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Taking Advantage

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Hux shoves his hands into the pockets of his beat-up leather jacket and tries not to stand up too straight or strut too much as he approaches a hideous alien greeter on his way into the club. He nods at the individual, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him, continuing down the passageway at a reasonably casual pace. So far, so good.

He’s on a mission, though he wouldn’t have to be if it wasn’t for Ren getting himself in trouble again, that idiot. He descends a set of stairs, and the temperature drops to a slightly more bearable stifle. There’s sand everywhere on this godsforsaken shithole of a planet, Hux thinks with a curl of his lip as he rounds a corner; it’s tracked in from outside, coating the floor and his skin and his hair and—

And then he stops and stares, because there’s Ren, lined up with two other young men: those are definitely his broad shoulders and his ridiculous shiny long hair, but his head is uncharacteristically bowed, and he is wearing, well, entirely less than Hux has ever seen him in. But it’s not Ren’s sweat-slick chest, or the long bare leg sliding out of the slit of that black loincloth that Hux is staring at (mostly not, anyway) — it’s the golden chain wrapped around his long throat and binding his arms behind his back.

Well, shit, Hux thinks dumbly. When he’d gotten the brief that he’d have to extract his unfortunate counterpart from a bar on Tatooine, the last thing he’d expected to find was that Ren had somehow managed to get himself enslaved by a Hutt. Sex slavery, too, by the look of it.

Ren hasn’t noticed him yet, but neither have the Hutt’s agents, probably. Hux palms the blaster at his hip, mentally accounting for patrons. He’d come with the weapon, and a hefty sum of credits in case Ren had needed to be bribed out of whatever he’d gotten himself into. They’re both under cover— it was important that their task not be linked to the First Order, and unfortunately that task had required Ren’s… unique abilities. Hux knows he can’t just open fire; there are too many witnesses and almost certainly too many concealed blasters for that to be a good idea. Ren could use the Force, maybe, but… No. That won’t do. I need a new plan. He glances back over at Ren just as the man shifts on his feet, the dark cloth sliding another few inches off his thigh. Screw it, I need a drink. Hux sets his jaw and tries to look nonchalant as he walks up to the bar.

“Corellian Reserve, neat,” he orders, trying to soften his highborn accent. The bartender is a slim Twi’lek girl, probably attractive, if Hux were into that sort of thing. She quirks her brow at him. He stares back at her, expectantly, and a little annoyed.

“We don’t have that fancy stuff here,” she drawls eventually, rolling her eyes and jerking her head toward the display. “You want a shot of Zadarian?”

“Fine,” he sighs, eyes flicking back to his counterpart. Ren’s still looking at his feet, though he’s clearly restless, shifting his weight constantly. A bead of sweat drips off his chin. Hux grits his teeth. “Are those men... for sale?”

The Twi’lek drops a glass in front of him, one-third filled with a golden-brown liquid. “They’re Durga’s newest boys. They’re to be auctioned in a few minutes, if you care to bid.” She gives him a skeptical once-over. “Though you don’t seem the type.”

Hux ignores her comment. “What about that one?” Hux says, pointing to Ren. “Is he well?”

She shrugs. “He’s a feisty one. Between you and me, I think he’ll be a handful for whoever gets him. In a few ways.”

Hux swallows, suddenly embarrassed. This is not what he signed up for. He throws the drink back in one long swig, and sets the glass back on the bar more forcefully than he means to. “Another.”


Hux has the credits, and he can dip into his own reserve if he has to. That’s not the issue. The issue is that while the other men (boys, really) are being bid upon, he can sense Ren becoming increasingly agitated. Hux still can’t really see his face when he’s made to move into place in front of that disgusting Hutt, Durga, but his chest is flushed and rosy and it definitely seems like he’s sweating too much for the moderately warm temperature of the subterranean bar. Hux’s stomach sinks as he realizes that Ren is probably drugged, though he can’t tell what kind just by looking: Sedative? Hallucinogen? Something to knock out his Force powers, maybe, if such a thing exists. If they’ve discovered that about him already. That will make the extraction that much more complicated. His jaw clenches.

Hux turns to the bartender, who is pouring his third drink. “He’s on something, isn’t he,” he comments, careful not to let the contempt leak into his voice. He isn’t sure he’s succeeded.

Her eyes narrow, and she glances at the Hutt and back. “You planning on bidding?”


She says nothing for a few long moments, and then huffs and crosses her arms. “I can’t believe I have to say this out loud but, like your drinks, information does not come free.”

Hux blinks at her. “Oh,” he replies, then recovers, palming a credit chit across the bar. She glances at it and has the decency to look surprised at the amount before slipping it into some hidden place on her person.

“Okay, I can tell you like him. Maybe you know each other, huh? Look,” she glances over her shoulder again and lowers her voice. “He’s really strong. Durga’s not sure if he’ll cooperate with whoever buys him. So they put something in his rations this morning.”

“What. Did. They. Give. Him,” Hux grits out, his fingers clenching around his glass.

“It’s… a sex drug. What do they call it? An aphrodisiac. Powerful. It’ll make him want it, bad. For the next few hours at least. Until whoever buys him gets their fill.” She shrugs again. “Until they violate the return policy.”

Hux downs this drink as quickly as the last two. He does not want to know what the return policy is. He doesn’t want to be in this sandy kriffing hellscape at all. And he especially doesn’t want to do what he’s about to do.

“...the opening bid is 20,000 credits,” the announcer is saying, echoed by a myriad of translations.

“20,000,” Hux barks crisply, raising his hand.

Ren’s head snaps up and he stares furiously at Hux. His cheeks are burning, maybe from more than the drug. His eyes are dark, hooded.

“25,000,” says some pathetic lowlife from across the room, and the bidding begins in earnest.

“28,000,” Hux counters, feeling like he shouldn’t use up all of the mission allowance too quickly. He turns to the bartender as another bidder chimes in.

“Any advice?” he asks, voice low, slipping her another thousand credits.

“Banfi, the guy in blue, he’ll top out around 40k,” she replies swiftly. “If you wait til he drops out and top the other guy by more than 10, you’ll probably be okay.”

Hux follows the advice, and tips the bartender gratefully when he wins at 65,000. Wins. Disgusting. Ren has been staring at him, horrified, through the whole bloody process, and continues to glare daggers as Hux approaches to collect him and get the hell out.

The hell are you doing here? Hux hears in his head as he steps on to the dias to retrieve his prize.

“Rescuing you, apparently,” he hisses in reply.

I was handling it, Ren sends, and manages to sound petulant. Hux holds in a disapproving snort.

Very good. You have the money? Durga addresses him as his assistant hastily translates.

“It’s all here,” Hux replies, more careful now than ever to mask his accent. He passes the chit to the assistant, who checks it and nods to Durga.

We don’t usually do business with this kind of credit, Durga says. Hux stiffens. Behind him, Ren makes a low sound in his throat.

Hux’s stomach turns. He knows they probably won’t let him change the credit, and certainly won’t hand over Ren. If Durga doesn’t take what he offers, it’s likely he’ll end up in the same position as the knight, or worse. But he has to try.

“Given a day, I can convert it if—”

Show us how much you want this one, and I’ll consider taking your marked credit. Durga laughs, an ugly bubbling sound. The rest of the bar laughs with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Hux can see the bartender wincing and busying herself with scrubbing the surface of the bar.

Well? He’s certainly ready for you.

Hux turns slowly to face Ren, feeling his own cheeks burning a shade matching his counterpart’s.

They slipped me something… I’m not going to be able to… Ren sends him, his thoughts coming in fragments. His lips part as he starts panting in shallow breaths. He squeezes his eyes shut. We have to… get it over with.

It’s all too much for Hux. He’s loath to admit that he’s had thoughts of an... unsavory nature about Ren in the past, securely alone in his quarters, but even if he had secretly wanted— well, it shouldn’t be like this. Not in full damn view of this cat-calling crowd.

We could break cover, Hux thinks at Ren desperately, even as he approaches him. We could just murder the lot of them.

Didn’t let myself get in this far just to fail our leader, Ren replies swiftly. And then, more miserably, Doesn’t matter anyway… want you… can’t help it.

That makes Hux’s stomach flip in an entirely different way. He reaches up unsteadily, pushes Ren’s sweat-damp hair away his face, seeks his eyes. His pupils are dilated, and when Hux’s fist clenches at the sight of them, Ren’s scrapes a tooth over his bottom lip. Hux has seen Ren’s face many times before, and has even seen him in distress, but he knows that particular moment will be burned into his brain for a good, long time. He squeezes his eyes shut as if doing so will suddenly erase the bar, its patrons, Ren’s kriffing expression, this whole awful scene.

Have to put on a show… At least pretend you like it, General.

“Undo your pants,” Ren rasps out loud, and drops to his knees.

Hux fumbles with the button on his khaki trousers and tries to block out the sounds of the audience. Despite his abhorrent circumstances, he’s been half-hard since he caught sight of Ren in that obscene piece of cloth, and whatever the other man may think, he’s not going to have to pretend to enjoy Ren sucking him off. He just wishes it wasn’t here.

Hux frees his cock, wrapping his slightly sunburnt hand loosely around the shaft. He watches, mesmerized, as Ren works his lips around the head, slicking it with his tongue before taking him deep, his nose bumping against Hux’s knuckles.

Hux groans involuntarily at the feel of Ren’s mouth enveloping him, cursing inwardly when he hears Durga chuckle off to his side.

Hands tied… no traction… need you to guide my head, Ren sends. Make it rough.

Hux isn’t sure if that last instruction was meant for the display or because that’s what Ren likes, but it sends a jolt down his spine nevertheless. He takes his hand off his cock and fists into Ren’s hair, pulling his head back and then down, hard, and grunts again as his cockhead hits the back of Ren’s throat.

Hux’s eyes slip shut as he sets a brisk pace to fuck Ren’s mouth. With each thrust, he imagines executing each one of the onlookers. Personally, with his blaster, each one lined up against the wall. He eliminates each target precisely and efficiently, ending one life at a time. It’s almost pleasurable, this fantasy, and he hears Ren chuckle in his mind.

Your anger is... refreshing, General.

Get out of there, Hux sends back, tightening his fist and yanking Ren back by his hair to glare at him. His cock falls out of Ren’s wet mouth, a guilty strand of spit still linking them. Ren looks wrecked already, and Hux suppresses a moan at the sight of it, not wanting to give the audience, or Ren, the pleasure.

Did your new pet bite? laughs the Hutt, the crowd of sycophants following suit. Hux scowls at him, a murderous glint in his eye, his hand still on Ren’s head.

“Surely I’ve provided adequate proof,” he hisses.

Durga considers them both for a long moment, before clasping his flimsy hands together.

You’ve entertained me enough for today. I’ll take the credit, so get out of my sight.

Hux exhales, wrathful but relieved, and hears Ren do the same below him. He tucks himself back into his pants hastily, grabs the gold chain connecting Ren’s collar and handcuffs, and hauls the knight up to his feet. “Come on.”

Ren grunts in response and lets himself be led from the club and out into the rapidly cooling desert night.


They’re about to make a run for Hux’s shuttle when he hears someone call out to him. He turns to see the young bartender approaching.

“What the hell do you want?” he snaps.

“You forgot the key,” she replies, shaking her head at him in disbelief. “I swear, you try to help, and it’s always like this. No respect at all.”

Hux’s jaw twitches. “What key?”

“The key to unlock his chains?” She grabs Hux’s hand and presses a small gold object into his palm. “What, you were just going to leave him like that? Thought you liked him.” She shakes her head again and turns to go. “You’re generous, but never, ever come back, okay?”

Hux jerks Ren away from the blasted Hutt lair, waiting until they’ve turned a corner to let him catch his breath. “Are you all right?”

“Depends… where’s our ride?” Ren responds tightly.


“I’ll... manage, then.”

They’re both stumbling somewhat, but they reach the outskirts of the district in ten minutes. No one is near the shuttle, thankfully, and they make it on board without trouble.

As soon as the hatch seals shut, Ren wrenches the chains from Hux’s grip and rounds on him, blocking him in the corridor.

“Way I see it, we’ve got two options now,” he rasps, his face close enough to Hux’s that he can feel Ren’s breath ghost across his cheeks.

“Excuse me?”

“Knock me out, if you want. Should be something in the med cabinet for that. Needs to last long enough for this drug to wear off.”

“Good idea,” says Hux, making to slip out from under Ren’s shadow, but Ren crowds in closer, backing Hux against the wall, his thigh grazing the front of Hux’s trousers.

“Or… we could… ride it out.”

That gives Hux pause. A blush crawls across Ren’s face, and if that’s not the most ridiculous thing that’s happened today— Hux inhales sharply. He smells good, he thinks absurdly, and immediately hates himself for admitting it.

You like me like this, I think, Ren sends, and Hux snarls at him, shoving him backward into the bulkhead.

“I told you to stay out of my mind, Ren!”

“Wasn’t reading your mind,” he replies, a smirk playing on his lips, but he stays against the wall, giving Hux room to move. “Get the meds quickly if you’re going to. Otherwise… come here.”

Hux hesitates. “How do I know you even want this, really?”

Ren makes a long, frustrated sound. “If I didn’t... I wouldn’t have suggested… just get over here, Hux.

Something about the way Ren’s voice cracks on his name, spiteful and desperate, makes Hux’s pulse jump. He comes to a decision as he rakes his eyes over Ren’s bare torso. He pushes himself off the wall and braces his hands on either side of Ren’s arms, his mouth quirking up.

“I do like you like this,” he says. “You can’t make a mess all tied up like that.”

Oh, you’d be surprised, Ren sends, and tilts his head down to catch Hux’s mouth. He slides his tongue past Hux’s lips, a shiver of delight buzzing warm and low through Hux as he presses against him, radiating heat and dampening the breathy linen of Hux’s shirt.

Their kiss turns half-feral as Hux grabs Ren’s shoulders and steers him toward the cabin, walking the taller man backward until Ren stumbles, the cot catching him behind the knees. He falls back as they part, breathing raggedly.

“Don’t stop touching…” Ren whines, the ship’s dim fluorescent lights glinting off his golden collar as he struggles with the chains, plainly wanting to pull Hux down onto him. Hux stares down at him, half-lidded and emboldened, and a little bit drunk.

“You really are appealing like that. Who knew the Master of the Knights of Ren was so needy.”

“I can’t help it… asshole,” Ren says, grimacing, but his eyes are pleading.

Hux realizes suddenly that there is a noticeable bulge in the folds of Ren’s thin skirts. A cruel sort of smile spreads across his face. He folds his hands behind his back.

“No. You need to ask me nicely, Ren.”

I could make you. A threat.

“But I don’t think you will. I think... you like this too,” Hux observes. He stays in place, Ren splayed and bound on the cot beneath him. A spark of something flashes across Ren’s features— desire? He bites his lip again, and it almost breaks Hux’s resolve.

Then, finally: ”Please touch me, General.”

Hands still clasped firmly behind his back, Hux bends at the waist, ghosting his lips against the shell of Ren’s ear.

“Be specific,” he murmurs.

A low growl escapes Ren’s throat. “Put your fingers... in my mouth,” he grinds out. Hux’s eyebrows go up, but he unfolds, bringing one hand to to cup Ren’s chin, grazing his thumb against Ren’s bottom lip, light enough to make his breath hitch from the shock of it. He watches the way Ren trembles as he presses harder, delighting in the way his lips redden against his white teeth. Ren’s tongue darts out to swipe the digit, but Hux can tell he’s trying to be good, so he rewards him with his index and ring fingers, pressing steadily inside. Ren sucks them eagerly, tonguing them apart to get them both slick with spit and it feels kriffing good, Hux thinks, his cock twitching in response. He slips them out enough to crook the tips behind Ren’s teeth, pulling his head close and replacing his fingers with his own tongue, wanting to taste the inside of Ren’s mouth properly again.

Ren lets him take his time now, oddly quiet since Hux had delivered his orders, so Hux feels free to abuse his mouth, licking into him hungrily and sucking his lip in the same spot Ren had been worrying at a few moments ago. Ren’s long groan vibrates across Hux’s tongue, telegraphing his need better than thoughts could. Somehow every time he breaks down like this it makes Hux want to pull back and draw it out. Drive him to the edge of it. Make him beg.

He breaks the kiss, putting just enough distance between them to ensure that Ren will still feel his words as well as hear them.

“You like having me inside you.”


“Tell me what you want.”

“Wan–want you to come down my throat,” Ren growls. “And then again in my ass. Want you to make me come so hard I can’t see straight. Want you…” Ren trails off, jerking forward to kiss Hux again, or maybe bite him, but Hux keeps himself at teasing distance.

“Don’t test my patience, Ren, or I might not let you have it. Maybe I’ll take advantage of your situation, and leave you to suffer when I’m done with you.”

Ren whimpers in response, and it’s so pathetic and obscene that Hux can’t help himself anymore. He tilts back to unzip his pants.

“On the floor,” he commands, so Ren shuffles forward and then sinks to his knees in front of the cot, leaning back into it slightly. Hux frees himself, biting back a grunt as the coarse fabric brushes over his hard-on, then dips his head down to meet Ren’s eyes, expectant.

For his part, Ren gazes back up at Hux with the same dark, desirous eyes as back in that blasted bar.

“Much better,” Hux murmurs, threading his fingers though Ren’s mess of raven hair, tugging his head forward.

I liked you murderous, though, Ren thinks at him, flashing his teeth in a smirk. Hux’s hand jerks, wiping that smug expression off Ren’s face with his dick.

For all his faults, the knight is infuriatingly good at this. He allows Hux to slide his mouth forward until his nose is buried in ginger curls with not a hint of a gag. All the while, he sucks gently, cheeks hollowing, pulling a soft groan from the general. Ren draws back against Hux’s hand, dragging the point of his tongue up the underside of Hux’s cock, and then rams himself back down.

Rough, Ren reminds him, then pulls back again, too slowly, clenching his jaw so his teeth scrape a sharp spark of pleasure up the length of Hux’s cock.

Hux exhales in a stutter, breath coming to match the rhythm that Ren sets. His eyes slide shut once more, this time not to block out his surroundings but to enhance the sensation of Ren surrounding him in hot wetness, of the patterns he’s tracing with his tongue, of the—

Ren suddenly twists his head just so, and Hux’s thoughts slip sideways into oblivion. He’s pretty sure he moaned just then.

Ren does it a second time, and the resulting cry catches in Hux’s throat, coming out cracked and needy. He fists Ren’s sweat-soaked hair tightly and bucks into his mouth, making Ren growl in return.

“G–gods...” Hux babbles, reduced to monosyllables as he speeds the pace, so close, hammering into Ren’s mouth.

Come for me, General, please— Ren projects, and it’s more than enough to tip Hux over the edge with a long groan of satisfaction. Ren presses in as far as he can until Hux’s hand goes slack. Then he leans back slowly, sucking as he goes until he releases Hux with a wet pop of saliva-slick lips.

Hux’s knees are trembling under him and his face feels like it’s on fire. He crumples unsteadily to the metal floor in front of Ren, who watches him with an expression that can only be described as hungry.

Fuck, Ren,” Hux breathes, raking a hand through his own messy hair.

A smile flickers across Ren’s features. His slitted skirt is spread in silky folds around his hips like a dark halo. Hux is once again aware of how achingly hard he must be, between the drug and his activities.

“Untie me,” Ren demands, almost a whine. There’s a glimmer of saliva at the corner of his mouth. Hux wants to reach out and smear it under his thumb, but he hesitates, processing his words.

“So you can finally touch yourself? Get the pleasure you’ve been cruelly denied so far?”

Ren shakes his head. “So I can touch you.” He licks at that same corner that Hux is staring at. “Do you really think sucking those sounds out of you is… unpleasurable for me?”

Hux can hardly suppress his reaction to that, his jaw slackening. The knight has a wicked oral fixation. Noted.

“I told you, I like having you where I can keep you from making a mess,” Hux murmurs, reaching up to run a finger along the rim of the collar.

“Already made one,” Ren counters, staring pointedly at Hux through dark lashes. But the effect is undermined when he shifts his weight and silk slips across his lap. His eyes flutter shut and a small hiss escapes him.

Hux smirks and leans forward, planting his hands on either side of Ren’s covered thighs. “Tell me how good you’ll be for me and I’ll consider it,” he whispers in his ear. He nips Ren’s earlobe as extra incentive, making him gasp.

“I–I’ll—” Ren stutters. “I’ll only use my hands to touch you… won’t help myself.” He twists his head to lap at Hux’s jawline, slurring into the sun-kissed skin at his throat, “Only you can help me.”

Hux decides to make a show of it. He rises, slowly removing the civilian outfit he’d worn for the mission. He sheds his worn leather jacket first and slings it across the chair at the comm desk. His loose shirt is next, untied at the throat. He pulls it over his head in one smooth tug, exposing his pale torso, dusted with freckles. Next are his socks and combat boots, kicked off toward the corridor with none of his usual fastidiousness. Finally, he hooks his thumbs around the waist of his dusty trousers and skivvies and pulls them neatly down and off. He notes how greedily Ren drinks the show in, panting slightly, but also how he neither struggles nor protests. Hux has to give it to him, Ren’s on his best behaviour.

“Good boy,” Hux purrs, removing the key from his trousers pocket before tossing them onto the chair with the rest of his clothes. “Stand up.”

Ren does so in a fluid motion, his brow knit in concentration. And he likes orders. Interesting.

Hux approaches him and reaches his arms back in a mock embrace, their chests pressed together as he searches for the lock. He can smell sex on Ren from this close and it’s intoxicating— he wants to breathe him in deep, bury his face in his damp hair, kiss the taste of himself off Ren’s lips.

Instead, he inserts the key and turns. The shackles fall away as Ren shakes his wrists out, tilting his head back slightly at the extra weight around his neck. A moment later, Hux feels Ren’s warm fingers snaking around his waist and coming to rest on the curve of his ass. He unlocks the collar next, a little wistfully, and pulls it away from Ren’s throat, finally discarding the whole mess of chains on the steel floor of the cabin.

There’s a purpling stripe around Ren’s neck from where the collar dug in. Hux shouldn’t find it sexy, but he does; he can’t help but reach between them to thumb it, and then lick it, pressing kisses into his jugular and in the crook of his shoulder. He feels Ren’s fingers dig into his ass, and his world suddenly tilts as he’s pulled on top of the other man, on all fours on the cot, one knee between Ren’s open legs.

“You’re light,” Ren remarks, but if it was meant to be an insult, it doesn’t come out that way. Instead, he sounds almost reverent. Could take you… his thoughts slide into Hux, maybe by accident. But he doesn’t move. He lets Hux assault his throat and waits, not even daring to grind against the thigh so close to his erection.

“I’m shocked,” Hux says, rising up on extended arms. “You don’t usually exhibit this level of restraint.”

Ren’s fingers twitch, and then he’s raking his nails from Hux’s thighs up his back to his shoulder blades, eliciting a long moan. “I don’t have to,” he warns.

“You’ll pay for that,” Hux breathes. He bites at the necklace of a bruise, sucking the wound between his teeth so it blooms red under the skin. Ren’s hands flutter and still, coming to rest on the bones of Hux’s narrow hips.

“Better.” Rocking backwards onto his knees, Hux takes in the sight of the debauched knight. He runs his fingers lightly across the length of Ren’s chest, pausing over a pink nipple, leaving shimmery trails over his sweat-slick skin. Ren is breathing hard, and his muscles ripple with the strain of staying still. Hux’s hand travels lower, over the bumps of his abs, fingertips trailing into the dark hairs that lead lower still, under the waist of the loincloth. He pauses here, running the tips of his two fingers back and forth along the waistband and watching Ren’s stomach tremble slightly. He flicks his eyes back to Ren’s; the knight is watching his movements intently.

“You want me to ride you,” Hux says, slipping one finger into the fold of the slit but no further.

“Very much,” Ren replies in a whisper. He almost looks like he’s going to cry.

“If I touched you now, would you be able to stop me?” Hux wonders.

Ren whines, long and low. “F–fuck me, Hux… just stop talking and—” he stops short as Hux removes his hands entirely, letting them hover just above his skin.

“Answer the question.”

“N–no. Couldn’t stop you now,” Ren chokes out. Hux can practically see his pulse racing.

“Then I’d better be careful not to, yet.”

And then he’s sliding his hand into the folds, fingers finding Ren’s surprisingly sweat-drenched inner thighs and working up toward his ass. Hux is careful to avoid his erection, but between his forefinger grazing Ren’s tight hole and the friction of the silk, it’s enough to tear a tortured gasp from the man’s throat anyway. Hux smiles and pushes in, and the sound of Ren’s resulting moan is enough to make his cock jump in anticipation. He’s shockingly wet, and the second finger slides in with no trouble at all. A side effect of the drugs?

“No…” Ren answers out loud between gasps as Hux moves in and out slowly, opening him. “Gave me a choice— ready myself with something they gave me… or risk going dry…”

Hux is so lost in what he’s doing, what he’s making Ren do, that he barely registers the words. “You… you did this yourself?” He crooks his fingers suddenly, and Ren’s whole body jolts. Hux’s vision clouds with lust at the sight of it.

“F–fingered myself to get the lube in… They— ah! They wouldn’t let me come from it though…”

“Fuck,” Hux breathes, overwhelmed by the mental image. He slides his slippery fingers out, uses them to prepare himself messily. He repositions, Ren spreading wide beneath him, face and chest blushing hotly. Hux’s cockhead bumps against Ren’s opening and Hux glances up in time to see him biting his swollen lip in anticipation, pupils blown. Hux forgets himself in that moment, forgets to go slow, just wants to get as far inside Ren as possible. Rough echoes in his head, and he buries himself to the hilt with a strangled cry, mingling with Ren’s own.

Ren doesn’t want gentle, and he makes it known in the way he braces his hips and grips Hux for leverage, his fingers digging red trenches into the general’s fair skin. For each of Hux’s heavy thrusts, Ren responds with one of his own so that it tears through them both, white-hot pleasure bursting behind Hux’s eyes. He gets lost in the tightness of it, in the way Ren’s head is thrown back to expose his throat, in the beads of sweat running in thin rivulets over his skin and those bruises.

“Pl–please…” Ren sobs, and Hux doesn’t know what he’s asking for exactly, but he’s too far gone now for games. He’s overwhelmed, he wants to give and take all at once— he fucks up into Ren just so, seeking that spot again, and when he finds it Ren shudders around him and sobs again, unable to form words any longer.

Hux brushes the thin fabric aside, finally, to uncover Ren’s achingly hard cock, pre-come pearling on the tip. He was going to wait, but he can’t now, not with Ren moaning plaintively under him, wrapping his thighs around him like he’s drowning and Hux is his liferaft. His hands are shaking but he grips Ren’s length as firmly as he can and strokes up in time with his thrusts. Ren gasps, struggling for breath; he must be so sensitive, Hux thinks, and then forgets everything again as Ren clenches around him, buried deep.

He can’t last under the onslaught of Ren’s need ripping through him; he’s only dimly aware of the flickering of the lights and creaking from within the bulkhead. A few more strokes and then a strangled cry— “Hux...!”— and Ren is pulsing tight around him, come spilling hot over Hux’s hand. It’s too much, the sight and sound and sensation of Ren falling apart under him, and Hux’s own orgasm shudders through him as he rocks into Ren’s ass with a sharp groan.

Hux pitches forward, slipping out in the process. He feels Ren’s strong arms surround him, and he ends up pillowed on the knight’s chest, face pressed into his neck. Ren twists and catches his mouth in a messy, wet kiss. He rests one hand on Hux’s ass, almost possessively, the other coming up to comb through his hair.

“Thanks,” he slurs into Hux’s mouth after a few moments, their breath mingling. Hux snorts, considers his position— naked, sticky, wrapped tightly in the arms of a man he’d thought he disliked quite intensely.

“This is not how I expected this mission to turn out,” he replies, hazy, sated.

Ren just laughs. Hux thinks as he dozes off that he rather likes the sound of it.