An Apple a Day
Name: An Apple a Day... (Or "Zzzzip THUD." Whichever one you like best.)
Characters: Rhys Fitzhugh and Archie Vetinari
Rating: PG-13 (Surprisingly) You know what? We'll go with R because of language.
Summary: Archie reminds Rhys of an unpleasant fact every chance he gets.
Word Count: 1004
Not that he wanted anyone to know this, but Rhys honestly didn't mind taking care of all the domestic duties. He actually liked cooking, and was very good at it. He most certainly loved cleaning, and he was extremely good at that. Heck, even the grocery shopping was on the list of things he enjoyed. Granted it wasn't sex (which he most certainly, beyond all doubt was awesomely awesome at) or anything like that, but still, it was probably on the list of top twenty things he liked to do. Well, maybe the list of top thirty things. He'd actually have to make a physical list or something like that to see.
Life was good for Rhys. He had two awesome kids (twins because, you know, 'Fitzhugh Virility'), a hot wife, and a mother-in-law who was dead, dead, dead as a doornail. Dancing on Mary Devereaux's grave was definitely on the list of things he loved doing. Quite possibly in the top ten. The best part about that was that he didn't have to take the high road anymore. The high road sucked, especially when he was right about something (which was, like, all the time, but that was beside the point).
He began to whistle cheerfully as these thoughts went through his mind. Awesome kids. Hot wife. Mind blowing sex with said hot wife. Dead mother-in-law, can't forget about that! Unfortunately the whistle died almost as soon as it sounded when he entered the produce section of the grocery store.
Archie Vetinari was there, leaning against the potato bin. His arms were crossed and he was smirking at Rhys.
Rhys didn't bother to hide his disdain for the other man. He rolled his eyes and made a disgusted, "Uck" sound before shaking his head and walking past him. Archie either didn't get the hint or, more likely, he chose to ignore it.
"Heya, Rhys. How's it hangin'?"
"Long and strong. Thanks for asking," he couldn't help but reply smugly.
"Well that's good. I'm low and heavy myself, just in case you were wondering."
"Yeah, no, I really wasn't, sorry. Wait, no. I'm not sorry. Go away Archie. I'm busy."
"'Busy.' What a fine choice of words there. Funny how you should mention the word 'busy,' wouldn't you say?" the brown haired man asked in an incredibly exaggerated, articulate tone.
Rhys rolled his eyes so hard that they crossed for a moment. He knew where this was going. It always went there. Always, always, always! In fact, he couldn't remember a conversation with Archie, in this 'verse at least, where it didn't go there.
He never had to deal with Gage Uglacy because Gage had moved out of town. Achilles Goodytwoshoes was something, somewhat, kind of, sort of a friend, especially since he was Eden's stylist. Stanley Legacy... well at least Stanley was 'gentlemanly' enough never to mention it. But Archie. Fucking Archie Vetinari...
"So how is that pretty little wife of yours?"
Fucking Archie always, every single chance he got, always had to remind Rhys that he had been with Eden first. He gloated over it. He loved rubbing it in. It had to break some sort of Romance Sim code somewhere. Who does such a thing?
"What was her name again? I'm remembering long black hair and pretty, full red lips. Gosh. Her name totally escapes me. What's her name?" Archie snapped his fingers as if he were trying to jog his memory.
Rhys decided to ignore Archie and he walked towards the fruit section. He was incredibly irritated to realize that Archie had followed him with that.. that fucking smirk. It was quite intolerable.
As he was looking at the apples, picking them up, testing their firmness and looking for bruises, Archie picked up two apples of his own and fondled them in a fairly obscene manner. "That pretty little wife of yours. Eden is her name, right? I've been with so many women it's hard to keep track sometimes. But, oh yeah, that's right. I remember this." He held up the apples and grinned widely. "Her breasts are like nice, firm apples. Yeah, I totally remember that. Quite tasty, wouldn't you agree?" He tossed one of the apples to Rhys, who caught it with his left hand. Rhys hefted the piece of fruit in his hand and examined it. Archie was right, not that he was going to ever let him know it.
He took a deep breath and gave the other man a bland look. "I don't have a 'pretty wife,'" he said. When Archie raised his eyebrow, Rhys smirked. "I have a fucking hot wife," he clarified. "Because whatever happened with you, well I'm the one who got to marry her." It was so very tempting to add, "So there," but he refrained. That would have been incredibly immature.
Archie let out a snort. "Pfffft. You make it sound like that's a good thing! Holy shit. What kind of fucking Romance Sim are you?"
"One who gets to bang a hot movie star at least once a day, thank you very much," Rhys retorted. "Me. Not you. In fact she doesn't ever mention you at all. Funny that. I must have knocked the memory of you clean out of her mind." He took a bite of the apple he was holding and then tossed it back to Archie. "Because let me tell you, it's my name that she screams daily until her voice is hoarse. Mine. Not yours. And it will never be yours ever again." Realizing that he had totally scored a point, Rhys gave the other man a wide grin and walked away from him.
After a couple of steps he stopped. He just couldn't resist the temptation anymore. "So there," he tossed over his shoulder. Yeah, it was extremely immature, but it felt so good to say it. Hey. At least he didn't stick his tongue out after saying it because he was Rhys Fucking Fitzhugh and he knew how to take the high road.
~*~*~