The doors slid shut behind Hux with a soothing whisper, blessedly locking out the rest of the ship. He allowed himself to lean against the cool metal panels for a moment before continuing on into his rooms and relishing the quiet. His evening routine was simple and ingrained, little more than a linear sequence of actions by rote. His coat on the custom hook by the door, his gloves removed with a sharp tug along each finger. His hat, usually placed carefully beside the gloves on a small table, remained tonight in defiance of regulations.
The bedroom sparse but well-appointed, the bed crisp and military sharp. Boots, unlaced, and for now unpolished, sat neatly against the wall. Breaching his own protocol was part of this particular evening's itinerary. Rising from his perch along the side of the mattress, Hux pressed a small decorative octagon in the wall beside the refresher door, revealing a full length mirror. He was well acquainted with his own vanity, but that didn't mean anyone else needed to be.
He studied his reflection, uniform neat and pressed even after a double shift on the bridge. Hux typically spent at least twice the amount of time on duty than what he required from his other officers. More often than not he was simply unaware of the passage of hours while he studied navigational charts and signed off on crew reports from each and every sector. Increasingly, his time spent off the bridge had been devoted to designing and evaluating schematics for the new base, but not tonight.
Tonight, Hux had an unopened bottle of scotch, a pack of slender savorium cigarras, and 20 marks before he had to show his face on the bridge. The possibilities were endless. Well, not precisely, Hux revised, his fingers pausing at the clasp of his belt. The evening would allow for much more variation if he wasn't planning on being alone for his intemperance. Unfortunately, he didn't trust any of his officers – or crew, for that matter – to remain silent in the wake of a liaison, even with the threat of immediate demotion hanging over their head. One of his father's more bizarre mantras flickered through his mind: two may keep a secret if one of them is dead. Hux supposed termination via airlock was always a possibility, but then he'd have to file paperwork.
Even he had to admit that there was nothing sexually enticing about paperwork.
Hux flicked the metal release on his belt with his thumb and let it fall to the floor. Sliding two fingers beneath the edges of his collar, he ran them along the skin beneath, pulling the fabric tight against his throat. He swallowed at the pressure and popped the fastener at his neck. Drawing one hand through the seam along his chest, he pried the magnetic closures apart and let the stiff grey jacket hang open. Watching his reflection, Hux slowly stroked his fingers down what lay beneath.
The corset had been crafted by a lovely woman on Jelucan who had taken his measurements without batting an eye. Waist training was more common in some systems than others, but Hux primarily craved the compression and support a corset provided. This was easily the most decorative of his wardrobe, sleek grey fabric piped in crimson along the bones. The First Order insignia sat proudly on each side panel in a shocking concession to his own ego. Hux deeply desired the chance to show it off, to display his loyalty in hand-stitched detail, but also feared the intimacy such an encounter would require.
Airlocks, Hux reminded himself. Paperwork.
He slid the jacket off his shoulders and folded it in half, laying it across the bed. A thin, sleeveless chemise in matching crimson lay beneath the underbust, providing a pleasant friction where the corset brushed against his nipples. Having worn it for the better part of a regulation cycle, his nipples were hard, swollen ridges beneath the silk. Hux brushed his thumb across first one and then the other. His lips parted as the sweet ache that had building for hours turned sharp and searing at his touch.
His trousers were next on the list. Hux unclasped the closures on each side and slid them down over his hips, revealing the rest of the corset and a swatch of red lace beneath. Once they were folded and laid out beside his jacket, Hux turned back to the mirror to admire the full effect of his secret extravagance. He slid his hand down along his right hip and over the high lace briefs, brushing his inner thigh. They were just tight enough to allow for moderate comfort while still providing restriction. Hux lifted up onto the balls of his feet and pivoted, examining the way the lace curved up in the back to leave a large portion of his ass exposed. Thin black garters disappeared beneath the corset, attaching to dark mesh stockings rising well above the knee. Hux prided himself on the lack of runs in the hosiery, remaining whole and intact after long hours spent pacing the bridge.
His hand still resting between his thighs, Hux slid his thumb upward in a slow arc until it brushed the base of his cock. He bit his lip at the sensation that jolted through his nerves like lightning. He'd been half hard for most of the day, promising himself a slow, thorough release once he was alone. Hux briefly considered axing the 'slow' portion of that wish in favor of more immediate gratification, but decided in favor of the long game.
Opening the panel that contained his closet, Hux fitted his jacket and pants onto their proper hangars, then retrieved a small wooden box. He moved aside a row of clean, stiffly pressed jackets and reached past, pulling out a pair of black stiletto pumps. Turning them up to the light, he admired their sleek, clean lines and dragged one sharp heel along the flesh of his palm. Sliding his feet into the shoes, Hux raised each foot up against the mattress and fastened the tiny buckles on the ankle straps. He shifted a bit to balance his weight and took one more look in the mirror.
He was almost perfect. One last foray into the closet produced a pair of black opera gloves, the soft matte fabric turning to lace above the elbow. They slid easily over his hands, a pleased hum escaping his mouth as the silk lining caressed his skin. His cock twitched, and Hux allowed himself a single stroke across the lace from base to tip. He moaned at the sensation, the flat of his palm lingering against his swollen head. A wave of dizziness flooded his senses and Hux pressed his hand to the mirror for support. “Not yet,” he murmured aloud. Wait.
Hux shook his head to clear it and straightened his back. After a few minutes of shuffling in cabinets and arguing with the apartment's central console, Hux was more or less comfortably ensconced in his lounge. It was really just an extendable arm chair with a bit of padding, but sometimes semantics were everything. The lights were set low, and the ceiling vents opened wide to filter the smoke from his cigarras. A series of atonal chirps signaled the computer's reluctant choice to read the chip Hux had selected and he nodded, as if the console required validation. The dark swell of a water organ soon filled the room, accompanied by a swooning bass-viol and concertinium in counterpoint. It was one of his favorite jatz compositions, and the variations on its central theme ran for a good three hours.
A generous portion of aged Corellian scotch sat in a heavy tumbler on a small end table, the dark-tinted glass engraved with the former Imperial seal. Hux aimed a light kick at the shallow metal bowl sat between the lounge and two chairs. The gesture summoned a blue-white flame that burned low around a tarnished sphere, giving off the barest suggestion of heat.
The wooden box sat open beside the glass, containing ten hand-rolled cigarras from stars only knew where. He hadn't asked, and the supplier hadn't revealed her sources. Savorium was a common enough trade in certain quarters of the Unknown Regions, but here among the worlds of the Outer Rim it seemed scarce. The blend was heavy on tabac as he preferred, so as not to take complete leave of his senses. Hux held even his vices to exacting standards.
He lifted a rectangular lighter from the box, the metal scored and burnished from wear. He'd found the relic in a military cache on Rakata Prime and appropriated it for his own use. It smelled corrosive and familiar, resting perfectly between his fingers. Hux flipped up the lid and struck the flint, touching the flame to the end of the cig with a brief inhalation to catch the herbs alight.
He let his mind drift as the deep blue smoke filled his mouth, drawing it into his lungs and exhaling a narrow stream. It smelled like fallen leaves and rich, red wine. The music washed over him in multicolored waves and Hux sank into it, each layer a distinct texture against his skin. A light euphoria settled deep into his bones and his muscles began to relax as the savorium did its work. Time seemed to unspool as the cigarra burned low.
He stared out across the windows that divided the stars into neat triangles and imagined his demesne expanding, piece by piece, to include every single one. The thought was more intoxicating than any chemical could ever be. Hux pressed two fingers from his free hand against a knot at the base of his neck, but the satin slipped and slid against his skin. His hand traveled down along the lace chemise and pushed one strap off his shoulder. Flicking his left nipple, Hux breathed out a long, low moan wreathed in smoke.
He abandoned the cigarra to a small ashtray, burned nearly down to the filter. Hux let his mind drift while his hands roamed across the corset, tracing the strict lines of the stays. He pressed down hard, constricting his breath. When he reached his hips, Hux slid his fingers beneath one garter and stroked his balls through the lace. A high-pitched noise exited his mouth and ended in a gasp. His unoccupied hand traveled the length of his cock, now hard and flushed, giving it a quick squeeze. His eyes rolled back, and Hux gave in to the impulse urging completion.
A violent noise shocked him alert just as his thumb reached the taut line of skin beneath his head. His eyes flew open and he blinked away a thin film, struggling to see clearly. The noise resolved in the direction of the door and Hux relocated his hand with some difficulty. He couldn't stop a small sound of disappointment at the loss of contact. A distorted chime echoed through the apartment, breaking through the sultry flow of music. The doors shuddered open with a squeal of protest and Hux's worst nightmare came true.
He squinted at the harsh invasion of light from the corridor. It was loud and uncomfortable, needling his skin with almost physical pain. Hux's brain felt like an engine that just wouldn't crank, unable to process the flood of new information. He fumbled for another cig, needing to occupy his hands. From where he reclined, Lord Kylo Ren made for a striking silhouette against the glare and Hux let his mind stall out.
“General,” Ren barked from the threshold. He pulled up short after one step as if met with an invisible wall. His head tilted to one side, and for a brief moment Hux was grateful he couldn't see the knight's face. This was going to require careful diplomacy.
“Yes?” Hux questioned, hoping for boredom but winding up on the side of curiosity. Ren did not reply, nor move a muscle. “Doors have locks for a reason, you know.” Hux continued, striving to keep the petulance from his tone. He wouldn't give Ren the satisfaction of seeing his embarrassment. He realized that his face was doubtless flushed for more reasons than one, but stubbornness won out. If he could keep a civil tone with a visible erection beneath lacy undergarments, Hux figured he could deal with anything.
“In or out?” Hux asked, throwing the battle with annoyance. “Pick one and close the goddamn door.” Ren took a hesitant step inside the apartment, waving the doors closed behind him. The metal panels slid shut with a squeal that made Hux wince. He felt a slight tickle against his thoughts and angrily pushed it away.
“Stop that,” he snapped. Hux had made it very clear that his mind was off-limits to Ren's prying. As usual, the knight hadn't taken it to heart. “And take off that ridiculous thing,” Hux said, gesturing in Ren's general direction with the unlit cigarra. He seriously doubted that whatever information Ren came to relay was important enough to warrant the intrusion, but all the same Hux would rather hear it from the man and not the mask.
Miraculously, Ren did as he was told. He pulled back the fraying hood and pressed the release valves on either side of the mask. Lifting it up, he gave a slight shake of his head. Just like an ill-trained dog, Hux thought. Barreling in uninvited to track its filth across his floor. When he found a technician to repair the door, he would be certain to install a secondary lock, if not a third as well.
Ren moved to rest his helmet on a low hanging shelf. Hux redirected his gaze from Ren's boots back up to his face and blinked in surprise. His hair was pulled back along the top and sides in four thick braids and Hux stared, arrested by the sight. He looked – softer, somehow, and yet strangely appealing. Hux did not like soft edges. He did not prefer gentleness. Hux glanced down at the cigarra between his fingers and offloaded the blame for his frankly absurd thoughts.
Hux lifted the cig to his lips and reached for his lighter without taking his gaze from Ren. Before he could snap it open, a small flame licked at the paper, disappearing back into the ether as soon as the leaves caught. A look of alarm crossed Ren's face as if Hux might be concealing some other Force-user in the room. It was a bit terrifying, Hux thought, that Ren could pull fire from the air without even paying attention. He realized that he had yet to taste his scotch and now might be a good time to start.
Hux took a deep drag from the cigarra instead, tilting his head back against the cushion. The brim of his hat slid down to rest just above his eyes. Ren watched him almost warily, making slow progress across the entryway. He took a circuitous path to arrive near the base of the lounge, his eyes sweeping along Hux's prone form from nearly every angle. He felt exposed and strangely enough, admired. Perhaps he shouldn't have lit that second smoke, after all.
“Your senses are – altered,” Ren said with obvious confusion. He seemed to squint a bit at the cig in Hux's fingers.
“Yes,” Hux answered, rolling his eyes. “That's rather the point.” He gestured grandly with the cigarra, then brought it to his lips.
“I've never known your mind to be anything but sharp,” Ren pressed, and Hux was well finished with this line of discussion.
“Sometimes I get tired of being sharp,” Hux explained, clothing his words in smoke. He'd intended the reply to be snappish with offense taken, but instead it came out a bit wistful. How embarrassing. “Did you actually want something?” Hux asked impatiently. Ren's very presence in the room was a heinous violation of his privacy, and Hux still wasn't certain why he continued to allow it. If Ren had ever plotted his murder, now would be the time to strike.
“Your gloves,” Ren answered after a long pause. He sounded almost awed and it took Hux a moment to make the jump from his possible assassination to what Ren had just asked. “I removed my mask for you,” Ren elaborated, as if that explained everything.
Hux's breath caught in his throat. This was definitely a game he could play, but he wasn't sure that he ought. There were guidelines, protocols – many of which they'd just broken by even having this conversation. Hux wasn't certain any of the rules had ever applied to Kylo Ren, but he was of the opinion that they most certainly should. He didn't relish the idea of explaining to Snoke that his pet had accidentally tripped and fallen out the airlock.
I won't tell if you won't. The thought seemed to shimmer in the air, and fuck, if this wasn't a bad idea. He couldn't deny that he'd thought about it, once or twice, or maybe more than twice, but the scenario had never run like this. Ren's lips curved in an all too familiar smirk, and Hux almost threw him out right then and there. Almost. Fantasies aside, Hux had never imagined his casual interest might actually be returned.
Please? The intention behind the word pushed against his mind. It felt far closer than the last, as though Ren were standing directly beside him. The request had a needy quality about it that went straight to Hux's cock and decided the issue.
Hux propped the cigarra against the ashtray and tugged gently on the fingers of his right glove. They slid out easily, the lace along the band scratching gently against his skin. He repeated the action with the left glove, and set them both on the table. Ren's eyes tracked his movements as Hux retrieved the cigarra and lifted it to his mouth. He breathed in the smoke, deciding which item Ren should remove. Well, first things first.
“Your cape,” Hux said with a bit of a sneer. Ren curved his lips in a slight smile, inclining his head toward Hux. The game was on, then.
He unwound the fraying fabric and draped it over an armchair. Hux began to realize just how many layers Ren was going to have to remove before he even approached Hux's state of undress. So be it, Hux thought. He never could back down from a challenge.
“Your shoes next,” Ren decided, giving the heels an approving once-over.
Hux made a considering hum. “You're going to have to do that for me,” he said a bit imperiously. “I can't quite reach the buckles.” Hux lifted his left foot a few inches in the air.
Ren gave a deferential nod. He knelt beside the chaise and cupped Hux's left ankle in one gloved hand, sliding his fingers down the arch of the heel. He turned Hux's foot slightly to the outside, brushing his nose along the instep. Hux shivered and felt Ren's smile as his lips pressed against the stockings. That was progress, Hux thought. At least they weren't going to turn this into a staring contest.
Ren's hand slid up the back of his calf and Hux felt an odd tug on the ankle strap. He watched as the buckle opened itself, the thin leather strap pulling free of the tongue. “That's cheating,” Hux said a bit breathlessly.
“My hands are too big for the clasp,” Ren replied, stroking his index and middle fingers along the sensitive skin behind Hux's knee. Hux had spent a fair amount of time thinking about those hands, wondering if they were calloused from training or smooth like his own. How much skin they would cover given the chance. What they might feel like wrapped around his cock or pressed against his -
“Unless you want me to take off my gloves as well?” Ren suggested, sounding as if he knew exactly what Hux was thinking. Perhaps he did. Perhaps Hux should give him more ideas.
“Leave them on,” Hux allowed, and took another drag from the cigarra to slow his train of thought. Those hands were doing just fine where they were, and if he was lucky, Hux would have an answer to his idle questions before long. Ren's fingers slid back down his stockings while his other hand wrapped around the shoe and slipped it gently from his foot. The buckle on his other pump was already working itself free, and Ren gently set Hux's foot down on the cushion.
His hands migrated across the space, sliding the shoe off as soon as the clasp fell open. Ren pressed his mouth to the black mesh covering Hux's ankle and worked his way up with his tongue. Hux breathed in with a sharp hiss and felt his balls tighten against his body. Ren lingered for a moment at his knee, stroking his fingers up Hux's thigh while licking delicately at the hollow there. Hux could feel the pattern of lace on his briefs imprinting on his cock and he reached down to adjust them. Ren smacked his hand away.
“Your robe,” Hux demanded quickly in response.
“I'd have to take my belt off first,” Ren replied, his tone light and teasing. Hux made an irritated sound.
“Fine then, your belt,” he conceded. Ren pushed back from the lounge and unhooked the wide strip, dropping it to the floor. It clattered against the metal tile as he leaned in again, brushing his lips across the lace that bounded the top of Hux's stockings. He slid a hand along Hux's inner thigh, running one finger beneath the delicate stitching. Hux reached down and wrapped a loose strand of Ren's hair around his fingers. He really did like the braids. They had a pleasing effect on his face.
Ren's fingers stopped their exploration of Hux's skin. “I don't think 'altered' was a strong enough word.”
“That sounds like jealousy talking,” Hux taunted him. “You're welcome to one if you like,” he offered, feeling generous. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the cigarras, sending a whorl of blue through the air.
“I'd prefer not,” Ren said, his eyes sliding past the silver case to land on the scotch. “I would join you in a drink, however.”
“It's a twenty-year Coronet. I doubt you'd appreciate its subtleties.”
Ren scoffed at this and reached for the glass, tilting it back to sniff at the contents. He paused, looking past the amber liquid to the design engraved on the side. Turning the glass around in his hand, he fixed Hux with a condescending smirk.
“For someone so fond of pointing out my delusions of grandeur, I believe your superiority might be slipping.” Hux glared and reached for the glass, but Ren held it just out of his reach. “I'm sorry, General.” Ren said, clearly meaning the opposite. “Did I offend those delicate sensibilities of yours?”
“I am not given to sensibility,” Hux snapped.
Ren swept his eyes along Hux's reclining figure, flicking up to the cigarra still held between his third and index fingers. “Oh, I think you are,” he said, his voice a low purr. He took a sip from the glass and regarded it with a pleasant sort of surprise. He then leaned over and pressed the cool glass against Hux's lips. Hux opened his mouth, and Ren gave him a taste, pouring the scotch over his tongue. Hux gave an appreciative hum, biting his lower lip once Ren pulled the glass away.
“That's enough for now,” Ren murmured, replacing the glass on the table. “You didn't invite me in for a drink.”
“I didn't invite you anywhere,” Hux muttered.
“Didn't you?” Ren asked, the smirk returning. It was absolutely ruinous to his features, Hux thought sullenly. “General, you've been inviting me over for months.”
It didn't even occur to Hux to deny Ren's claim. More often than not, he dreamed of strong hands and sharp teeth. “So you pick one night when I specifically did not want your company to barge in unannounced?”
Ren was a portrait of smug satisfaction. “You know I never listen to you,” he said, tilting his head to match the sly curve of his lips.
“Maybe you should start,” Hux growled. He dropped the cig in the ashtray and grabbed Ren's hand in a painful grip. At Ren's raised eyebrow, Hux guided his hand back down and pressed his palm over the soft mesh just above his knee. Ren's fingers curved against his thigh, the leather warm over his skin, and Hux's eyelids fluttered shut. You're here now, do something about it.
Ren made a seductive sound deep in his throat and Hux assumed that meant he'd heard. When Ren spoke, his voice was thick. “I had thought such fraternization to be...ill advised,” he said, his tone conveying just the opposite.
“And now?” Hux asked, guiding Ren's hand farther along his leg. He pressed Ren's fingers gently against the clasp where the garter met his stockings and Ren's lips parted, taking in a shallow breath.
“I may have reconsidered.” His fingers hovered above the small metal clip. Hux resorted to begging. Do something, he thought, his mouth still shut against the words. Ren made a low, hungry sound and squeezed the clip. The garter pulled free, and he followed the ribbon up to where it hooked beneath the corset.
“Those count,” Hux declared, his words thin and hoarse. Ren appeared to ponder the statement before nodding and removing the matching garter. He laid them out on the table beside the gloves and looked up at Hux for instructions with a wide-eyed, impudent expression.
“Now take off that damn tunic,” Hux ordered, and Ren sat up to comply. He raised the fabric up over his head and struggled a bit to remove the sleeveless garment. The fabric was heavy and Hux considered trying to help before rejecting the idea. Watching Ren wriggle and squirm was far too entertaining. He seemed to find some sort of catch eventually, and the pile of black cloth slithered off his frame. The ruched fabric beneath it clung to his skin.
“Wearing all that has to be stifling,” Hux said, his disappointment at Ren's cumbersome layers dragging him out of his haze.
“Your ship is freezing,” Ren countered.
Hux frowned. “You do realize we're surrounded by the yawning void of space?”
Ren declined to answer, running his hands up one stocking and hooking his fingers around the top. He slid the mesh down over Hux's leg, trailing kisses along the stretch of exposed skin left behind. Hux's pulse raced and his breath stuttered in his throat. Dropping the stocking on the floor beside the chaise, Ren started in on its match. His hands moved tortuously slow, his mouth tracing a hot, wet path behind each new inch of exposed skin. Any further comments on Ren's wardrobe were lost to harsh breaths and stifled moans.
Ren paused, pressing his lips to the top of Hux's right foot. After a moment he pulled away from the couch and Hux followed him, arching off the cushions to drag Ren back between his legs. “Shirt,” he said, working his hands beneath the material and sliding them up Ren's chest. Ren closed his eyes, biting his lip when Hux grazed his nipples. He let Hux tug the shirt over his head and toss it across the room. The hat slid from Hux's head and bounced once on the cushions before Ren caught it and gently settled it back in place. His words drifted across the surface of Hux's mind, hot and insistent. I like it.
Hux gave a pleased hum at the reaction and reached down to palm Ren's cock through his trousers. The fabric was softer than Hux would have thought, and Ren rolled his hips into his touch. His breath caught as Hux pressed his thumb against his length and stroked upward, brushing hard over the head. Ren groaned and Hux gave one more quick swipe before slipping his hand beneath Ren to cup his balls. He whined and shuddered at the attention, but stopped Hux's left hand from tugging at his waistband. He took a deep, steadying breath and refocused his attention, his gaze settling on Hux's lips.
Hux retrieved the cigarra from the ashtray and took another drag, exhaling a thin stream of smoke toward Ren. He leaned over Hux on the lounge, plucking the cig from Hux's fingers and lifting it to his own lips. His eyes slid briefly shut at the taste. He wrapped one gloved hand around the back of Hux's neck and pulled him forward. Open, he ordered, and Hux parted his lips obediently. Ren leaned in close before exhaling the smoke into Hux's waiting mouth. Overwhelmed, Hux inhaled and did nothing to stop the helpless sounds leaving his throat in its wake.
Ren dropped the cigarra back into the ashtray and braced himself with one hand on the lounge while the other investigated Hux's corset. His fingers traced the outline of the Order insignia stitched into the fabric, watching Hux's face go slack at the attention. How vain you are, Ren thought, and dropped his head to lick at one nipple through the crimson silk. I like that, as well. Hux cried out, grabbing at Ren's hair. His hips bucked up, desperate for friction as Ren circled the other with his thumb. Ren arched away, giving the nipple a hard squeeze before moving to press Hux's hip firmly against the couch.
Hux's hands left Ren's hair to fumble with the clasps on the corset. He knew Ren hadn't named his choice yet, but Hux was extremely interested in removing what was still in the way. If he didn't get off soon, he might actually die from waiting. Ren watched him struggle with the binding, gone maddeningly still and refusing to help. The corset popped open as Hux unfastened the final hook with shaking fingers and Ren moved at last, running a hand down Hux's chest over the red chemise. He leaned back down to nip at Hux's neck while continuing to tease the hard and swollen nipples through the silk. Hux arched his back, his breathing shallow. His cock pulsed against the warm, wet restriction of his briefs and Hux rocked his hips, half mad from the lack of contact.
Ren's arousal enveloped his mind like a hot cloud, and Hux clawed at the stays, trying to struggle his way out. “Leave the corset,” Ren said, pressing the words into his skin. “Want you to wear it when I fuck you.”
Hux moaned, too far gone to be embarrassed by anything his body did at this point. “Something else you like, then?” he managed, pushing the words out between short hitched breaths.
“Very much.” Ren said, working the edges of the chemise up over Hux's chest. “Lift your arms,” he ordered, and Hux complied. The silken fabric slid easily over his skin and this time when the hat fell off, Ren was too busy to retrieve it. Having learned from recent successes, he left a trail of wet kisses along Hux's sternum then moved to take Hux's nipple back into his mouth. He tugged at it with his teeth, his tongue flicking out to lick beneath and Hux responded with a low, animal sound. Ren rolled the other nipple between his fingers and Hux's brain finally went offline. A short, desperate cry accompanied each shallow intake of breath and he urged Ren down his body with frantic, pleading thoughts.
Ren responded quickly. He ran his tongue along the length of Hux's cock beneath the lace before peeling it away from Hux's sweat-damp skin. Ren shoved the briefs down over his hips, tugging them down his thighs as Hux raised his knees to pull them the rest of the way off. Ren kissed the skin inside his hip, his braids brushing across Hux's swollen cock, and Hux wanted to scream. Turning his head, Ren's lips met his shaft and he licked his way up. He played with the foreskin, pushing it down and dragging it back up with his tongue to loud grunts of approval. Ren dipped into the slit once, then twice, before swallowing him down. Hux dimly registered the wonder that was Ren's complete lack of gag reflex before his vision went dark at the edges. His hips jerked when Ren moved one of his hands from holding Hux down to stroke the skin behind his sack, leather-sheathed fingers searching just far enough to brush against his hole. Hux jolted up and Ren choked as Hux's cock rammed down his throat.
Ren pulled off and Hux cried out at the loss of warm, wet pressure. Ren looked up as he curved his hand over Hux's balls and gripped the base of his cock, slow but firm. Hux's gaze was caught and he shivered, unable to look away. The lust in Ren's eyes as he dragged his glove along the shaft was nearly Hux's undoing. Ren worked the foreskin up over his head and back down at a glacial pace. He rotated his wrist, thumb flicking at the head before sliding back down, never breaking eye contact until he guided Hux's cock back into his mouth. A shudder wracked his body as the suction returned. Ren's efforts dragged a stream of inchoate sounds from his lips and Hux gripped the chair frame hard. His right hand fumbled along the braids in Ren's hair, tugging sharply.
“Kylo,” he begged, mindless of the name on his lips, the name Hux only called out in his fantasies. He rolled his hips forward again and again. “Fuck, Kylo – please – oh - ” Ren hummed around his cock and Hux came like a sun gone supernova, spilling hot and deep down Ren's throat as the world disappeared in a haze of white fire. Ren swallowed it down, sucking him through wave after wave of orgasm as his hips bucked and stuttered. Hux moaned, carding his fingers through the mess he'd made of Ren's hair. It was too much, it was frighteningly not enough, and he refused to think about why.
Ren's mouth continued to work, his tongue curling around Hux's cock as he flagged a bit, the shaft refusing to go entirely soft. Hux laid back and breathed, the room spinning, his skin still on fire. When he came back to himself, Ren had let his cock slip from the warmth of his mouth. He gave it a few gentle strokes, leather meeting oversensitive skin and Hux couldn't help but buck his hips at the blending of pleasure and pain. Ren rested his head against Hux's chest, sweat damp hair tickling his skin.
Neither of them moved for what seemed like an age. A steady thrum of want from Ren enveloped Hux, and he ran both hands along Ren's shoulders, moving down his back as far as he could reach to slide against the cooling sheen of sweat. He was dazed, his thoughts jumbled and incoherent. Ren lifted up, pressing his forehead against Hux's for a strange, intimate moment. A bead of sweat dripped from his hair to land on Hux's lips, and it tasted divine.
Ren peeled off his gloves, the lining sticking to his fingers and requiring several sharp tugs. Hux watched them go with a soft sigh of regret, but seeing Ren place them carefully over his own gloves on the table sparked an odd warmth in his gut. Ren drew his attention back by pulling the ends of the corset up and across Hux's chest, working each tiny hook through the matching eyelet with unbearable patience. It shouldn't have fit so perfectly after being undone, but the lacing at the back was tight, and Hux decided not to question Ren's skill.
Hux struggled to catch his breath, his cock still leaking against his thigh. Ren's arms wrapped around his back and Hux gasped in surprise as he was lifted from the couch. Ren set him on his feet, but Hux's knees were weak and Ren wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. “Bed,” Ren whispered against his ear and Hux hummed in agreement. Ren pressed their hips together and Hux's arms went around his shoulders. The corset rucked up, a hard rounded edge scraping just below his nipples and his cock gave an interested twitch. Ren pushed him toward the other room, and Hux would have been perfectly content to hit the wall instead of the mattress.
“Your boots,” Hux said with some confusion, his bare feet brushing against the worn leather. Ren made a soft noise of amusement against his skin.
“You never told me to take them off,” he replied, his breath hot against Hux's ear.
“We didn't really get that far.” Hux conceded. He buckled when the bed pressed against the back of his legs and Ren pushed him down hard enough to bounce. Yes.
Ren bent down to undo the series of straps securing his boots in place. He blew a stream of hot air along the inside of Hux's thigh, and he raised up on his elbows to watch Ren's progress. Ren slipped the boots off and kicked them out of the way. His trousers followed, exposing black briefs stretched tight across his hips, barely containing his erection. Hux licked his lips and let out a soft sound of approval.
“Tell me you have something,” Ren asked, standing between Hux's knees and spreading them wide. Hux nodded and glanced toward the metal stand beside the bed. Ren dragged his hand over Hux's cock before climbing over the bed to reach the drawer. He paused after opening it, and Hux belatedly remembered what other things he kept there.
Blessedly, Ren closed the drawer and crossed back to where Hux waited, a small bottle in one hand. At least it had seen some use, Hux thought. An unopened bottle would have just been embarrassing. Ren successfully derailed those thoughts by flicking at his left nipple before kneeling on the floor between his legs. Hux knew the metal tiles were cold and probably painful against Ren's knees. Good.
Ren slid his lips over the head of Hux's cock, urging along his arousal. His fingers traveled down to his hole and traced a slow circle around the opening, pulling a harsh noise from Hux. Ren gave his cock head a parting lick before working his way down. “Lift your knees,” he said, pushing at Hux's legs and he complied, pulling them up and spreading his legs as far as they would go. This would be humiliating if it wasn't so -
Fuck. So fucking good. Run's fingers pushed against the tight circle of muscle, slick and wet. Hux tried to relax against the pressure as Ren massaged his skin. It went on and on and Hux pressed the back of his head into the mattress at the sensation. The pad of Ren's thumb stroked up and down before slipping inside and Hux thrust against the intrusion, his spine arching nearly off the bed. Ren pushed in deeper and moved his thumb in an easy circle for what felt like years. Hux whimpered when he slid out and Ren nipped at the inside of his thigh. He heard a quiet snap and when Ren's hand returned, he slid two well-lubed fingers inside Hux with little difficulty. Ren began a slow rhythm, thrusting in and pulling back out. He buried his face in the triangle between Hux's groin and his thigh, licking and sucking at the skin. Ren's thrusts began to speed up, his fingers twisting to rub his knuckles against Hux's entrance in a different place each time. When he found what he'd been looking for, Ren crooked his fingers and stroked against the tight bundle of nerves, setting off a deep, slow burn between his hips.
Hux reached down to grab his cock, already hard and dripping from Ren's efforts. Ren reached across Hux's hip and covered his hand, guiding it up and back down with a searing bolt of pleasure. Hux made an angry sound in the back of his throat when Ren tugged his hand away and held it down against his hip. “Fuck me,” Hux pleaded, his voice raw.
“Not yet,” Ren said with obvious relish. “Want you to be ready for me.” Hux dug his fingers into the thin duvet beneath him, gripping and twisting the fabric in his hands. Ren's fingers moved inside Hux, sometimes hitting just the right spot, and sometimes drawing back, but never stopping. Hux exhaled a long moan and pushed back against Ren's thrusts, figuring if Ren wouldn't fuck him yet he'd do it himself. Ren's eyes lost their focus, watching Hux slide back and forth with undisguised desire. He pulled his hand back and pressed a third finger past Hux's entrance, working them side to side.
The stays pushed hard into Hux's ribs, the lower boundary of the corset digging into his groin just above his cock. He could hardly catch his breath, but he refused to ask Ren to loosen it. The pressure from above and below built inside him until it was almost too much, his mouth hanging open. Hux knew he was babbling, long streams of nonsense and obscenities directed in Ren's direction. When Ren pulled his fingers out and didn't push back in, Hux made a frustrated, guttural sound that seemed to echo throughout the room.
Ren rose up from the floor and grabbed Hux by the hips. His fingers dug in hard enough to bruise as he pulled Hux across the mattress until his ass was flush with the edge. The front of his briefs were soaked, his cock tenting the fabric out from his body. Hux swallowed hard. Ren peeled his briefs away from his skin, shoving them down past his knees and kicking across the floor. Fuck, but Ren was huge. Hux had expected him to be proportional, but this was – Ren smiled, and Hux sucked his lower lip into his mouth. At least he'd been thoroughly prepared, Hux thought, unable to take his eyes off Ren's shaft as Ren gripped it in one hand and gave it two quick strokes. Ren was cut, which was a bit of a surprise, but when he reached down and came back up with lube in hand, Hux's thoughts trailed off entirely.
Ren pressed his fingers back to Hux's taint, generously lining his entrance with a quick, wet slide of his fingers. Ren slicked his cock from root to tip and leaned in, guiding his cock just barely inside before slipping out again. Hux gasped and cried out as Ren repeated the motion, thrusting inside and popping back out, letting Hux contract his muscles around the swollen head. Ren made a rough sound and pushed in deeper, encouraged by Hux's matching thrusts. He hooked his arms under Hux's knees and lifted him up, driving in hard once he found the right angle. Hux was lost, his cock throbbing as it pressed up against his stomach, forced into motion by Ren's athletics.
“Ah- ah, right there,” he gasped yes and Ren grunted in answer, his eyes closing as he brushed exactly the right spot over and over. Hux gave himself up to it, losing track of how much time had passed while Ren moved inside him. It felt like drifting underwater, it felt like the teeth in his dreams were at his throat. It seemed like hours, the repeated stimulation of his prostate overwhelming him with steadily building sensation. Shocks of pleasure rolled through him like passing storms, like lightning on his skin and in his veins. His cock leaked a sticky trail of come across his abdomen, followed by Ren's tongue, but Hux never quite came. Then Ren's arms were shaking, and Hux forgot who he was, forgot where they were and why. When Ren pulled out completely without warning, Hux thought it might actually be the end of his world.
He scrabbled up on his elbows, but Ren still held him up off the bed and the corset was too tight to allow him much range of motion. He could see Ren's cock pulse, a thick white bead of come beginning to drip down the shaft. Ren met his gaze and held it as he lowered Hux down and crawled up onto the bed, straddling Hux's hips. He ducked his head and ran his mouth along the constricting fabric just to the side of the clasps, working his way up with focused intent. Hux shifted back on the bed, still feeling the loss of Ren's cock inside him. Ren followed on his knees.
Ren traced the top edge of the corset with his tongue, sliding under the fabric. Hux cried out, but from pain at the restriction or pleasure at the act he couldn't say. He'd lost the ability to distinguish. Hux let his head fall back against the pillow and gripped the coverlet, panting out shallow breaths. Ren traveled upward with his tongue, sliding his lips against Hux's neck to lick at the underside of his chin. He pressed one hand down on the stays until Hux couldn't draw in a breath and sparks filled his field of vision. Hux shivered when the pressure relented, beginning to shake and Ren brought them together with a series of quick, wet thrusts against his hip. Ren moaned against Hux's neck, rutting against him, and Hux buried his hands in Ren's hair. He tugged hard until Ren's face was inches away.
“Want you to come inside me,” Hux breathed, his voice a wet rasp. He felt Ren's wordless agreement nudge against his thoughts, gentle but insistent. It was a simple thing to break and let him in. A flood of pleasure rolled over him, hot and unrelenting, and after being teased for so long Hux almost came from that alone. He tried to hold back, sensing that was what Ren wanted, and he felt a sharp tug on his sack. Ren's hands were nowhere near his balls, sliding up along the sides of his corset, and Hux groaned in the invisible grip.
Ren's hands splayed across Hux's hips and shoved him over onto his side. He could feel Ren's muscles burning like a phantom ache and realized the strain of holding him up had finally won out. His thoughts spun and flickered, and Hux felt a bit stunned, wondering if it really had been hours. Ren slid down behind him and blew out a teasing breath against the back of Hux's neck, a hint of amusement tickling the back of his thoughts. Hux huffed and pushed back the thought that Ren clearly needed to spend more time in training.
Ren grunted in response, then slid one hand down Hux's left leg and pushed his knee forward roughly, scraping the skin on his way back up to squeeze his ass. Hux gave a slight gasp and Ren pinched his cheek before spreading him open. Ren had somehow reacquired the bottle of lube and Hux felt the cool relief of of it sliding across his skin. Ren worked his cock back inside him with quick, sharp thrusts, rolling Hux over just enough that he could brace himself up on one elbow.
This was more intimate than he'd been expecting, and if Hux had been in any state of mind to take control – no, Hux thought wildly as Ren picked up the pace, rolling his hips against him with a steady, driving need. He let out a harsh breath at the sensation of having Ren this deep inside him. No, right at this moment Hux wouldn't change a thing. Ren shifted just enough to find the right spot and rubbed against it with every hard thrust. He struggled to hold together words like exception and just this once.
Ren hummed against the back of his neck and wrapped his arm tightly around Hux's side. His fingers traveled slowly down the corset, increasing the pressure and holding Hux tightly against his chest. Every time he tried to take a deep breath, Ren stole it from him, and Hux was certain he'd never been this hard for this long. He'd never fucked anyone like this – or been fucked like this, but the latter happened far less often than the former. Hux felt a glimmer of surprise from Ren's mind and realized how tangled up they were. His mouth worked soundlessly, feeling conquered, possessed in body and mind as pleasure obliterated his fear. He'd opened the door to it and Hux doubted he could force it closed again. Please, yes, let me stay – Ren's words, or as close as Hux could translate, and he reached back, anchoring his hand on Ren's hip, digging his fingers in to keep him close.
It was gentle, and Hux did not like gentleness. It was approaching tender, and Hux could not abide that weakness. It was probably the best sex he'd ever had.
Ren moved his hand down from the corset and stroked the inside of Hux's thigh, sliding over to ghost along his cock. It jerked and pulsed at his touch and Hux didn't know if the obscene sound he made was out loud or only in his head. His mouth was dry and his cock too sensitive, but he begged for the friction, letting Ren's thrusts from behind set the pace for his own movements against his hand. Unforgivably, Ren's fingers disappeared from his skin and Hux gave a ragged cry. Tendrils of warm reassurance held him over until Ren's hand returned, wonderfully slick.
Ren's thrusts came quicker, his hips losing their rhythm, and Hux could feel Ren's orgasm building in place of his own. His cock slid through Ren's fingers, and Ren squeezed, pulling back his foreskin only to rub it back up and down over his head. Come for me, and Hux did, feeling thrown out of his body by the rush. I've got you, and he fell back into a sea of white noise, every nerve firing at once. He pulsed out warm and wet again and again as Ren rocked into him and Hux was quite certain he'd lost his mind. When Ren finally slipped over the edge, spilling inside him, it took Hux apart, Ren's teeth in his shoulder, Ren's voice in his mind and every bit of sense he had left, gone.
Hux curled in on himself, resting his head against the coverlet as Ren began to soften and pull out. He panted out his breaths and felt Ren's fingers slide around his ribs to work the corset off. Hux gasped in a quick breath and held the air in his chest as long as he could before lapsing back into a steady rise and fall. Ren held him loosely, his hand back on Hux's chest where it belonged. Hux couldn't tell where the thought had originated, but for the moment, he wouldn't disagree. They laid there together, utterly spent, each of them a bit afraid to move. Reality, Hux knew, would soon creep in at the edges and he wanted to forestall its arrival as long as possible. Ren nuzzled at his hairline, planting soft kisses along his neck. They could just sleep like this, Hux thought, and Ren's agreement felt like a soft purr.
Hux was exhausted and dizzy with sensation. Life had prepared him for success, for killing, for the long upward climb to take what glory he deserved, but nothing could have ever prepared him for this – whatever this madness between them had been. Still was.
“A spectacular fuck,” Ren whispered against his neck, the words soft but smug. Hux could feel Ren letting him off the hook, ready to disengage, to let him go if that was what Hux wanted. After a long moment of self-reflection, Hux decided he didn't know what he wanted. The notion was disorienting and entirely novel.
Then Hux realized two things: One, the music had stopped playing some time ago, a telling commentary on the passage of time. Two, he was lying in a pool of his own spend with Ren's come leaking out of him. He didn't want to move, didn't want to leave the warmth of Ren's body draped along his spine, and yet a shower had never sounded so wonderful. Moving proved to be another challenge altogether. Ren smacked his ass, then slid his hand possessively around Hux's waist.
“No,” he said, less a directive and more a complaint. “Stay here.” Hux pushed a jumble of thoughts at him, all resolving into the same general sentiment. Cold. Wet. Disgusting. Ren laughed softly and gestured toward the refresher, calling a towel into his hand. He rolled Hux over to face him, scooting back on the mattress to let Hux escape the wet spot. Ren wiped him down thoroughly and Hux couldn't resist making small pleased sounds as the fabric roamed across his skin. Once he was finished, Hux took the towel from him and repeated the task, drying the sweat from Ren's chest and neck.
Ren's skin smelled pleasantly of salt and Hux pushed in close, tucking his head beneath Ren's chin. Strong arms wrapped around him, one hand stroking through his hair. Just for a little while. After a moment, Ren's thoughts wandered through his mind, suggesting a tempting alternative. Hux could almost feel Ren's searching hands pulling him up from a deep sleep, running across his skin, somehow everywhere at once. A slow, lazy progression from asleep in his arms to awake and wanting, and Hux drifted off to sleep to thoughts of another life, where sunlight streamed in through the windows and time meant nothing at all.
Hux woke with a start, a sense of disquiet seeping out from half-remembered dreams. The mattress dipped with the warmth of another body and the night's events resolved into painful clarity. Ren lay on his side, curved away from him. His hand was halfway to tangling in Ren's hair before he stopped it, rolling back toward the edge of the mattress and slowly rising to his feet. He didn't want to wake Ren up, didn't want to deal with the inevitable conversation that would take place.
Hux pulled a pair of shorts from a drawer built into the wall, throwing a t-shirt on over them for good measure. He felt too bare, too exposed, even in the dark. Dressed in grey and black to match the ship's interior, Hux wondered if he could simply blend into the background and avoid any consequences whatsoever.
Making his way into the main room, Hux dialed up the lights just enough to see and set about finding the pieces of clothing they'd shed earlier. Ren's cloak lay in a pile on the floor, while his tunic had somehow ended up over the back of a chair. He retrieved them and folded them up as best he could, considering tossing them into the chute where a laundry droid would have its way with them. Thinking about Ren's reaction put an unexpected smile on his lips, which Hux promptly quashed.
He had to work considerably harder to find everything of his own strewn about the room. As it was, he still came up missing one stocking, and those hadn't come cheap. His underwear had a small tear in the lace, and Hux considered asking Ren to replace them before realizing where that train of thought would lead. He sat down on the couch, placing the soft pile of fabric beside him, and put his head in his hands. He visualized the situation like a holomodel of a complicated project, turning it this way and that in his mind. From any angle, it had been a catastrophic mistake.
Hux wanted to take the easy way out and blame it on the savorium, but he knew he couldn't. Not entirely. He'd thought about it before, and not just once, or twice. If he hadn't woken up with Ren beside him, Hux might have been inclined to believe it had been a particularly vivid dream. But Ren was here, had been here, had undressed him piece by piece and tended to Hux's pleasure long before his own. He'd wanted it, he'd enjoyed it, and now he was just going to have to deal with it.
Hux felt a tickle at the edge of his thoughts and shoved it away automatically. Looking up, he saw Ren standing in the wide entryway to his bedroom, one hand on the wall. He looked confused and a bit hurt, but Hux wasn't about to let him back into his mind. Of all the poor decisions he'd made, that one loomed the largest.
“Hux?” Ren questioned, but Hux chose not to respond. He focused his gaze on the floor, instead. Ren crossed the room to stand beside the couch, hesitating a moment before lifting up the pile of clothes and settling down beside him.
“What do you want?” Hux asked, wincing at the defeat in his tone.
Ren didn't respond for a moment. “For you to come back to bed?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
Hux made an exasperated noise. “You know what I mean.” Ren stared at him, blinking in what seemed like genuine confusion. Hux decided to spell it out. “For not telling anyone,” he said harshly, gesturing at the bundle of silk and lace in Ren's lap.
“I'm not in the habit of discussing my intimacies,” Ren said, his eyes narrow in the dim light. He seemed to be awake now, for better or worse, and when he spoke it was clipped and impersonal. “Everyone on this ship is either afraid of me or mocks me behind my back. Even if I were as gauche as you seem to think, who would I tell?”
“You are far more permissive of their disrespect than you should be. I did not rise to this rank by tolerating insolence among my -” Hux replaced the word that came to mind with more appropriate monikers. “Among my troops, and my crew.”
“Your subjects,” Ren said with a smirk. “That's how you think of them in your daydreams of absolute power.”
“One has to have goals,” Hux said dismissively. “My original point stands,” he redirected. “I am in command of this vessel, and I cannot tolerate lack of respect in the ranks. Any knowledge of what their leader does in private would prove deleterious to morale.” He plucked a glove from off the pile in Ren's hands and held it up to make his point.
Ren's gaze flicked between the glove and Hux's face. “I don't understand.”
“How nice for you. I don't know what sort of backwater planet spawned you, but among my more civilized peers, this sort of thing would be seen as a weakness to be exploited.”
“You have no reason to be ashamed -”
“I'm not ashamed of anything I do,” Hux retorted. “But I consider my privacy to be paramount. So please, just tell me what it's going to take for you to fuck off and never speak of this again?”
Ren recoiled as if struck. Hux could see the anger building in his frame, and realized he might have made a critical error. Ren gripped the metal frame of the couch with one hand, his lips pressed in a thin line. The large cabinet above his cooking plate slid open, the dishes inside rattling. Hux ducked his head as a plate went sailing by, far out of range of striking the couch. He flinched as it shattered against the far wall with a loud crash. A small cleaning droid whirred to life from a hidden cubby and beeped happily as it began to clean up the pieces. Miraculously, the rattling stilled without further breakage as the cabinet door closed. Ren breathed deeply beside him.
Well, Hux thought. That certainly could have been worse.
“It wasn't any particular planet,” Ren said finally. Now it was Hux's turn to appear confused. “I spent my childhood in outdated ships and makeshift command centers. My mother was always busy, and pawned me off on pilots, mechanics, anyone who happened to be around. Everything was temporary. There was never enough room for everyone, so there was never any privacy to be respected.” Hux had never heard Ren say so much all at once, and he found himself captivated. “I suppose little things like who was fucking whom, and how they went about it just didn't matter. We had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, and so whatever time you could steal was all that mattered.” Ren stopped, his point apparently made, and stared across the room.
“Your parents were part of the Rebellion,” Hux said in disbelief, beginning to fit the pieces together.
Ren twisted the strap on Hux's chemise in his lap, eschewing verbal confirmation. “Now you have a secret of mine. I trust you to keep it.”
“I can't picture you as a child,” Hux said to break the awkward silence. It was a true statement. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't shrink the features before him into anything other. Most children were happy, carefree creatures – or so the stories ran. His childhood had been different, and Hux had always supposed that Ren's was, too.
“Everyone was a child once, Hux. Even you.” Ren still hadn't turned to look at him.
“I was never a child,” Hux said, lifting his chin. “I sprang fully formed from my mother, decorous and utterly brilliant.” Ren snorted and looked away. His shoulders shook with silent laughter, and soon Hux was laughing, and wasn't that just the strangest thing?
Hux felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. He'd never heard Ren laugh. “I wasn't certain that you were capable of humor,” Hux teased.
“Considering I'd never even seen you smile until tonight, I think we're even.” Ren looked at him, his gaze turned soft. His lips flirted with a smile.
Hux tried to school his features into a scowl, but failed miserably. The situation was just too absurd. Ren's lips parted as if to speak, and Hux caught a glimpse of himself from outside, his hair mussed and catching the light like a live wire. He looked like a stranger. He looked – oh. Ren's eyes widened and seemed to lose focus, shifting his gaze from one point to another without ever looking at Hux. Hux knew Ren hadn't meant to project, but he had, and here they were.
It was something he couldn't quite fit words around. It was inadvisable and terrifying and so, so easy to break, but Hux couldn't remember the last time he'd felt wanted. He wasn't sure he ever had.
Ren stood up hastily from the couch and placed the bundle of lingerie in Hux's hands, almost as an afterthought. Hux wanted to ask a thousand things, wanted to ask “Why?” and “How long?” but instead he just looked up.
“You wanted me to leave,” Ren said in answer to the one question Hux wasn't silently asking. “So, I'll just get my robes and - and be out of your way.” He took a few steps toward the chair where his clothes hung at odd angles. Hux reached out before he could think better of it. His hand brushed Ren's arm, and Ren froze.
“Stay,” Hux said, his voice soft and uncertain, meaning with me, meaning tell yourself it's just until morning.
“Hux,” Ren said, a warning in his tone. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “What do you want?” he asked, all emphasis on the last word as he turned Hux's question around.
Hux stood up from the couch, the lace and silk falling to the floor. “Honestly?” he answered. “I'm not sure.” He approached Ren carefully, as if afraid he might bolt. But Hux had never known Ren to be frightened of anything, and he couldn't imagine this was any different.
He crowded into Ren's space, and to his credit, Ren didn't move an inch. Hux reached up and tucked a stray curl of hair behind Ren's ear. He turned into Hux's touch, pressing his lips gently against Hux's palm. Hux stilled, suddenly uncertain. A fond sort of exasperation brushed his mind.
Hux drew in a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Ren's. “I want to think I can have this,” he murmured, close enough to share Ren's breath. “Let me pretend, just for a little while.”
“I think we've both pretended long enough,” Ren said, and Hux let himself remember all the things he'd tried so hard to bury. The sharp tug on his hair when he'd worked so long his eyes hurt and the console blurred. The fire that scorched his mind when Ren was angry, a map to what he'd just destroyed. A phantom touch on the back of his neck when he couldn't fall asleep. A hand extended to lift him out of his nightmares.
His own entreaties, on the longest nights. When they hadn't passed a sun in weeks and his thoughts returned to the misery of a barren, rain-soaked world. When his bed was cold and empty. Neither of us has to be lonely. Take off your mask, and I'll take off mine.
“You're the commander of this ship,” Ren reminded him gently, bringing him back. “You can have whatever you'd like.”
Hux slid his fingers along Ren's cheek. He tilted his head to find just the right angle and followed it down, pressing his lips soft and hesitant against Ren's. Ren wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, stroking along the base of his hairline and Hux didn't want to be careful anymore.
“Kylo,” Hux whispered against his lips, and then again. “Kylo.” Ren pulled him in roughly, sliding his other hand around Hux's waist until they were pressed together at every point. He slid his hand from Hux's neck to rest beneath his chin, tilting it up until their lips met properly. They crashed together, thoughts occupying the same wordless space as their mouths slid over and against one another. Hux let his guard slip, just a little, and Ren gasped against his mouth.
Hux hit the wall before he'd even had time to register the movement. Ren's hand cupped the back of his head protectively, and he leaned back against it. Ren worked his thigh between Hux's legs, and Hux made a greedy sound against his mouth. Ren's lips on his were hot and fierce and Hux never wanted him to stop. Ren sucked in Hux's lower lip and nipped at it lightly, pulling back only to move back in again. Hux pressed his tongue past Ren's lips and slid eagerly into the warmth. Ren grazed his teeth lightly across it as Hux pulled it back and slipped back in again.
Hux broke away from the kiss to lick and suck his way along Ren's jaw. Ren pressed his stiffening cock against Hux's hip in response, letting out a sharp, hot breath. Hux rocked slowly against Ren's leg between his thighs, taking his earlobe into his mouth and giving it a gentle bite. Ren slid his hand up from Hux's waist to run beneath his shirt, and Hux shivered into the touch.
“Do you still want that shower?” Ren asked, his voice thick, and Hux smiled against his skin.
“Only if you plan on joining me,” Hux replied, sucking a small bruise where Ren's neck met his shoulder.
Ren pulled back just far enough to tug Hux's shirt up over his head, and Hux obliged, tossing it across the room. He grabbed Hux's hips and turned him back toward the bedroom, delivering a light shove between his shoulder blades. Hux laughed, and Ren's mind was full of warm, lazy thoughts again. Hux could almost feel those hands roaming across his skin, long fingers teasing him until he begged, and the walk to the refresher took far too long.
Hux still slept alone more often than not, though usually that was his own fault. His schedule was ridiculous and frequently involved involuntary naps against handy consoles. There were times that he returned to his quarters to find Ren sacked out on his couch, waiting to be kissed awake. Slowly, Hux was learning to sleep in a bed like a rational individual, but Ren was patient. Hux often rolled that sentiment around in his mind, still shocked by the notion. Kylo Ren was patient. With him.
It was roughly a week after their first encounter when Hux returned to his quarters to find his oft-ignored housekeeping droid awake and holding out a small package. It beeped happily, shuffling back and forth as he hung his coat and hat by the door. “All right,” Hux said, reaching out to take the parcel. “What have you got for me?” The red HN-450 unit let out a whirr followed by a series of staccato bursts in binary. Hux frowned. For a moment he wished he'd requisitioned a hospitality droid for his quarters, but the last one had talked back and needed to be reprogrammed. Repeatedly.
The package had apparently arrived via an admin droid that refused identification protocol. Wary to touch the envelope, Hux stepped back. “Don't just stand there,” he said. “Open the damn thing. Carefully,” he added, not relishing the idea of having to break in yet another assistant. A side panel opened and a small buzz saw slid out, spinning to life. Hux took another step back.
The saw sliced expertly through the end of the package, and the droid extended a visual sensor to peek inside. It swayed back and forth, making a cooing sound before shuffling across the floor. “It's safe, then?” Hux asked, somewhat bemused by the noises, and the sensor wiggled up and down. He reached out and peered inside the envelope.
It was filled with black lace.