jawline, and eyes. There’s two moles on this guy’s face, one seated neatly below each eye. It was like a second set of eyes that burn Flux to the seat. His hair was white, bleached white, and he had a bit of scruff on his chin to match.

Flux’s mouth falls open and he ineloquently tumbles out, “I hate my family and need a drink.”

It earns him a laugh. “Any idea what?”

“I don’t know what to get. I’ve never been… here. Out. Drinking.” Flux shames himself for his honesty, but he’s desperate, and he doesn’t expect to see this person ever again. “Just, erm, something strong…?”

“You’re real cute. Just sit and watch, okay?” The bartender stands up straight again. Flux lifts his head. He doesn’t even register the compliment, because he watches the bartender start to do tricks. He starts juggling three different bottles.

His mind blanks out. This is beyond him. He’s too fried to bother following the tricks and lets himself be impressed. Other people crowd near to watch. He doesn’t even know what drink he’s getting, but it’s flipping through the air and then being poured into a shaker while he watches on. 

The bartender flashes him a grin as it’s poured from the shaker and into a glass. A lime is wedged on the rim and pushed towards him. He glances between the two and tentatively picks it up after a nod. He stares at the glass and fails to notice the bartender step away to busy himself with someone else. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles under his breath. It’ll make him forget about his family if he drinks enough. It hits his mouth in flavors of citrus. Without a second thought, he downs the cup and squeezes his eyes shut. He never drinks. This is just a quick and desperate way to get through this weekend.

On Saturday morning, Fluixon wakes up in the AirBnB with a pounding migraine and a looming sense of dread. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as he’s slowly pulled out of sleep like he’s being pulled from shallow water. He may as well have drowned in his sleep judging by the heavy exhaustion and dull ache in his limbs. He makes a fist in the sheets and groans. 

He feels a hand slide cool across his forehead and he leans into it subconsciously. He nearly purrs and his eyes flutter open. It was still dark and his eyes didn’t sting to focus. He finds a silhouette and--

“Gah!” He yelps, sitting up. He winces and grasps his forehead. 

“Hey, hey, relax, I just got you something to drink.” A glass is set on the bedside table and the weight of the bed shifts. “You threw up a few times, and you’ve probably got a headache ‘cause you’re so hungover.”

Flux hesitates, but he picks the glass up and brings it to his chest. “Aren’t you the bartender from… yesterday evening?”

“Do you remember anything else from that?” He presses, narrowing his eyes.

Flux blanks out and shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Alright, well, I’m Saparata. You can just use Saps, though, everyone does,” Saparata gives him a smile. He holds his left hand up and flashes a ring on his hand. “We’re married now. Your idea, by the way.”

“We’re… married,” Flux repeats slowly.

Saparata nods. He reaches out and grabs Flux’s hand. Sure enough, a similar band is around his finger. He spins it around his finger for a second and then takes a long, slow sip of water. 

“I was getting ready to go back to my place and take a shower. That cool?” Saps asks, standing up. 

Flux puts the glass back on the table and flips his blankets off. He fixes the leg of his shorts- “Just wanted to let you know that we didn’t get to do any honeymoon stuff with how drunk you were.” -and pulls himself to his feet. Saps watches him and offers a hand to help him shuffle around, but Flux swats his hand down and finds his suitcase. He picks it up and fishes a bottle of airport Tylenol out. 

“Can you tell me exactly how and why we’re married, first?” He asks, twisting the lid off and dropping two white pills into his palm. 

Saps shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Where do you want me to start?”

“The wedding, I guess.” Flux picks his water up and downs his pills again.

“Okay, so…”

 . . . 

Saparata fits the ring over his finger. It didn’t really fit nicely, but Flux was rushing him, so he didn’t really care. Flux is snatching the certificate from the window and nodding along to the minister telling him it’s going to be filed and mailed to him later. 

Saps knows he’s too drunk to understand a word. He puts a hand on his shoulder and takes the paper, thanks the minister at the window, and glances in the side mirror as he drives off. Flux examines his hand where he’s slumped forward in the seat.

“Pull over somewhere,” he says, flexing his fingers.

“Don’t you wanna go home? You look like you’re about to pass out, baby,” Saps laughs, glancing over at him. 

“I’m drunk, pull over and let me kiss you. We just got married. I think that means something--”

 . . . 

“I did not say that,” Flux scoffs, crossing his arms. “Go back to before that. I want to know why we got married in the first place.”

“Jeez, you’ve already got the nagging down.” Saps scratches the back of the neck. “Anyway…”

. . . 

“You should watch your drinks, you know?” Saparata asks, pulling his glass away. “Someone could spike this when you’re not looking.”

Flux curls his lip up into an adorable snarl and narrows his eyes. “I’m not that stupid.”

“I could’ve dropped something into your cup at least three times. How about you stop drinking for a little bit and head home?” Saps leans his elbow on the bar. 

Flux pouts and reaches for his glass, but Saps lifts it out of his reach and finishes it off. He whines and grabs at his wrist while Saps laughs. His grip is poor and he’s terribly uncoordinated. 

“I don’t want to go back, because then I have to see my stupid family. Why do you think I’m drinking?” 

“If they piss you off that bad, we can go back to my place,” Saps offers. 

Flux narrows his eyes. “I want to piss them off back.”

“Unless you’re gonna go puke on all of them, then you’re gonna have to sober up to do that.” Saps laces his fingers together and tilts his head.

Fluixon wipes his face and sits up straighter. “I’ll figure something out. There has to be something--”

Someone behind them starts cheering and he looks over his shoulder. Saps leans to look, too. He makes a face and squints. 

“Huh. Looks like someone just proposed. That’s the third time this week.” He reaches up and scratches his chin. He swears that he can see a lightbulb explode over Flux’s head. He hears the chair scoot closer and suddenly, Flux is in his face, clammy hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he starts. “They’ll all be furious if I do that. You and I have to get married to piss off my parents, Saps, it’s brilliant!” 

. . . 

Fluixon reaches up and wipes his forehead. He hisses in pain at his migraine. Saps offers the glass of water to him, but he waves it away.

“So I did all of this to piss everyone off,” he mumbles. “That… sounds right.”

“I think you threw up in your mouth when you had to say your vows.”

“You know what? I’m going to own this.” Flux rolls his shoulders. “I’m going to ruin this vacation for everyone.”

Saparata huffs out a laugh and ruffles his hair. “You’re turning out to be a vindictive little guy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll find plenty more out…” Flux shies away from his hand. “In  fact, we should probably know basic things about each other if this is going to be any good.”

Saps gestures to himself. “Ask me anything.”

Flux looks him over for a second. “Okay, erm, how old are you?”

“Forty-three--”

“Forty-three?” Flux hisses in disbelief. “You- You’re in your forties?!"

Saps snickers and runs a hand through his hair. “I know. I look way younger.”

“You’re twice my age,” Fluixon says carefully. “I’m twenty-one.”

Saps shrugs. “I’ve seen worse gaps. You always see worse in Vegas.” 

Flux blinks in disbelief and lifts a hand up. “Okay, okay, whatever. I can work with it, at least.”

“You can just call me later, you know, we can sort more of these details out later.” Saps crosses his arms. “I’m gonna go home and make something to eat, then take a shower.”

“Get breakfast here,” Flux offers. “More of my family will see you this way, and it’s a nice kitchen.”

“You sure?” Saps asks.

“Why not?” Flux shrugs, leaning for his suitcase. “I’m trying to maximize how many people I can piss off this weekend.”

He starts to dig through his suitcase and pulls clothes out. He grabs a pair of pants and a shirt. He glances over his shoulder. Saps rolls his sleeves up and moves towards the mirror, picking Flux’s brush up and starting to comb through his hair. 

“Do you mind?” Flux chirps. Saps puts the brush down.

He moves away from the mirror and keeps his back turned. “My bad.”

Flux changes as quickly as he can, brushes his hair out, and steps into the hall with Saps in tow. He moves for the stairs and peers into the lounge from above. Saparata comes up beside him and peers down, too. He starts to go down the stairs.

“Flux,” Crow’s voice stops him dead in his tracks. “Who is this?”

He spins on his heel and turns to Crow with a smile. “Dad, this is Saps.” 

“Hi. I’m Saps,” he echoes, moving to Flux’s side. 

“Did you…?” Crow looks between them. Fluixon’s face splits in two with a wicked grin and he reaches for Saparata’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and holds his hand out like a trophy. He gestures towards their rings with his arm.

“I got married,” he croons. “Isn’t he lovely?”

“Did you bring someone back to spite everyone here?” Crow scoffs, eyes narrowing dangerously thin. 

“Yes! I did! You could stand to treat your new son-in-law a bit nicer,” Flux hisses, gesturing to Saps. “Unless you’re no better than anyone else in this family.”

Saparata looks at him for guidance, but he’s too busy watching Crow’s expression turn murderous. His shoulders tighten and he lifts his head up higher, turned up in disgust. Fluixon feels satisfaction wash over him at the look. Revenge feels like a weight lifted from his shoulders. He tightens his grip on Saps’s hand.

“You selfish brat child…” Crow murmurs, shaking his head. “Could you not have just endured this like the rest of us without causing a scene?”

Fluixon shakes his head. “Absolutely not.” 

“You guys seem like you’ve got a lot of issues. I just want breakfast, so if you don’t mind…” Saps tries, letting Flux’s hand slip free. 

Crow sighs dryly. “Welcome to the family, then.” 

“Thanks? I think?” Saps tilts his head.

“I had hoped for better from you, boy,” Crow’s hostility turns back to Fluixon. “Impulsive decisions will bring you nothing but misery. For your own good, end this while it’s still preventable.”

“I think I’m happy as it is now.”

“You’re bringing other people into your grudges against this family.”  

He shrugs and looks at Saps. “Does that bother you?”

Saparata looks between the two, then makes a so-so gesture. “I think I knew what I was getting into after all the stories he told me. Don’t worry.”

Flux sticks his tongue out like a child and moves down the stairs. He comes to Saparata’s side, who moves a hand onto his back. He hears Crow mumble behind them, but Flux leans over to whisper to him. 

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sure you can handle whatever they throw at you. Just be careful, because they will throw things at you,” he says. 

Saparata just furrows his brow and follows him into the kitchen. 

He grabs a box of cereal and pulls the fridge open, leans in, and grabs the milk. He dumps a generous amount of it into a bowl and follows it with milk. Saps comes to his side and drops two pieces of bread into the toaster. He reaches into Flux’s bowl and picks a piece up, pops it into his mouth, and starts digging through drawers.

He pulls a spoon out and slips it into the bowl for Flux while he waits on the toaster. The fridge opens again for Flux.

“Hey, grab me something to drink,” he says. 

“What do you want?”

“Anything’s fine. I’m easy.”

Flux closes the fridge and hands him a bottle of water. “It’s all that was in there.”

“That’s fine.” The toaster springs up and he swipes the bread out. “I think after this--”

“What is your problem?!” Cynikka yells, coming into the kitchen. “You’re making this trip about you!”

Flux’s back straightens and he picks his bowl up as she approaches, fitting it against his chest between his arm and chest. He scoops a spoonful of cereal. His headache spikes but he ignores it beyond a wince. He holds up a finger while he swallows and then waves his spoon at her. “No, I’m making the most of it. Big difference.”

“You’re the most selfish person here!” They hiss.

“First of all, Elanuelo threatened to cut us off if we didn’t show up, and I think I pale in comparison to that. Second, you’re the second person to say that.” 

He hears the sound of a knife scraping something onto toast. Cynikka narrows their eyes and then scoffs, stepping back. Flux takes another bite of cereal calmly. 

“Your family sucks,” Saparata says offhandedly. “No offense.”

“You get used to it,” Flux replies. 

Saps puts the knife in the sink and takes a bite. Cynikka looks between them with her brows cinched together and jaw clenched. She opens her mouth to search for words, then shakes her head and steps back.

“You’re not worth it this early in the morning,” they say. “Get out of the way. I need breakfast.”

Saps moves his hand to Flux’s back again and moves him out of the kitchen. They move towards the windows. Saps offers him a bite of toast, but Flux shakes his head. He stirs his cereal around.

“Am I an asshole?” He asks.

Saps cracks a grin. “Yeah. I think I really like it, too.”

Flux purses his lips and scoops another spoonful up. “Yeah, but now everyone is mad, and I have to be here until Sunday.”

“Not really. I live less than an hour away, you know?” Saps takes another bite. “You can hang out at my place, since, uh, we’re married and shit.”

“Right. Yeah, you’re right. I forgot about that part.” Flux shovels cereal into his mouth while Saps laughs at him.

“You seriously gotta watch your drinking, then. You’re lightweight.” 

“I just don’t see the point. I don’t like it.”

“It’s my job to look after people who do. I have tomorrow and Wednesday off, by the way. I work from four to ten.” 

“I’m going back home on Monday.”

“Are you gonna come back after?” Saps asks, elbowing him. 

Flux chews the inside of his bottom lip. “Maybe.”

He pushes a few soggy, floating pieces of cereal around in his bowl and lets a sigh out through his nose. Saps watches him for a second. He reaches up and flicks the end of his arm that’s keeping the bowl to his chest. 

“Your other arm is in my backseat.”

“Do I have to barter for it back?”

“What? No, it’s yours, dude,” Saps scrunches his nose. “Have you seriously had to do that before?”

“A few times. Mainly from Ender. I don’t wanna talk about it.” Flux grimaces as he takes another bite of cereal. 

Saparata hits him on the shoulder and steps back. “I’m gonna go get that for you. Stay here.”

He walks away and Flux looks at his cereal for a moment, before he sighs and moves it to his hand. He takes it to the sink and rinses it out, then leaves it. Someone else can wash those. He can’t be bothered. He reaches up and fingercombs his hair. 

Cynikka and Turkey are standing in the kitchen together, and he can hear muffled things from his sister. He sits down in the lounge and leans into a seat. He spins the fresh band on his finger with disinterest. The light reflects off of it and burns a dark green spot into his eyes. 

He ignores them walking by him and the strange stares he gets. Turkey hovers for a second, but he sends a glare that makes him move along. He hasn’t seen Elanuelo yet, and Ender has been outside on the phone as long as he’s been awake. He’s made his statement and now he’s done. 

Turkey puts the TV on and kicks his feet up. Flux pulls his phone out and looks through the damage from yesterday. His gallery has a few new photos, mostly motion blurs of light, but there’s one of him holding their certificate while flipping the camera off. He looked beyond wasted. It explained why his still-throbbing headache was so bad. 

There’s a new number in his phone that he can only assume is Saparata’s. The only message is a series of emojis. He names the contact and puts his phone on his chest in favor of slinging an arm over his eyes. 

It lasts no longer than thirty seconds before his prosthetic is dropped on his chest. He looks up at Saps and moves it to the side. Saps leans over the back of the couch and scratches his chin scruff. 

“I just had the weirdest conversation with your dad. He, like, asked me how I did it? And if I can help him talk to… your other dad?” He says, face curling.

Fluixon pinches his lips like he ate something horrifically sour. He cringes. “Did my dad ask you for advice on how to reconcile with Crow?”

Saps shrugs. “Pretty much.” 

“That’s disgusting…” Flux mumbles, dread wrapping around the base of his spine. He shakes it away and lifts a finger up to point at him. “Don’t tell him anything.” 

Saps laughs through his nose and leans down further. “I’m gonna go home now, okay? Call me if you need anything.” 

“Can I come with you?” He sits up, still wincing at the pain in the back of his head. Saps leans back.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t see why not. I can show you around my place.” He takes a step back from the couch. 

Flux looks over his shoulder at Cynikka, who glares at him as he starts to fit his prosthetic over the end of his arm. Saps watches with a little interest. He pulls his sleeve up as adjusts the socket.

“Did I tell you about this yesterday?” He asks.

“I mean, I noticed it, but I didn’t ask. Kinda felt rude.”

“I’ll tell you in the car.” He gets to his feet and moves to his shoes at the door. He pauses and looks at Turkey. “Tell Elanuelo that I’m going out.” 

Turkey shoots him a thumbs up. “Have fun, buddy.”

Saparata walks him to his car. He digs the keys out of his pocket and unlocks it. Flux slides into the passenger seat and finds their marriage certificate stuffed between the sun visor and the ceiling. He pulls it out and skims over it.

“That last guy was really nice,” Saps comments, starting his car up.

“He’s the homewrecker that Crow hates.” 

“Makes sense. He seemed like an in-law.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” Flux folds the paper again and puts it in the glove box. Saps starts to reverse as Flux takes his phone out. He rolls the window down.

They’re almost out of the driveway when Elanuelo walks behind the car and stops. Saps curses and brakes. Elanuelo moves to the window and puts his hand on the door, then leans down to Saparata’s level. 

“You’re coming back this evening,” he says. “Both of you. I’m going golfing with Crow and Turkey while the kids sightsee. Six-thirty, no later.” 

Flux blinks. “Are you trying to get back together with Crow?”

“If you can try to ruin the vacation, then I can do it tenfold.” Elanuelo narrows his eyes. 

Saps lifts his hands in surrender. “Where’s dinner? I gotta dress right for the in-laws.” 

There’s a quiet moment where Elanuelo studies him. He doesn’t falter. Fluixon waits for either one of them to speak. Neither of them budge. He groans after thirty seconds (that he counted in his head impatiently) of silence. 

“He’ll dress nice. Are we done here?” 

Saps puts a hand on his arm, and with a sideways glance, says, “Be patient. The adults are talking.” 

Flux blinks and tries not to think about the flush he feels superheat his ears. Elanuelo straightens. Saps gets an impressed look from him. He pats the car and takes a step back.

“I like this one, Flux,” he says, then turns.

Elanuelo walks away while Flux gawks in disbelief. His jaw feels like it could fall off of his skull if he gapes any harder. Elanuelo disappears into the garage. Saparata rolls the window up. He starts to mess with the music and turns the volume down. He doesn’t seem mildly phased. 

“Did he just--”

“Guess we didn’t piss everyone off,” Saps shrugs. 

“My father likes you and he doesn’t even like me.” Flux says, slowly and clearly. 

“Yeah, but the other one fucking hates me. I made eye contact earlier?” Saparata shudders. “I think he’s planning to poison me tonight.”

Fluixon reaches up and massages his forehead. He leans back in his seat and then throws them up in exasperation. “He might. I don’t know. I don’t know how Elanuelo likes you.”

“Hey, if you like my house, you think you’d move in?” 

“How do I know you’re not actually a bad person?”

“A bit late to think about that now, huh?” Saps glances over with a grin. “If I was gonna do anything, I would’ve done it when you were running away from your family and blackout drunk.”

“You sound like you’ve planned that out,” Flux says cautiously. 

“I hear about things. You've gotta watch out for the kinds of people who would do that as a bartender. Plus…” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of 5$ and 10$ bills, then tosses it into Flux’s lap. “I make good money.”

Flux looks at it for a moment, mentally counts it out to be 70$, and then picks them up. He wads them back up and drops it into the empty cupholder. Saps watches from the corner of his eye.

“What the hell, sure,” Flux shrugs. “We’re already married.”

Saparata grins and lets out a childish laugh. “Sweet. Anyway, your dad isn’t gonna actually poison me, right?”

Fluixon doesn’t reply, instead choosing to examine his nails. There’s a short pause. Saps laughs again, nervous. 

He looks over at Flux, and then weaker, he repeats, “Right?”