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Fucking Kylo Ren is an exercise in patience. In restraint. In sore, tired fingers, Hux is discovering. He pours more lube onto his fingers, letting the excess drip down onto Ren's back. Ren shivers, and Hux rakes the nails of his other hand across the small of his back.

"Shh," he whispers, although Ren hasn't said anything. He pushes three fingers into Ren with no further warning, and Ren lets out a choked-off gasp. The noise is worth the cramp that Hux fights to ignore as he crooks his fingers, pressing against Ren's prostate. Ren pushes back on his hand, and Hux tsks at him. The hand on the small of Ren's back presses down firmly, and Ren quiets.

He's been on his hands and knees for fifteen minutes, by Hux's estimate. His knees must be aching; Ren's bed is softer than the floor, but not, in Hux's opinion, by much.

Ren has been on his hands and knees for fifteen minutes and Hux has had fingers up his ass for most of them. He presses against Ren's prostate again, and Ren starts to whimper, cuts himself off. Hux slides his fingers out slowly, presses them back in even more slowly. He pauses, lets Ren relax, then begins to fuck him in earnest. Ren can't hold back the whimper this time.

Hux shifts so that he's straddling Ren's legs. He's got better leverage this way, and he presses his fingers in harder and faster.

"More," Ren gasps out. Hux slows.

He's fully clothed aside from his gloves, which are folded neatly next to Ren's head on the pillow, and his cock is starting to ache, restrained inside the stiff uniform fabric of his pants. It's probably nothing on Ren, who's so hard that Hux can feel it. He hopes that Ren isn't projecting his arousal to the entire ship.

"More," Ren says again. Begs. Hux says nothing, just keeps up the slow, steady movement of his fingers, barely glancing over Ren's prostate every so often. He knows what Ren wants: a faster pace, another finger. Hux's nails raking down his back again. Hux's cock, maybe, ramming into him. He wants rough, brutal. Hux moves slowly, and Ren lets out a pitiful noise.

"Control yourself," Hux snaps. They're the first real words he's spoken in at least ten minutes, and his voice comes out a little scratchy. Still, it's firm enough for Ren, who shivers once and then stills. Hux draws his hand all the way out and presses the tips of his fingers against Ren's hole. He waits. Ren doesn't move. He reaches up and pinches Ren's shoulder. Ren doesn't move.

"Good," Hux breathes, and shoves his fingers back in. Ren presses his face into the pillow, but is otherwise motionless. "Good," Hux says again, and pulls his fingers out again. He slaps Ren's ass, and Ren gasps into the pillow.

"I said, control yourself," Hux says harshly. He watches Ren's ass turn pink in the shape of his hand. He slaps him again, then rakes his nails across the tender flesh. Ren doesn't make a sound. Hux is almost certain he's biting the pillow. He trails his fingers softly over the lines his nails had left.

He reaches down to adjust himself in his pants, and almost whimpers himself at the sudden pressure on his cock. He bites his lip, then settles in again. He pulls apart Ren's ass cheeks, more to tease him than anything, but there's something mesmerizing about the sight of his hole, red and sore-looking and sticky with lube.

Ren trembles, just slightly. He doesn't say anything; neither does Hux, just holds him open, exposed to the cool air of Ren's chambers.

After a minute, Hux lets go. Ren makes a sound that might be a sob, muffled by the pillow. His ass pushes back into the air, just slightly. Hux huffs out a laugh under his breath.

"You're so greedy for it," he says. It's a touch awkward: he's never been one for dirty talk. Then, he's never been one for any of this; most of the sex he's had has been quick, often furtive, always to the point. The point of sex, Hux has always thought, is to get off and be done with it. But to have Ren at his mercy … that, that's worth dragging out.

"So greedy," he says again. "Filthy. Whorish," he spits. "Look at you. The only reason you're not begging for it is that I've told you not to. And you try so, so hard to follow orders, don't you?" It would be praise, if not for the disdainful way he says it.

His pushes a finger back into Ren, quickly, harshly. Ren jerks, but stays silent. "Good," Hux murmurs. He presses against Ren's prostate, and Ren twitches again. Hux strokes his finger across the gland a few times, then pulls out again.

"Do you —" he clears his throat. "Do you want me? Do you want my cock?"

A moment passes. Ren doesn't move.

"You can answer," Hux says.

Ren turns his head to look at Hux over his shoulder. His eyes are red, his face flushed. His lower lip is redder than usual, almost bruised-looking; he's nearly bitten through it. He doesn't say anything.

"Well?"

Ren takes a deep, shuddery breath. He breathes out slowly. His blinks a few times, his lashes fanning against his cheeks. "No," he says after a moment.

Hux snorts, an undignified sound. "No," he echoes, mockingly. "Do you want me to leave, then?"

Ren shakes his head. His hair falls into his face, covering it. He stays silent, but the room is practically humming with his arousal.

Hux has never met anyone more frustrating in his life, and he deals in bureaucracy.

"Sit up," he says, and Ren does, falling back on his heels. His back is still to Hux, his head still bowed. Hux moves behind him and wraps an arm around his chest, pulling Ren flush against him. He drags his other hand across Ren's stomach, just barely avoiding his cock. It's full and flushed and leaking, and Hux is nearly certain that if he so much as breathed on it Ren would come immediately.

He's hard against Ren's back, and he knows Ren can feel it.

"What are you good for," he drawls out, "if not to be fucked?"

Ren trembles in his grasp.

"You're pitiful," Hux says. "You have no control. You have no … no sense." He presses low on Ren's belly, just above his cock. Ren lets out a breath that's almost a moan.

He sags when Hux lets go of him, then straightens up again, squaring his shoulders. Hux shuffles awkwardly backward, glad Ren can't see him, then gets off the bed, standing up. He unbuckles his belt, pushes his trousers and his underwear down just far enough to get his cock out. He wraps a hand around it and strokes himself once, but he's too far gone to tease himself.

"Turn around," he says.

Ren must have heard him the rustling of fabric, but he looks almost shocked when he finishes his own awkward shuffle to turn around. His eyes are so wide. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back off of his face, and Hux thinks about wrapping his hands in it, pulling on it, fucking Ren's mouth.

He thinks, briefly, about kissing him. He thinks better of it.

"Stay still," he says. Ren sits back on his heels and settles his hands on his knees. If Hux looks closely, he can see the part of Ren that's forceful and angry and a little bit frightening, the part of him that lashes out with uncontrolled power. He sees all that power controlled, controlled by Hux's words. Hux reaches out to cup his chin.

Ren's lashes lower, eyes averted.

"Look at me," Hux spits out, and Ren does. "Good," Hux says, gentle again. "Good."

He lets go of Ren's face, pulls his hand back just far enough to slap him, open handed, across the cheek. Ren reels back, but he recovers, looks up at Hux with eyes more docile than defiant.

Hux straightens up and wraps a hand around himself again. He reaches out with his other hand and tangles his fingers in Ren's hair after all, tugging him forward. He drags the head of his cock across Ren's lips. Ren is still looking up at him, his gaze nearly overwhelming in its intensity, and Hux flinches away from the eye contact.

He lets go of Ren's hair but Ren doesn't move back, stays leaning forward with his lips pressed to Hux's cock in a mockery of a kiss. It falls to Hux to take a step back. "Good," he says again, but he can hear the slightest quiver in his voice.

Hux slides his hand back down his cock and squeezes himself at the base, just hard enough to really feel it, to bring him back to himself.

He takes a deep breath. He forces himself to look Ren in the eyes. His hand moves slowly, steadily, up and down his cock at a pace almost slow enough to frustrate.

Ren drops his eyes, and Hux can see him watching his hand, instead, watching Hux's fingers as he jerks himself off.

It doesn't take long, not with Ren's eyes on him. His strokes speed up, just slightly, and then he's coming, long pulses across Ren's lips, his cheek, his eyelids.

Ren keeps his eyes closed, but his breathing has quickened, his jaw dropped slightly. He looks debauched. He looks, Hux has to admit, beautiful like this: his long eyelashes, his hair loose around his shoulders, his flushed cock twitching against his stomach.

Slowly, Ren's eyes blink open.

When they make eye contact this time there's no hint of submissiveness; Ren's pupils are blown, eyes dark and defiant.

Hux clears his throat.

"Do you want me to touch you?" he asks, a hint of mockery to his tone. "Do you want to get off?"

"Yes," Ren growls. He sounds himself again: barely constrained anger leaking from lips striped with Hux's come.

Hux hums thoughtfully as he tucks himself back into his pants, fastens himself up again. He doesn't say anything as he leans over Ren to pick up his gloves; he doesn't say anything as he pulls them on, slowly, one after the other. He doesn't say anything as he walks out of the room.

"Hux!" Ren calls after him, furious.

Hux stops, looks back over his shoulder. "Frustration," he says, and smiles, "is the path to the Dark Side."

He lets himself out.