They'd be in more trouble if Hux's father found them, but Hux's father was never home. Ben's parents were always home, always around, and always enthusiastically in Ben's business. Hux's house was quieter, his bed bigger, his sheets softer. The piles of pillows on his bed were like clouds.
"Come here," Ben said, and tugged Hux towards the bed.
"It's my room," Hux said, a shade irritably. "Don't rush me."
Ben stopped, fell to his knees, and pulled Hux's knuckles to his lips in an awkward kiss. Hux shook him off and took a step back, laughing.
"You're so odd."
Hux dropped his bag onto the floor, shrugged out of his blazer, carefully draping it over his desk chair before he pulled himself up onto the high bed. From where Ben was sitting on the floor, Hux may as well have been on a throne. A throne of pillows. He got up, long legs unbending, and went to him. Their hands brushed between their wool-clad thighs; Ben turned his hand up, twisting their fingers together. He looked at Hux. Hux looked up at him, and smiled.
"Take your jacket off," Hux said, tone still a touch annoyed. He let go of Ben's hand.
"Just my jacket?" Ben asked. Hux rolled his eyes. Ben let his blazer fall to the floor, loosened his tie enough to pull it over his head and threw that down, too. He started to unbutton his shirt but before he got too far, he was distracted by the soft touch of Hux's fingers on his face.
Ben made a soft, inquisitive noise, and turned toward the touch. Hux's fingertips ran over his cheekbone, before he leaned in and pressed their lips together. Ben sighed into it, and claimed Hux's mouth with his own.
Before Ben knew it he was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, Hux kneeling over him and slowly undoing the buttons of Ben's powder blue oxford, the Erst School crest proudly emblazoned on the breast pocket. Hux traced his fingers down the center of Ben's chest, along the line of flesh left bare by parting cloth. His touch was light, ticklish, and Ben fought not to squirm up against it. He did squirm, just slightly, when Hux's long fingers reached his belt buckle.
"I want to have sex," Hux said. His voice was quiet but steady, his fingers steady as he undid Ben's belt. He parted the zipper on Ben's slacks, and Ben could feel himself getting hard, as if his dick was rising up to meet Hux's hands.
"Now?" Ben asked. He'd been afraid, for a moment, that his voice was going to break. But it didn't, and Hux smiled at him, a sly conspiratorial smirk.
"My father's out of town for the weekend,” he said, lifting one careless shoulder. “You should go home and get a bag. Your parents won't mind if you stay, will they?"
He bent low and pressed a trail of kisses everywhere his fingers had been. He approached Ben's waist, and Ben held his breath. Hux sat up. Ben exhaled.
"I have condoms," Ben said quickly, picking himself up on his elbows. "What more do I need?"
Hux didn't roll his eyes, not quite, but he cast his gaze toward the ceiling. "Clothes?" he suggested.
"I'll wear yours. I won't wear any. Come kiss me."
Hux did roll his eyes that time, but he went willingly, eased himself down onto the bed alongside Ben and kissed him softly. Ben's eyes slipped shut. He reached out blindly for Hux's shoulders and made purchase, pulled Hux more firmly on top of him. Hux was slight, comparatively, but Ben liked the feel of his weight on him.
"You're so odd," Hux repeated. “I've never met anyone like you.”
"You like me," Ben said. He smiled. Hux kissed him again.
"I'd like your dick," Hux said, "in me," and Ben's breath caught in his throat.
" —Are you sure?"
Hux didn't say anything, just sat up in a way that fit the curve of his ass snugly up against where Ben's dick was threatening to escape from his pants. He untied his tie and leaned over Ben to drop it onto his nightstand; slowly, he unbuttoned his own shirt and shrugged it off of his coathanger shoulders. He pulled off his thin, bright white undershirt in one showy movement and dropped both to the floor. Then he shifted off of Ben, but before he could protest he realized Hux was taking off his pants.
Hux stopped. He slapped Ben's thigh, a short, sharp pain. "Get naked.”
Ben huffed out a laugh even as he scrambled to obey. He breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped off his underwear, his dick thick and heavy in his hand as he sat back on the edge of the bed.
He looked at Hux, who'd settled beside him: Hux, who was staring down at Ben's lap with something in his eyes that Ben couldn't quite identify. It was almost fear, almost hunger.
"What?” He tried to take a joking tone, but covered himself with cupped hands. He spent a lot of time worrying that he was entirely too ungainly for someone like Hux, "Nothing you haven't seen before."
"I'd like your dick in me," Hux said again, but he sounded a little distant this time. He squared his shoulders, seemingly came back to himself. "It … will be the biggest thing I've ever put in myself," he said, and laughed a little, silently. "That's all."
"Wait," Ben said. His brain struggled to catch up with the conversation. "What else have you put in yourself?"
Hux laughed again, aloud that time. His fingers came up to catch on the ridge of Ben's cheek, and pull him in for a kiss. "Oh, you," he murmured against Ben's lips.
There was an insult there, Ben was certain of it, but Hux's tongue was ghosting across the seam of his lips and all he could do was part them to let it in. Hux kissed with finesse, his tongue twisting against Ben's own, pulling back dexterously to brush their lips softly against each other, then diving back in. Before long Ben was panting, lips red and sensitive.
Hux pushed him down to the bed again, and sat astride his lap, Ben's dick flushed and hot and pressed up against his ass again.
"What else," Ben said. He reached out and wrapped a hand around Hux's dick. Hux bucked up into it. "What else have you put in yourself? Did you think about me while you did it?"
"I have … toys," Hux said after a moment. His eyes were squeezed shut. His dick felt so, so hot in Ben's hand. "And fingers. Of course. I've thought about your fingers." His hips stuttered; Ben could feel it.
Ben sucked in a deep breath. "Can I do that? Can I do that now? Can I … finger you?" It sounded stupid once it was out of his mouth; fingering was what you did to girls. But Hux didn't seem to think it was a bad idea. Or maybe it was the way that Ben was stroking his dick that had his head rolled back on his shoulders.
"Yes," Hux said, surprising him, and "yes, please." He reached for Ben.
Ben instinctively tightened his grip at the light touch on his wrist, and Hux let out a sound that was almost a whimper. "Ben," Hux gasped out, and Ben recognized the touch for what it was. He let go, feeling the velvet soft skin of Hux's dick whisper against his palm.
Hux got up and crossed the room, the brisk assurance of his walk. Even nude, he had composure Ben could never hope to match. There was nothing particularly notable about his ass, as asses went, but Ben found himself unable to look away.
Hux threw open the doors to his closet and knelt inside.
"Is that a safe?"
Hux looked up over his shoulder, faint irritation on his features. "I don't want my father finding my sex toys," he said, as if it ought to have been obvious. "He thinks it's drugs, I'm pretty sure. I hope."
Ben craned his neck, but couldn't quite see the closet door. Whatever Hux had in there, beyond what he decided to show Ben now, would remain a mystery. The safe slammed shut with a heavy clank.
Hux came back to bed with a bottle of lubricant and a box of single-use gloves, maybe the same ones they'd used to dye Ben's hair its shiny black.
Hux made that exasperated face again. "I keep clean, but it's a matter of sanitation."
Ben's eyes widened slightly. This was, he realized, very much happening. He pulled a glove from the box, and snapped it on.
The lube was thicker than he'd expected, cool even through the latex. He had no idea if it was supposed to warm; he didn't use this sort of thing. He'd never touched himself the way Hux had and he got lost momentarily in a dreamy vision of Hux on his back, in this very room, damp with sweat and red from exertion, a glove in place as he reached behind one of his skinny thighs to breach himself with his own fingers, to bring himself off like a girl might, two fingers pushing forward and retreating in an estimation of sex. They were going to have sex. Ben poured more lube over his hand. He and Hux had similarly long fingers, but Ben’s knuckles suddenly looked alarmingly thick to him.
“How do you want to…” Ben trailed off and gestured vaguely at Hux with his dry hand.
“Like this,” Hux said, and lowered himself onto his back. He pulled a pillow under his slim hips and bent one knee, affording Ben a wholly unobstructed view of his ass. Hux kept his auburn pubic hair neatly trimmed, which Ben already knew from previous encounters, but he was surprised to see just how far that grooming went. Everything beyond Hux’s delicate looking testicles was smooth and pale. Ben swallowed.
“While we’re still young,” Hux said, tugging lightly at the head of his cock with his thumb and two fingers.
Ben drew in a deep breath. He circled one finger around the rim of Hux's asshole. He could hear Hux suck in a breath.
"Ben," Hux snapped, and Ben pushed the tip of his finger inside. His eyes flicked up to Hux's face, just briefly. Hux's eyes were shut tight, his lips a thin line. Ben looked back to Hux's ass, the way it swallowed up his finger. He pushed it further inside, wiggling it slightly. Hux made a soft ah noise under his breath. Ben pulled his finger out to the tip and pushed it back in, further this time.
He fucked Hux with one finger, slowly and steadily. Hux's hips squirmed on the pillow. Ben pulled his finger out and lined up another, pushed in just as slowly.
"Is this good," he breathed out, barely a question. He looked up to see Hux nod.
"Good," Hux said, and smiled. "You can do another."
Ben's eyes widened. "Already?"
Ben thought again of Hux alone in his room, bent double, doing this to himself. How many of his own fingers could he fit in? Did his arms hurt from it? Did he truly think of Ben, while he did it?
He pulled his fingers out and drizzled more lube onto the glove. It was growing hot, faintly unpleasant around his hand, and he wondered if someday he might be allowed to do this without. To feel Hux stretch and reform around his bare fingers.
He pulled three of those fingers into a tight little knot, pinky folded awkwardly outside, and pushed back in. Hux said ah! again, louder this time. Ben spread his fingers, inside, and Hux let out a long moan. It felt like permission and Ben began to fuck his fingers in and out of Hux, watching Hux move under him. He was captivated by the way Hux's hole clenched around his fingers, sucked them up greedily.
"You look," he began, and stopped. Hux snorted.
"Wonderful, I'm sure," Hux finished for him, voice both droll and slightly tense.
Ben shook his head. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He crooked his fingers and Hux arched up beneath him.
"Ah!—good," Hux said, "good, right there."
Ben moved his fingers the same way, and was rewarded with Hux's whole body twitching. He looked up at Hux's face. Hux's eyes were still squeezed tight, the ghost of a smile on his face.
Ben continued stroking his fingers across Hux's prostate—for that must have been what he'd found, what was making Hux's face grow slowly lax, making his jaw loosen.
"More," Hux said finally. "Please, Ben."
Ben straightened up, and the shift of his arm caused Hux to let out a low groan. He pulled his fingers out and his other hand found his own hard dick. "Do you—do you want me to. Should I—"
Hux stilled. "Can I," he said quietly, after a pause. "Can you … another finger. Please."
Ben stared down at him. "Are you sure?"
"Please," Hux grit out, like it pained him to say it. "Please, let me feel it. Let me feel … you."
And that was enough, enough for Ben. That Hux wanted him like this. The thought that Hux could never get enough of his own fingers inside himself, that his toys weren't enough to satisfy. That he wanted, needed, Ben.
"Of course," he said. He slicked up his gloved hand again, and squeezed his fingers together tightly, ignoring the cramp that threatened to build there. Slowly, slowly, he pushed in.
Hux exhaled all in a rush. Ben tore his eyes away from where his fingers disappeared into Hux's body and looked up at his face. A delicate flush graced Hux's cheeks. His eyes were crinkled shut, and his lovely hair was a shock of red against the dove-pale sheets. Ben's eyes flitted down again, to the reddened rim of Hux's hole where it stretched around him.
"Hux," he breathed out. Hux just moaned softly in response, his hips twitching slightly, pulling Ben's fingers further in. He pressed down on Hux's prostate and watched Hux's dick jump.
Four fingers in. Four. He couldn't believe—he'd never even dreamed—but Hux had. Hux had dreamed of this, thought about Ben's fingers inside him. He was pale and trembling under Ben, eyes closed, his head thrown back, the long line of his neck exposed. Ben wanted to lean in and kiss it, but he didn't want to move from where he was.
"Ben," Hux said faintly, "move."
Slowly, Ben obeyed. He pushed in as deep as he could, pushed a moan out of Hux. Then he pulled slowly out again, trailing his fingers over Hux's prostate.
"Shit, Ben," Hux said, and Ben stilled. He'd never heard Hux’s normally clipped, affected voice sound quite so human. Hux was a great many things, but rarely was he exposed and unprotected, delicate. He seemed that way now, laid bare and at Ben’s mercy. Ben could hurt him like this. He wouldn't. But he could.
“Hux, I—” Ben swallowed. “That's four fingers.” He pressed in as deeply as he could, so his thumb crooked up behind Hux’s drawn-tight balls as if to prove a point and show Hux just how much of Ben’s hand had somehow found its way inside him. Hux’s response was to moan and drop his knee to the side like he was giving Ben a better view on purpose. Ben licked his lips and considered dropping forward on his belly and tasting the place where his flesh met Hux’s. Maybe licking up past his palm.
“Ben,” Hux said again, a plea. His eyes were still closed. “Could you. I've thought about having all of you. Inside me.”
“All of me?”
“Your whole ridiculous hand,” Hux said. “You could. You could have me on your fist. I know you'd like that.” His tone was knowing, maybe even a little bit haughty, but Ben suddenly got the sense that Hux didn't want to look at him and see his response. That maybe Hux, for once, was a little bit ashamed.
“I'd hurt you,” Ben said. “And my hand is a lot bigger than my dick.”
“I know that, and you won't.” Hux shifted downward rather forcefully as if to prove a point. “I know what I can take.”
“Baby,” Ben said—and Hux gasped, a short, sharp thing, at the endearment—“God, I want that. I want whatever you want.”
Ben pulled his fingers from Hux’s body and in their absence his pink-red hole gaped just a little, glistening in invitation. Hux had a ragdoll quality to him, his head lolling to the side as he instructed Ben to use much more lube then he had so far.
“Just pour it on me,” Hux said, shifting his hips upward for a better angle. Then he threw his head back and Ben watched with borderline desperate fascination as the shiny, clear liquid slid into Hux’s waiting body and then lewdly down his thighs and the cleft of his ass. They would need to wash this pillow case.
"How do I—" Ben started, and trailed off. Hux was so open beneath him, wet and sore-looking, and he couldn't look away. He hooked the tip of his middle finger into Hux, listened to his sharp intake of breath.
"Just," Hux grit out. "Like you did before. Please, Ben, please."
"Okay," Ben said, “okay,” and lightly stroked Hux's thigh with his other palm. He took his finger back and looked down at his gloved hand, curled it into a fist and really stared at it. He had already breached Hux to his palm, but the idea of fitting the ridged line of his knuckles into him felt like craziness. Hux was so tremendously small, not much shorter than Ben by any means, but his stomach was flat and slightly concave; the topography of his ribs was visible with him on his back like this, and his thighs were so slender that Ben suspected he could ring each of them with his hands, maybe even span the whole of Hux’s waist if he squeezed slightly.
Hux lifted his head up and looked at him, lower lip pulled between his teeth. “Ben,” he said. “Don't make me wait.”
Ben nodded, his eyes an apology, then he flattened his hand, pulled his fingers into a little triangle and folded his thumb against his palm. Anxiety forced him to add more lube. He wanted to do this, he wanted to see Hux as open as he could be, open in a way he hadn't been for Ben yet; and he wanted to fill Hux up until Hux could barely take it. He wanted to fill whatever spaces Hux was willing to give him. Ben suppressed a shiver and pressed the tips of his fingers against Hux again. He pushed very slightly. He could feel the tremble in Hux's thighs and the tight muscle of his hole constrict.
"Baby," he said again, thinking of how many times he'd considered calling Hux baby. “I’ve got this. I’ve got you." He pushed his fingers in further. Up to the first knuckle. The second. Up to his palm, and his breath caught in his throat. The bony nub of his thumb nudged up against Hux.
"Are you sure…" he said quietly, and before Hux could even reply he pushed.
"I'm—ah!" Hux shuddered beneath him, his back bowing, his hip bones reaching up into his skin.
Ben tore his gaze away from his hand to look at Hux’s face. He had one arm flung over his eyes and his mouth was open, lips pulled as taut as the skin around Ben’s hand. Hux was a delicate pink all down his chest. Ben flexed his fingers experimentally and Hux shivered again, his breath leaving him all in a gasp.
"Are you okay?" Ben looked up again to see Hux give a shaky nod. Hux’s other hand, Ben realized, was gripping his thigh like a vice, and Ben was in, inside Hux, just the heel of his hand protruding from Hux's body. He didn't move, he felt that he couldn't. He could only stare at the place where his hand disappeared and watch as Hux regulated his breathing and relaxed into the breach, like he was rearranging himself around Ben. “Does it—does it feel good?”
"I've," Hux said after a moment. He took a shaky breath. "I've thought about this. Before. Thought of taking you—God, Ben—thought of you inside me."
"Yeah?" Ben asked, surprised to hear how rough his own voice sounded.
"Yes. Thought about you fucking me. Touched myself and thought about—thought about your big dick inside me. You're so big, Ben, god. All of you."
"Thought about this?" Ben asked. He inched his hand forward.
Hux’s back managed to bow further, his eyelashes trembling against his cheeks. Ben’s hand closed naturally into a loose fist with the motion, and Hux made a gut-wrenching sound, like nothing Ben had ever heard in his life, raw and primordial, as though he were an animal caught in a snare. Ben could barely look away from his wrist, hardly able to comprehend the fact that he was, in this moment, physically a part of Hux. He felt a thousand years older than eighteen; his own breath was staccato and frantic, and when he closed his eyes just for a moment, he saw stars, whole galaxies exploding behind his eyelids.
“Oh, fucking God, fucking hell—” Hux moaned.
"Fucking hell," Ben echoed, breathless.
He wasn't sure what to do, how to move—this wasn't in any of the porn he'd watched, this wasn't his fantasy. He was captivated by the heat enveloping his hand, by the press of flesh against his wrist, it was beyond anything he could have imagined. Slowly, he rotated his wrist and beneath him, Hux let out a breathy sound and went completely boneless, his head turned from side to side languidly, and his mouth contorted into a wobbly, open frown that could have meant pleasure or pain or both.
"Tell me how it feels," Ben whispered, suddenly and intensely emotional, a fierce desire to protect and please Hux surging through him.
Hux let out a soft, "Ben”. He took a deep breath, like he was trying to compose himself and squirmed, just slightly, on Ben's fist. "You feel amazing.” Hux’s voice sounded thick. There were tears sliding off his cheeks. Ben had never seen him cry before. "You feel so—big, so impossibly big. Inside me. It's so much, Ben, it's—so much."
"Too much?" Ben asked quickly, stilling his gentle movements. His eyes flitted up to Hux's face. Hux shook his head, as well as he could with his head tucked into his elbow, arms splayed over the pillows.
“Fuck me, a little,” Hux said.
Ben pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration and, bracing his other hand upon the bed by Hux’s hip, he set about shifting his fist back towards himself and pushing forward again with equal care. Hux sobbed, and his legs trembled. Against his very pale stomach, his erection was a needy looking red, brighter at the tip and wet with the precome that Ben must have been forcing from him. For a moment, Ben almost thought he could see his fist inside Hux from the outside, see his knuckles behind Hux’s tender belly skin. It wasn't possible, and yet, he felt so far inside Hux, and Hux was so very small, that it seemed it might be if he went just a little deeper. He kept moving, slowly, pushing in and pulling back, tiny shifts that felt impossibly magnified inside the heat of Hux's body. Each time he pushed forward Hux let out another tiny sob, like it had been punched out of him.
"I can't—" Hux said finally, and Ben stilled. It was his instinct to pull out as fast as possible, but he stopped himself, knew that that would only hurt. Hux didn't say anything else. When Ben looked at him, he was crying soundlessly. Then, Hux cracked an eye open, lifted his head just enough to stare down at Ben. Even red-faced and teary, he managed to look imperious. "Why did you stop?" he asked.
“You said—” Ben stared at him.
“I can't believe you’re—” Hux’s voice broke, and he shuddered, clenching around Ben’s wrist. Ben’s thumb was pressed into a nubby spot inside him that must have been his prostate, and Ben shifted his thumb lightly, rubbing against it. Hux’s eyes rolled back and all Ben could see was white before Hux was coming, his fingers spasming against the pillows, while he seemed to be possessed, taken over fully by his orgasm, a long low sound, and vaguely pained, spilling past his sharp mouth and into the thick air between them.
Ben’s own eyes felt saucer-wide and he didn't let himself blink until Hux was shivering and telling him to add more lube to his wrist and pull out all the way. With very little care for Hux’s pristine room, Ben shucked off the glove as soon as his hand was free and fell onto Hux, gathering him into his long arms and pressing them together, the come splatted across Hux’s chest and abdomen slick between them. Ben’s face found the crook of Hux’s damp neck and his leg hooked over Hux’s waist of its own accord.
“Get off,” Hux said weakly, sniffling and tapping Ben’s shoulder like that could move him.
“No,” said Ben. “You need this.” He was tearing up as well.
“Shut up, Hux. Just shut up.”
Hux quieted, his arms came around Ben’s shoulders and clung to him. “Thank you,” he whispered, once he had composed himself.
Ben missed the broken-glass edge to his voice immediately. He felt, with a bone-deep surety, that he was now spoiled for life, that he would spend the rest of his days attempting to get back where he'd just been with Hux, and that somehow it had filled an empty part of him as well, like he had been tried and for once, not found wanting. Very little mattered aside from Hux and this room and the places their bodies touched, which was everywhere.
“Do you want me to suck you off?” Hux asked.
“I'm staying the weekend,” Ben mumbled. “There's time.”