What if you were unraveling the conspiracy behind your neighbors' (Tf 141) relationship with each other and their wives?
A/N: this is takin inspo from The Two Hot Takes Podcast on reading the story of "AITAH for hating my wife's creepy 'hobby project'?" and @beloveds-embrace work on Lavender Marriage AU (<33 nomming it sm recently)
So, hear me out before the brain worms consume my brain and leave with me nothing to work with in the future--
You just moved in to this suburban neighborhood, and its quite typical with its similar lookin' houses and white picket fences. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for your neighbors who were ex-military and were quite friendly the first day you came.
So much so that it made your 'tsismis' senses work overdrive as you found yourself gazing out your window one night, coffee in hand, as you sat by your window sill-- staring at your left neighbors living room window where Kyle's hand was creeping too lowly around Johnny's waist to be considered a "bro hug."
From then on, the longer you stayed, the stronger your antennas became to those tiny little moments you happened to catch glimpses of.
As their new and quiet neighbor, you often accepted their invitations, wanting to learn more about them (and the underlying secrets behind their relationship.)
All of four of them and their partners looked a little too painted perfectly, with the men retired whereas the women were still working part time-- often out on some long business trips you often heard about them converse about at barbecues. These trips were such a common occurrence that it was normal for the other guys to host meals at one of each other's houses, sometimes rotating for each other's turn or eating out together.
When those days happen, the lights in one of their rooms often stayed on all night.
'Maybe they're just doing men stuff in their designated man caves in their houses,' you thought to yourself, sipping a margarita John made in expertise with some bar flair.
It was another brunch without the other ladies in sight and from the amount of times you've hung out without, you start to see them getting loose-- getting careless.
More brave with the sneaky touches you see them share quickly as you pass the kitchen or the patio.
You note that Kyle likes wrapping his arm around the others often, and you swear you could see his forearm flex as he reached to grip something from that person's behind. Johnny is more physical, playfully fighting and creating this palpable tension that permeates the room before John dissipates it every time. Speaking of him, you think he's more of an 'acts of service' type of guy from the way the others would give these hooded looks whenever he does something small but caring for them. Simon-- oh he was a tough nut to crack from the way his lower face was covered by this mask that you only got moments of seeing during meals or sharing a drink, but you swear if you could see his mouth, you would know why Johnny's ears turned red when Simon whispered something in his ear or when he surprised Kyle from behind with his hands deep into his pockets, mask moving (indicating he was saying something but you couldn't make it out from your own living room window) as he talks to a semi-trembling Kyle on the grassy lawn.
All of these pieces you've picked up on and strewn it all about on a board you bought from a crafts store. With points leading to your written logs, photos, drawings, and papers tied to their background.
The photos- albeit hastily taken and quite blurry- and other evidences you've managed to scrounge together weren't incriminating enough (yet), you try various means to get closer to them. Even though they may or may not have misinterpreted this intention.
Despite all the effort you're putting into your "passion project"-- all you wanted to do was to answer the singular point with a hastily scribbled question mark.
'Were they all fucking each other behind their wives back?'
Oh, you couldn't wait to play detective and piece together the mystery.
