Title: Domestic househusband
Pairing: Hope and Lightning
Rating: T (nothing much, I just like to make my stories rated T)
Summary: Domestic househusband Hope Estheim always liked Fridays. And he guessed that he always will.
Side Note: Yeah, I get it. Hope's freaking adorable in the game as his 14 year old self. But I'd rather write something about him older. 'Cause, as you all know, he'd probably be freakin' hot. And you know, add a cute apron to that. Damn, that's cool.
Domestic Househusband
A typical day starts off at eight in the morning. Not too early, not too late. Hope Estheim gets out out his bed and lightly scratches the itch under his pajamas. He creeps towards his window and opens them up, allowing the bright sun of the world to shine in. He tidies his hair a bit, hoping that it doesn't look too messy. As he walks out of the room, he realizes that today is Friday.
Friday are good for the average househusband, as the working wife is always happy on Fridays. Hope saunters into the room of Lightning (also known as the working wife). She's lying on her bed, clutching onto her pillow. It is also the job of the househusband to admire the beauty of his working wife. Hope playfully twirls her light, flowing, pink hair as she blinks her eyes slowly at the sound of his chuckle.
"Morning," it is vital that the househusband sounds friendly; the working wife likes to hear a pleasing tune on Friday mornings.
"Mmm-" Lightning turns over on her bed, as if she was ignoring Hope's greeting to get more sleep.
"It's eight already. Come on-" At Hope's words, the working wife slowly gets out of her bed. She turns around to open her window, just as her domestic man did. Lightning realizes how nice the morning sun is as she combs her flowing hair. The couple walks into the kitchen. However, it is the working husband who actually walks to the cooking utentials. The working wife sits at the table trying to combat her tiredness as she reads the newspaper.
Around this time, a call might come from your in-laws. Usually your wife's sister's currently unemployed husband. As Lightning picks up the phone, she talks in her usual monotone, indifferent voice, "Hello, who is this?"
"Hey! Sis! Serah and I were wonderi-"
The soldier hung up before she hears anymore of the nonsense. Of course, your in-law brother is not so scared of the wrath of a certain pink-haired soldier. The phone rings again. Lightning scowls. She realizes that when it comes to phone fights, Snow is always the winner.
"Yes. Hello. Make it quick."
"So- Sis! How about dinner, tonight? Our place! We might call some others. Bring Hope as well." As soon as he got his message across, she hangs up. Hope laughs at this scene.
"You really hate him, don't you?" The domestic househusband asks as he cooks his wife's breakfast.
"I think you already know the answer. Nice apron. New?" At Lightning's somewhat considerate comment, Hope brightens up.
"Yep! I bought it yesterday while you were at lunch! Isn't it nice?"
"It's okay." She replies nonchalantly. He merely grins. Her compliments always had a strange way of making him the happiest person on Earth.
When he was about sixteen, she told him that she liked his smile. Since that day, Hope secretly practises his grins in front of the mirror. When he was about seventeen, Hope told her that he saves his smiles for her, and her only. She merely gave a silent nod. When he was eighteen, she told him to save his flawless smiles for her. He told her that he always has.
Now, he's twenty-two and a half.
"Here." He hands her a plate of a nicely cooked sandwich. She could never cook like this. Cooking as always been Hope's chore. Cleaning is Lightning's. Washing the dishes, they do together. As she takes a bite, she gives a faint grin, which he surely expects no one else in the whole area of Cocoon and Pulse combined knows.
He's twenty-two and a half. Still going to school. When he started living with Lightning, her one condition was that he'd bring enough income to cover for himself. He promised her that not only will he bring enough income for himself, but for Lightning as well. But of course, this condition has yet to be fulfilled. Lightning was after all, the working wife. But nevertheless, he was sure she loved him a lot. Because she still hasn't kicked him out.
"You free this lunch?" Lightning asks Hope as he gets out of the car, "I've got a break today. I'll buy you lunch." His face brightens up immediately with visible glee. She chuckles slightly and pats his head lovingly, "I'll take that as a yes."
Hope nods. Despite his twenty-two and a half appearances, he's still Hope. He's taller now, in fact, slightly taller than Lightning. He's still a pretty feminine looking guy, but his eyes have grown stronger. His shoulders are broader than ever before, and he would be considered a likable, attractive man in today society's standards.
But he's still Hope. Lightning waved to him carefully, making sure nobody sees her. She's so self-conscious, worrying about what Hope's peers would say if they found about his twenty-nine working lover. He always told he never minded, that he was proud of her. That she was his greatest pride. Lightning nevertheless, was worried and gave an excuse that she didn't want to look like a woman who glopped on younger boys.
"Bye," Hope whispers as he give Lightning a little peck on her cheek. Lightning grumbled, slowly rubbing the area Hope left his little kiss on.
"Stay safe." Lightning replied back as she leaves to go to work.
Rumors circulated around the school about Hope's older girlfriend. Some said she used to be a student at the school, and met Hope during his first year. Others talked about a woman in her late 30s. Hope denied all the fake rumors, and was very honest when it came to answers.
"She's twenty-nine."
"Twenty-nine? Man, isn't that like seven years older than you?"
"Yeah, but I don't mind."
"Twenty-nine's almost thirty! Doesn't she look old or something?"
"No!" Hope yelled at his friend's clueless question. Lightning was beautiful, and always be beautiful no matter what her age. "She's beautiful! She doesn't look like twenty-nine at all. She actually looks around our age. Just... a lot more mature." His friend chuckled, obviously Hope was quite smitten with his older lover.
"What does she do? She works, right?"
"She works with the army." Hope proudly declared, "Sergent Lightning of the Guardian Corps."
"The Sergent Lightning?" she was a well-known figure within the army, "Man, she's...isn't she like the scariest sergent there? One of my relatives just joined the army and he's like...chickened out because of her. Says that her drills are every soldier man's nightmare."
Hope chuckled, "Well, that's my Lightning." The friend raised his eyebrow. My friend, should I be happy for you, or worried for you?
"...Is she pretty? I've heard of her from people in the army and in newspapers...but I've never actually seen her."
"She's beautiful," the silver-haired boy sounded serious, dead serious, when he said those words, "I'd better keep her away from you." As soon as he finished those words, a certain pink haired woman walked towards the two students. Her pink hair shined brilliantly in the light, softly and gently. Her eyes from firm, her lips closed shut.
Yet, she was beautiful, just as Hope described.
"Light-" Hope jumped up as soon as she approached, "You're here early?"
"Boss let me off early today," she glanced over to Hope's friend, "Your friend? Is he coming with us?"
"You coming with us?" At Hope's question, the friend shook his head immensely, "'Kay. Let's go, Light."
The next day, rumors circulated about Hope's older, beautiful girlfriend.
Serah and Snow's dinner invitation wasn't as hopeless as Lightning hypothesized it to be. It was the same as every other dinner invitation Serah gave them. Lightning would come and sit on the sofa. Snow would come up to her and declare that he found a new job. The woman would retort back sharply that he wasn't going to last a week. And sadly, most of the time, Lightning was correct. Snow would end up unemployed the next week. Lightning would then go on to lecture Snow about the responsibilities he has, and that he shouldn't let Serah down all the time.
"You need to bring an income. Would you want poor Serah to end up starving?"
"But, sis!" she scowled at his friendly use of words, "Although I don't have a permanent job, I still make enough to get us food!"
"Food only. Who pays for the rest?"
"...You, I guess." Snow rubbed his temples slowly, realizing when it came to word combat, Lightning was just as fierce as she is on the battle field. Lightning sighed. Snow just wasn't suit for working. She should have never agreed to this marriage.
In the kitchen, Hope helped out with the food. Serah always complimented him about his cooking skills, and how refined they were.
"Thanks. Light can't cook, so I gotta help out." the younger sister giggled at his words. The older Farron was never good with making actual edible food other than for survival.
"I'm so thankful that you're with Claire all the time," Serah gave a sincere smile as she pulled out a few plated, "I was so worried what might happen to Claire if I have to leave. She's a strong person, but if there was nobody to be strong for, I was afraid she might break down." Hope grinned as he placed the plates on the dinning table. "She's staying strong for you Hope. I hope you stay strong for her as well. Oh, no pun intended there."
The silver-haired boy chuckled, "I get it. Snow- Light! Dinner!"
They arrived back at home at about nine. Lightning flopped on the sofa, realizing that it would soon be Saturday, also meaning she's be able to get a break. The househusband chuckled as he watched his working wife snuggle on the sofa.
"Hey, Light."
"Mm, yeah?" She whispered softly. Man, I really needed to get more sleep these days. It was only nine and already she was feeling drowsy.
"You know that I love you, right?" But at Hope's words, her eyes widened up like the stars outside. She stood up from the couch, as she felt that this wasn't just one of Hope's cute little affection signs. He was being dead serious.
"I know that." Lightning smiled softly.
"You know what day it is tomorrow?"
"It's...a Saturday?"
"Well, yeah. But-" Hope grinned widely, "It's been three years since I moved in here."
"Exactly?"
"Exactly." He sat next to Lightning. "You remember that time when I was sixteen? When you told me you liked my smile? And that time when I was seventeen? When I sort of told you about my crush on you? And that time I told you I save my smiles just for you?"
"I remember them all."
"And then when I became eighteen, you told me that I should save my smiles for you."
"...Don't remind me of that." Lightning turned her face to the opposite direction, trying to hide her slight embarrassment at past events.
"And then I became nineteen, I confessed my love for you."
"I remember."
"And then I moved into your house, right after Serah left to live with Snow."
"I remember that too."
"And then we had our first kiss when just before I turned twenty. Then I turned twenty-one. Then I turned twenty-two. And now I'm twenty-two and a half."
Lightning glanced into Hope's eyes. Staring at them intensely, with the confidence and strength she always carried around. But the boy knew better than anyone, she needed somebody. She needed somebody to wake her up in the mornings. Somebody to make her breakfast. To have lunch with her. To go meet family and friends. To remind her that she was loved, loved so much.
That somebody has always been him. He didn't want that to change.
"I'm a few months, I'll be twenty-three. Then I'll graduate from school, and get a job. And I'll officially be a working man. I'll make my own income and pay for my own food and clothes. If that time comes Light...If that time comes-"
He coughed nervously.
"Will you marry me?"
Hope was still the domestic husband. Most of the chores were still his, including cooking. But Light did the cleaning, and they did the dishes together. He'd still wake her up on Friday mornings. But ultimately, he liked being Light's domestic househusband.
He liked it a lot.
FIN
For a while, I've had some great ideas for oneshot fanfics, but never was able to sufficiently get them out as 'writing'. Also known as 'writer's block'. This is the only story that I ever even got to finishing (the rest, I stopped after a while, since I got frustrated with them), and well, I sort of like the outcome. It faired a lot better than the other oneshots I attempted to work out, and I hope I get another of my oneshot ideas to be written like this. SCREW WRITER'S BLOCK! HAIL HOPE AND LIGHTNING!
PS. Edited this on Feb. 7th. I just fixed a few spelling and grammatical errors that were bothering me.