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Missionary Impossible

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Not long after Hux retires to his room for the night, Kylo shows up at Hux’s doorstep with a bored look and no explanation. None is needed, of course. Hux knows Kylo met with Snoke early this morning and has news to relay; Kylo implies as much when his tongue darts across his bottom lip and pushes his hair out from his face – his signal. We need to talk. Hux sighs just for show, as if Kylo Ren is nothing but a terrible pest who seeks to burden him at all hours of the day. Which, well, there’s plenty of truth in that, but Hux steps to the side and allows Kylo in anyway.

They don’t talk right away. It’s another precaution they take, just in case someone has found a way to eavesdrop on their rendezvous. That way, if there is a spy, they are only privy to heavy breaths exhaled in between hard, biting kisses, and the rustle of clothing hastily discarded to the ground. Even if it’s intended to be a deterrent, Hux certainly doesn’t mind this part. He takes his time biting and sucking marks along Kylo’s collarbone while he runs his gloved hands down his sides, until he’s rewarded with the sound of Kylo trying (and failing) to bite back a moan. Nothing wrong with a little bit of pleasure before they add in the business part; judging by the way Kylo arches into every little touch, it seems he agrees, too.

Business talk only begins when Hux has two fingers inside Kylo, who tries to fuck himself back down on them with light, breathy moans.

“It’s as we thought, then?” Hux asks. A vague question, but he trusts Kylo will be able to follow that train of thought. At their last rendezvous three days ago, Kylo fucked Hux hard from behind and murmured in his ear that Snoke wanted to see Kylo on his planet soon, and that arrangements would be made shortly. Surely logistics of this meeting came up today. 

“Yes,” Kylo says, voice trailing off in a hiss when Hux adds a third finger, fucking him as hard as he dares.

Hux hums in acknowledgement as he works Kylo open; the wet, lewd sounds of his fingers mingle with Kylo’s ragged cries, his body arching off the bed as he grips the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

Close – I’ll be so close, I’m so close, Hux, can I -?”

Twisting his fingers until Kylo groans and throws his head back, Hux considers the desperate, begging words and reads in between the lines. Kylo isn’t just asking permission to come. I’ll be standing in front of him. I’ll see the whites of his eyes. Let me kill him. Hux clucks his tongue in disapproval, slowly withdrawing his fingers, even when Kylo makes a low sound in complaint.

“No. Wouldn’t want to be premature, would we?” Hux says, reaching for the lube bottle to slick up his cock.

“Prema-” Kylo cuts off with an indignant huff, leveling a glare at Hux. “Fuck you, that wasn’t funny.”

“Maybe next time, and it wasn’t supposed to be, you impatient boy,” Hux says, his words clipped as he adjusts his position to snub the head of his cock against Kylo’s hole, teasing. He likes dragging this out, likes taking his time until Kylo’s overcome with his desire to be fucked and owned.

Kylo grits his teeth, fingers digging into Hux’s biceps hard enough to hurt. Unbothered by the display, Hux waits for Kylo to say that one, simple little word that will get him what he so desperately craves.

“Please,” Kylo bites out, like it pains him to beg, like they’re both not fully aware that Kylo loves to be at Hux’s mercy. 

“Good boy,” Hux murmurs as he pushes in with one smooth, even thrust. Kylo exhales, trying to relax his body around the intrusion.

Hux starts slow; it won’t do to go too fast and finish before they’ve completed their debriefing. For a moment, the room falls silent aside from the quiet slap of skin on skin, heavy breaths, and soft moans. Once they fall into a good rhythm, Hux turns his focus from the tight heat of Kylo’s body to the mission at hand.


Kylo lifts a hand to Hux’s neck, a movement that nearly makes Hux flinch, but he catches himself in time. Fingers sweep across Hux’s pulse point, and then Kylo traces a 2 over the skin. Two days – more time than Hux thought they’d have, but still not enough, as far as he’s concerned. He allows his frustration to manifest in a sharp thrust of his hips, which has Kylo clawing at Hux’s shoulders, biting his lip hard enough to bleed. Hux leans in, licking away the drop of blood and giving Kylo a hard, messy kiss.

“And am I requested?” he asks against Kylo’s lips.

“Fuck – yes,” Kylo moans, already sounding so damn wrecked that Hux would fuck him harder in order to hear more broken words and begging if this was any other situation. But here and now, blood drains from his face and his hips stutter.

“I am?” he hisses, needing a confirmation because fuck, he hadn’t counted on this. Kylo screws up his face and looks at Hux like he’s never heard anything more idiotic.

“What? No, of course not. Yes as in yes, right there, keep going,” Kylo says, digging an ankle against Hux’s lower back in pointed encouragement. Hux licks his lips and searches for enough patience and self-control to not throttle Kylo.

“You greedy brat,” Hux spits, and Kylo’s groan of approval quickly turns into muffled cries as Hux adjusts his angle to hit Kylo’s prostate just right.

They’ve only just begun, and Kylo already looks like a mess: wild hair fanned out on the pillow, sweat beading his forehead, lips eternally parted as he stares up at Hux through half-lidded eyes, dark and glazed over. It’s a beautiful sight, one Hux may never tire of seeing. But as much as he enjoys watching his powerful Knight fall apart beneath him, he needs this to last, so he shifts his pace to something slow and deep rather than harsh, punishing snaps of his hips. It seems to work; Kylo’s breathing becomes less frantic, his dark eyes refocusing on Hux. Pleased, Hux swipes his thumb over Kylo’s lips, breath catching when Kylo takes it in his mouth, licking at it. Dirty boy.

“I want to take support. More pairs of eyes to scout the perimeter before we go inside,” Kylo says once pulling off from Hux’s thumb, sweeping his hands across the expanse of Hux’s back. “Think you can lend a hand?

Kylo punctuates the request by rubbing his hard cock across Hux’s stomach with a smirk, smearing precome, and okay, Hux supposes he deserved that pun. 

“Eventually,” Hux agrees, fucking into Kylo hard enough to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. “Tell me how many.”

Dragging his nails down Hux’s back, Kylo surges up to mouth along Hux’s jaw before tapping a finger against Hux’s spine, onetwothree times. Their own code. Each full tap equates to two. Six Stormtroopers.

“Doable. You’ll have it before the night is over.” He’s already thinking of who would be best to send: six who have proved themselves as competent, but not so skilled and integral that he’d think twice about sending them to be executed if they became a liability. Later, when they inevitably go for a round two, he’ll trace their code numbers against Kylo’s thigh with his lips or fingers.

Maybe Kylo catches onto that thought, given the way he digs his ankle harder against Hux’s back and tips his head backward, baring the pale column of his throat to Hux. Never one to resist the submissive display, Hux presses sharp nips and open-mouth kisses along Kylo’s neck, trailing up to his ear.

“Find the weak spots,” he murmurs into Kylo’s ear, biting the shell and reveling in the way Kylo shudders. “Check the missile launchers at the front and see how easy it will be to take them out.”

Kylo’s fingers thread through Hux’s hair, tangling and pulling hard enough to make Hux grunt from the pleasure-pain. He doesn’t enjoy hair pulling quite as much as Kylo, who all but melts and turns pleasantly pliant at even the softest tug, but he likes it enough for Kylo to use it against him.

“Give me specifics,” Kylo says, equally quiet as he pulls Hux’s hair again, flashing teeth when he gets Hux to shudder. “I’ll make up a reason for support to survey it, but you need to give me more than that to work with.”

“Oh, I’ll give you more than that,” Hux says, voice more growl than anything as he buries his hand in Kylo’s hair in return, yanking until Kylo releases his own grip with a quiet moan, body going lax.

Heat curls low in his stomach as Kylo hitches his leg higher on Hux’s back, deepening the angle to chase his own pleasure as his eyes start to glaze over again. It’s a move that Hux wouldn’t allow if they had more to discuss, but he supposes they’ve exchanged enough information for this session. Murmuring a quiet, firm let me see you take it, Hux increases his pace until he’s fucking Kylo in earnest, leaving him trembling and choking on half-formed words of thanks and encouragement to go harder, yesss, Hux, make me come, make me come. Sneaking a hand in between them, it only takes a few firm tugs of Kylo’s cock before he’s coming with a stuttered, long moan in relief. The sight and sound of Kylo riding the waves of pleasure is all Hux needs to finish as well, smothering his groan against Kylo’s shoulder.

They fall still for a moment, breathing hard against each other as they come down from the high. Eventually, Hux shifts to withdraw from Kylo and sit astride his hips, careful not to place too much pressure on his softening cock. Kylo’s watching his every move, like a snake to its charmer, and Hux calmly meets his eyes as he drags a finger through the mess on Kylo’s stomach.

“Specifics,” Hux says, and Kylo frowns, focusing.

Slowly enough for Kylo to follow along, Hux writes a series of coordinates in Morse code, one number at a time, across Kylo’s toned abdomen. When he has to recoat his finger in Kylo’s cooling come, he doesn’t miss the way Kylo bites his lip, clearly enjoying the display. When he finishes the last number, he looks up to see Kylo staring at the marks through widened, dark eyes, his body trembling with each labored breath he takes. Hux allows Kylo sufficient time to memorize the coordinates before prompting, “Got it?”

Kylo just nods, still looking at the drying come painted across his abs. Hux isn’t positive Kylo will remember, but he’ll just have to make Kylo replicate the lewd painting on Hux tomorrow as a test. Kylo runs his tongue across his lips at the thought; he doesn’t appear to object. 

“Good.” Hux leans down and licks away each mark with slow, broad swipes of his tongue, erasing all traces of their plot. Once he’s cleaned up his mess, he looks up to see Kylo staring at Hux with renewed intensity, eyes burning hot like coals. It’s a wild, fierce glow, one that intoxicates Hux and burns him to the core. Hux feels a similar fire kindle inside him the longer they stare; a combination of being drunk on lust and the taste of their impending victory, of ruling together, Emperor and Knight, just as it ought to be. Without breaking eye contact, Hux presses a hot, lingering kiss against Kylo’s stomach in promise. We’re going to win. 

When Kylo hauls him up for a long kiss, it feels like sealing their mutinous contract all over again. Yes, we are.