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Hux gets bored easily. This isn’t usually a failing - he sketched the original plans for Starkiller during an endless meeting, his then-captain droning on and on inanely. He works on three, four things at once, switching back and forth between projects the moment one stops interesting him. On the whole, it’s a commendable trait.

It does have some drawbacks, though.

There are a limited number of people on a ship. It’s an obvious fact, and one that doesn’t usually matter that much. With thousands and thousands of people, friendships are easily made. A buddy to drink with, a partner to play a round of holochess. It’s not a challenge. But there are moments when it becomes an inconvenience.

Hux first notices exactly what that problem is when he’s a lieutenant on his first cruise. There are a limited number of people to fuck. He’s already a little restricted - can’t fuck people he commands, after all. But that does leave a whole set of superior offices with looser morals than his. And a wealth of other lieutenants, faces to press into pillows and narrow hips to grab, fingers leaving bright bruises.

Not enough though. Hux quickly gets tired of seeing the same smile, the same gaping mouth, the same lips panting out as he slams his cock between them. When he’s twenty two, he fucks the same man for four months, and by the end of it, he wants to scream each time he watches that face go slack with lust. He breaks it off abruptly, just stops talking to the man, and smiles at the hurt glances he gets for the next month. They’re more interesting than the man’s cock.

It’s then that he decides he has to do something about this. Even his own hand is getting tiresome, and he doesn’t think he can stand making the rounds of the same fifteen men again, knows exactly who will caress and stroke, who will yank on his hair, fingers twisting not quite tight enough. He needs something different.

It’s late one night when he has the idea. He’s been reprogramming the stormtrooper simulations, adding different difficulty levels and inputting new opponents. And as he writes the code for a thousand different enemies, as he stares at them floating before him as they are created out of air, he knows what to do.

The stormtrooper sims are an incredible piece of technology. Perfectly lifelike, inside the sim chamber, you feel, breathe, touch, bleed. False reality, and you cannot tell the difference. Yet, they are infinitely programmable. Infinitely modifiable. Endless.

And Hux starts work on “the program” that night.

It takes weeks, every moment of his off hours spent at the terminal, coding just what he wants. His eyes blur and ache. His fingers grow sore, his mind is a mess of numbers. Yet finally, finally, it’s finished.

Hux takes a deep breath before he steps into the chamber. He’s locked it, using override codes he shouldn’t know. Codes he dug from the depths of the General’s personal files, where they should never have been stored. He’s written himself a smokescreen, hiding himself and the locked door from the ship’s computer in endless routines. He’s ready.

There’s an empty room, bed pushed up against one wall. Wide enough for two, and Hux smiles at that. A chest stands next to it, and Hux knows what he’ll find if he looks inside. But tonight, tonight he just wants to experiment. Tonight, he just wants a fuck.

He sits down on the bed. Rests his hands on his knees and waits. Keeps his breathing calm, even, and tries not to brush his hair out of his face. Tries not to press his nails to his palms. The door to the room squeals open, and Hux feels a momentary flash of pride. The realism he’s achieved is incredible.

Then a man comes into the room. Tall, thick thighs and broad shoulders. Long blonde hair, far too long for regulations. Hux wants to fist his hands in it. Wants to pull and take, and he can. He stands. Stalks in a tight circle around the man.

“You Hux?” He’s programmed the system for a limited amount of interaction. He’s not looking for a friend, after all. Just a good fuck. He nods. Runs his finger down the back of the man’s neck, and it feels like skin, soft and yielding under his fingertips. Walks back to face the man and takes his mouth in a harsh kiss.

The man’s spit is warm in his mouth, and Hux can’t help but groan. He tastes new. He bites hard at the man’s lips, sucks the blood away. Metallic, and Hux wants to drink it down, the sweetness of it. The man moans into his mouth. Slaps huge hands across Hux’s ass, and digs his fingers in. Then he’s pushing Hux across the room. Hoisting Hux up, and Hux locks his ankles around the man’s back as he gets slammed against the wall. He can feel the hard bulge of the man’s cock against his own as the man grinds against him.

He pulls hard at that blonde hair and gets a whimper in return. They still have their clothes on, but Hux feels hotter than he has in years. The man is still pressing him against the wall, holding Hux up with his thick arms, fingers pressing into Hux’s ass hard enough that they’ll leave bruises. Hux pants hard as the man bites down his neck. He can do anything here. Anything.


By the time Hux is given Finalizer, he’s fucked a hundred, a thousand different men. Tall, short, thin, fat, each one different than the last. He’s broken their bones, left them bleeding on the floor as he jerks off on their faces. He’s choked them with his cock, watched them wretch and spit on the floor after he comes. He’s felt muscle tear under his biting teeth, left them aching as he comes in their asses and stalks out of the room, sated.

He’s curled on a bed as he fucks slow into one of them from behind, spooned up as he runs soft fingers over their sides. He’s stroked them off and left himself aching and wanting. Let them come on his face, his ass, in his hair. Sucked and licked at soft rims, opened them up till they’re panting and writhing beneath him, begging for his cock. Kissed them soft and slow, tongue searching in a thousand mouths.

And he’s not bored.


General Armitage Hux has to be the single most uninteresting man to ever command a starship. He eats with his officers, retires to his chambers and works. After a month on Finalizer with the man, Kylo has yet to find anything compelling about the General. He seems to have no friends, to spend his time poring over blueprints and equations. Every so often, Kylo catches him walking out of the gym, regulation grey athletics shirt damp with sweat.

So it’s little bit of a surprise when Kylo starts to notice the General walking out of the sim rooms at odd hours. Late into third shift sometimes. Or immediately after the General leaves the bridge, breath stinking of caf and a cloud of smoke trailing after him. It’s odd, not quite regular. Because what need does Hux have to train in the sim rooms? He is no stormtrooper, no cannon fodder. An occasional inspection, that Kylo would understand. But this is more than that.

At first, it’s idle curiosity. Kylo starts to keep track of when the General frequents the sim rooms. There doesn’t seem to be a regular pattern to it though. Some weeks, he’ll go three times, some weeks he won’t go at all. There’s a memorable spate of five days when Hux disappears every single day, spending a few hours completely incommunicado.

It’s that last week - Hux darting off the bridge the moment the shift change sounds - that decides him. He wants to know. Of course, it’s more than likely that Hux is pouring over sim files, studying data, head bent over a terminal. But that’s easily determined.

So one day, Kylo follows.

Not immediately, of course. The general may be one of the dullest men Kylo has ever had the misfortune to work with, but he’s not unintelligent. He has his own sort of low cunning. So Kylo waits for part of an hour, stalking about the bridge and peering at the newest course projections. If Hux holds true to form, he’ll be in the sim rooms two hours at the least. There have been shorter times, of course, but not often.

Kylo can feel the collective sigh of relief when he leaves the bridge, and he smiles behind his helmet. Then he’s making his way down to the sim rooms, techs and troopers scattering before him. When he gets there, there are five rooms in use. Three are the huge chambers used for full squad activities. He dismisses those. Even Hux wouldn’t be so audacious as to commandeer one of those for his own use. The other two are smaller, only fit for a five person unit.

The first of these, when he glances at the terminals in the observation room, holds a stormtrooper sparring with a togruta - computer generated, of course, but real enough that the audio brings the trooper’s grunts of pain each time the togruta lands a strike.

The second observation room is locked. Kylo grins, mouth stretching wide. It’s a simple matter to override the lock with the Force. He could, of course, have used his access codes. Coequal, he and Hux cannot lock each other out of things. But then there would have been a trace of him here. And on the off chance that Hux is not simply writing code or pounding his little fists against an opponent not able to tell the tale of Hux’s defeat, Kylo would like to remain unnoticed.

The doors slides open. Inside, the observation room is quiet, the door to the sim chamber shut fast. Kylo settles himself in one of the deep chairs at the desk and brings up the observation feed. The terminal flickers to life.

For a moment, Kylo isn’t sure what he’s watching, hearing. The audio is low and thready. There’s a sharp grunt, a muffled groan. On the screen, he can see a little room, a bed, a chair. And two men.

Kylo leans closer to the screen. There, pale back bright, is Hux. He’s pressing the other figure hard into the wall across the room from the recorder. For a moment, a wild instant, Kylo wonders if they’re sparring. Then he catches the quick thrust of Hux’s hips. The way the other man moans, face against the wall. Hux has a hand around the man’s neck, another snaking out of view around the man’s waist. As Kylo watches, the man gasps, panting.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” Hux’s laugh rings sharp through the monitor.

“You’d like that, would you?” He presses forward, shoves the man harder against the wall. “But what if that’s not what I want? What if I want you to rut against the wall like a fucking dog? Maybe I don’t even want to fuck you today. Maybe I want to jerk off on that pretty ass of yours.” Hux spins the man around. Presses himself into the other man, and Kylo finally gets a glimpse of his face.

It’s no one Kylo recognizes, must be a trooper or a tech. Storm-dark skin and black hair, a narrow mouth and green eyes. He’s flushed, straining upward to press his mouth against Hux’s jaw. Hux groans.

And maybe, maybe Kylo should leave. He’s found out what he wants to know, after all. But somehow, he can’t bring himself to. Hux is clearly breaking about ten different regulations here, starting with fraternization with personnel under his command and ending with misuse of Order resources. And Kylo, well, Kylo wants to know more. Wants to see Hux damn himself more completely. Wants a name to go with that face that screwed up in pleasure over Hux’s shoulder. So he settles himself further into his chair.

Hux has jerked the other man’s shirt up, is pulling it off to reveal a soft chest and gently curving belly. A tech or a non-com then. Hux spins them around, pushes the dark haired man to his knees in front of him as he leans against the wall.

Fingers scrabble at the catch of Hux’s trousers, then the man is pulling out Hux’s cock. Hux whimpers, a bitten off sound, and cups a hand around the man’s neck. Suddenly Kylo realizes he has a hand on the controls, is about to zoom in. He pulls back, feels his face flush. There’s no need for that.

The man is licking at Hux’s cock now, nuzzling his face into the bright hair that trails up Hux’s stomach. He bites at the curve of Hux’s belly and Hux growls, fingers flexing on the back of the man’s neck.

“Get on with it!” Hux’s voice trembles just a little as he pushes the man towards his dick, and rich laughter floods from the speakers in response. But then the man follows the press of Hux’s hand, and Kylo can see the bright mark he leaves behind on Hux’s skin. Then he’s taking Hux in his mouth and Hux arches his back. As Kylo watches, the man moans around Hux’s cock, bobbing his head in quick, sharp jerks.

“Ah… good at this, aren’t you?” Hux is starting to sound breathless, his face flushing as he pushes forward into the man’s mouth. “Funny. Those lips are too thin to look like they’d be any use.”

The man tries to pull off, maybe to say something, but Hux holds him there, starts to work his hips and thrust his cock into the man’s mouth. The man gives a muffled grunt but relaxes. He’s got one hand on Hux’s ass, guiding Hux to him as the pace speeds. And Hux is gasping, fisting his hands in the man’s short hair.

There’s a sharp panting, and Kylo suddenly realizes it’s his own breath, harsh through the speakers of his mask. He takes a deep gasp, holds it, holds it in till his lungs burn and his stomach twists, then lets it out. Then he stands up. Hux is getting close, so close, and Kylo doesn’t want to be here when he finishes. Doesn’t want even the chance that Hux will stalk out of the room and find him here, panting over the control panel.


That night, alone in his quarters, Kylo wonders. He’s fairly certain the sims aren’t programed for cozy quarters in which to fuck your inferiors. That means that Hux has set this up especially, and even better, it means that Hux knows he’s doing something a little outside of regulations.

Kylo scoffs to himself. A little outside? There are at least ten regs he can think of that caution against involvement with people under your command, and he doesn’t know the book particularly well. This is juicier than anything he’s learned since coming on Finalizer. This is enough to sink the Supreme Leader’s pet general, and it makes him squirm a little in delight just to think of it.

Hux, with his blank stare and flat voice, finally humbled. Hux, with his insistence on equality with Kylo, finally humbled. It’s sweet, just the phantom of the idea. He wonders what the best way of going about proving it is. He can’t just tell Snoke what he’s seen. No, that’s not enough at all. He needs the name of the man Hux was with. He needs evidence. And there’s only one way to get that.


After that, Kylo watches. He notes that when Hux is feeling particularly stressed, he sneaks off the bridge more than otherwise. The first two times Kylo follows him, it is the same man. Hux buries his face in the man’s shoulder, moaning out his pleasure as he fuck the man against the thin mattress on the floor. He kisses the nape of the man’s neck when he’s done, lips soft o sweating skin.

That is when Kylo leaves, both those times.

It is something that cannot be intruded on. The dig of Hux’s nails into the man’s hips, the way his skin flushes dark when Hux lands a sharp slap on his ass, those are all meant to be shared, almost a performance, even if Hux does not know anyone is watching. But those last breathless moments? Kylo’s skin crawls when he thinks of them.

At least, until the third time.

That time the man is different. Shorter, much shorter, and softer. He is all rounded stomach and hips, pale skin and light hair. When Kylo slips into the observation room and flicks on the screens, Hux is seated on the mattress, the other man between his legs. Kylo lowers himself into a chair, spreading his legs to match Hux’s wide sprawl.

Hux rakes a hand across the man’s chest. His fingers come up to pinch at the man’s wide nipples. “Fuck,” he mutters, and Kylo jumps at the sound of Hux’s voice. “You feel so nice between my legs. Can you feel my cock, baby?” He rolls his hips, and the man in his lap squirms.

Hux wraps one arm around the curve of the man’s belly, holding him in place. The other hand keeps pinching and twisting the man’s nipples. They’re very pink now, showing bright against the expanse of the man’s chalky skin. As Kylo watches, the hand on the man’s belly trails down to reach inside his boxers.

Kylo yelps when he feels his own hand pressing against his cock. He can’t help but moan in sympathy as this new man arches up in Hux’s hold. His belly quivers, and through the speakers, Kylo can hear Hux’s murmured words.

“Beautiful for me,” he is saying. “So nice, coming apart in my lap like this.”

Kylo lets his own fingers tease beneath the waistband of his leggings. It is entirely natural, entirely right. After all, he is watching and gathering evidence to bring Hux down. There is no reason he can’t have some fun first. His fingers trace over the head of his cock, and just then, Hux pulls the man’s boxers back, bearing his cock to the air.

It’s a nice dick, Kylo notes absently. Balls heavy, cock thick and just barely curving up towards the man’s stomach. Kylo’s eyes are fixed on the way Hux circles it with his fist, though. He can see how Hux twists his hand on every upward stroke, sometimes even thumbing over the head when he reaches the top.

Before he can stop himself, Kylo finds he is doing the same. He whimpers when Hux speeds his hand, tucking his own leggings down beneath his balls and freeing his cock.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Hux’s voice sounds from the speakers. Kylo groans. Inside the sim room, the man nods frantically. Hux laughs, the sound of it breathless and quick. Then he’s slipping out from behind the man, lowering him down to the mattress.

Hux climbs to straddle the man, and Kylo can no longer see the man’s face twitching in agonized pleasure. But as he watches, Hux spreads his legs wide, reaching behind himself. He slides a few fingers in quickly, and Kylo gasps. Hux must have worked himself open earlier, must have been sitting there with lube dripping out of his ass this entire time. He might have even done it before his shift on the bridge, stalked around issuing orders, his ass wide and gaping, begging to be filled.

Kylo has only just gotten his breath back when Hux sinks down onto the man’s cock. His legs are spread so wide that Kylo can see it disappearing into his ass. Hux lets himself open up for it, inching down it in miniscule little motions. Below him, the man shakes. His fingers dig into his thick thighs, holding himself back. Kylo can imagine how much he must ache to reach out and pull Hux down, to fuck up sharply into that round ass. But he doesn’t, instead lying on the mattress, a whimpering mess. Hux throws back his head, starting to ride the man’s cock.

From this angle, Kylo can’t see the expression on Hux’s face. But by now he knows what it looks like, knows the way Hux’s eyes narrow and his lips thin as he gets close. He know how Hux will fist his own cock, working himself on the man’s dick like the man is little more than a toy for Hux’s pleasure.

Hux’s long exhalation, the strange whimper-moan that he makes when he comes has Kylo shivering in his chair. He looks down to see that he has spilled over his fist, that his robes are white with his own release. Kylo growls. He’d forgotten almost entirely about his own hand on his cock, lost in the spectacle of Hux’s pleasure. He rubs his hand over the mess, then stops. Inside the sim room, Hux is rolling off the man, standing and fumbling for his clothes. Kylo stands hurriedly. He grabs his helmet and shuts off the terminal, making his way out of the sims before Hux is only half dressed. He cannot let himself be discovered. Not yet.


After that, Hux’s conquests are all different. Blonde, brunette, redheaded. Some short, some tall, some old, some barely into adulthood. They are hardbodied and soft, vocal and quite. Hux seems to have not particular tastes, no needs beyond the primal urge to fuck.

Kylo watches them all.

At first he resists the temptation to sneak his hand inside his robes at every one of Hux’s overseen trysts. He holds himself back. He is collecting evidence, and at least some of the time he must be sharp enough to remember all he sees. Further evidence of Hux’s disregard for what he should be prioritizing, his blatant unfitness for command.

Only, somewhere along the way, perhaps when Hux fucks a tall dark-haired man until the man screams out his pleasure, face streaming with tears, Kylo gives up. Somewhere along the way, the curl of Hux’s lips, and the sweat that beads on his temples becomes too much to bear. And Kylo starts to watch more closely. He gasps at the ways that Hux’s hips splay wide. He shivers when Hux sucks down some other man’s cock, his own throbbing in Kylo’s grasp.

It is hard to bear.

Kylo begins to bring a small tube of lube with him on his observation trips. It sits in his pocket most of the time, close to the warmth of his body. When Hux slips off the bridge, feet finding their way down to the lower decks, it is ready for Kylo to use. And when Kylo settles himself into his chair, it takes a place next to the screen, easy to retrieve when he needs it.

The first time Hux fingers himself open when Kylo is actually there, Kylo comes the moment Hux’s second finger finds its way into his ass.

The second time it happens, Kylo traces a finger down his own ass in synch with Hux’s. He’s never done this before, but the look on Hux’s face when that finger sinks inside has Kylo aching to know what it feels like.

The first press of this fingertip inside is strange. It spreads him wide, stretching him open in a way that takes his breath away. Kylo gasps, and his finger inches its way a little deeper. He can’t tell if he wants more, or if he wants to yank his hand away and never try this again. But then his eyes flit to the screen, where Hux has a cock deep in his throat, fingers spreading himself wide, and it is enough. He lets his finger find its way the rest of the way inside and comes, choking on his own breath, one hand on his cock and the other worming its way to press against his prostate for the first time.

From then on, Kylo can’t think of anything but that feeling when he settles himself in the chair to watch over Hux and his partners. He aches for it, the spread of his fingers inside himself, the odd sparking pleasure that courses through him. He wonders what it would be like to finger himself wide before his workday begins, as he knows Hux sometimes does. Would he walk about, the memory of slick fingers between his cheeks driving him to distraction? Would the lube run down his leg, slick and wet and secret? He finds himself glancing over at Hux sometimes, trying to make out some telltale stain on the black fabric of Hux’s uniform.

He never finds it.

And that, in its own way, is worse. He wants to. He wants to have at least that consolation that Hux is breaking some rule, that Hux is flaunting himself in front of his crew, even if most of them have no idea. Yet it never happens. Instead, he keeps on following Hux. Instead, he finds himself the one soaked with his own come, stumbling back to his quarters with his face flushed beneath his helmet.


It goes on for months.

Kylo watches the sim monitor screens with narrowed eyes. He counts repeat comers, but can make out no pattern. He watches infinite acts that he never imagined before, and tenderness that he did not think Hux capable of.

He’s curled in his chair, cock not yet out one day, when Hux looks up from the mouth he is kissing. He looks up, straight at the sim recorder, and Kylo’s breath catches in his throat. Hux’s eyes are bright, his lips slick and shining in the light of the sim room.

“Why don’t you come inside, Kylo?”

Kylo’s fingers tighten on the arms of his chair. It has to be a mistake. Hux could not have just said what he thinks he heard.

“I know you’re out there, Kylo. Why don’t you come join me? I promise not to bite.” Hux’s teeth flash in the light of the room, and Kylo stumbles upwards.

He should leave. He should walk off this deck and never come back. He should purify himself in meditation and practice, and leave Hux to his debauchery.

Kylo opens the door.

Inside the room is warm. The smell of sweat is in the air, thick and pungent. It is the thickset man again today, curled up on his knees, mouth bitten red. He says nothing as Kylo enters, only cocks his head to one side.

“How did you know I was there?” Kylo blurts out, once the door closes behind him. Hux laughs.

“I’ve known for weeks, Kylo Ren.” He rises, and Kylo notices that he’s hard in his boxer briefs, cock pressing against them in a long line.

“Weeks?” Kylo says. “How?”

His own voice shakes a little as he stands before Hux. Hux takes a step closer, bare feet silent on the floor. His hair is in disarray, and Kylo sees what might be spit slicking up a few strands, but could be sweat.

“The smell of your come,” Hux tells him. “The scent of your skin. The flicker of black robes around a corner. The bright flush on your cheeks in those few moments when I see your head bare. The way your eyes follow my legs.”

“You could smell me?” Kylo can hardly think, days of sitting covered in his own spend watching the sim monitors flashing behind his eyes.

“I can still smell you, Kylo. Ash and dead things, and want.”

“You must be very arrogant,” Kylo bristles. “What makes you think I want you? Just because you have troopers and techs falling over themselves to spread for you doesn’t mean I want to!”

His stomach clenches as Hux’s eyes widen. Then the room is filled with laughter, Hux doubled over, clutching his belly, groaning and whimpering. He falls to his knees, panting, and Kylo feels his face flush even farther than it already is.

“What, what is so funny?” he eventually snaps out, when Hux has almost exhausted himself in mirth.

“You think they’re real!” Hux wheezes.

“Who?” Kylo asks.

“The people I fuck, Ren. You think they’re fucking real? Oh my stars. I’ve never…”

“You’re not making sense,” Kylo says.

Hux struggles up, a hand on Kylo’s shoulder to keep himself upright. He’s still shaking with laughter. Kylo almost throws him off, but he’s too distracted by the incredulous look on Hux’s face.

“They’re not real, Kylo.”


“Them, all of them.” Hux waves behind himself, to where the thickset man is still sprawled on the floor cock hard in his boxers.

“Not real?” Kylo’s brain is a fog, too mixed up. He can feel the heat of Hux’s breath on his skin, the press of his fingers against Kylo’s.

“They’re a simulation.”

“All of them?” Kylo’s voice squeaks.

“All of them,” Hux agrees.

“Why?” Kylo gasps out.

“Because I can.” Hux trails fingers across the front of Kylo’s robes, then goes back to kneel behind the man Kylo can hardly believe is nothing more than clever programming. He bites the man’s neck lightly, and this close, Kylo can hear the breathy moan.

“Because I want more than people can give. Because I’m bored. Because I like them. Why not?” Hux’s voice is slow, honey sweet. His hands trace careful patterns over the man’s belly and chest, cupping a pec then running his fingers up over the man’s pale throat. Kylo’s cock throbs in his robes.

“Touch yourself, Ren.” Hux’s whisper is audible, even over the whimpers the man in his arms is letting out now. “I want you to watch me, just as you always do, and I want you to touch yourself.”


“Why not?” Hux cups the man’s - the simulation’s - cock, fingers teasing along its length. Kylo feels a groan sneak past his lips. His hand goes to the bulge in his robes almost involuntarily, pressing quickly against it.

“Just like that,” Hux whispers. “Take yourself out for me.”

Kylo slumps against the wall, shoving his leggings down. He will think this through later. He will wonder and worry later. For now, he curls his hand around his cock, parting his robes so Hux can look his fill.

“Lovely,” Hux murmurs, and then he’s stroking the man faster, fingers beneath the line of his boxers now. Kylo watches as Hux ruts against the man’s back, rocking against him in short stuttering strokes.

“Do you finger yourself open, when you watch?” Hux’s cheeks are going pink. “Do you wish that it was my cock, spreading you wide, fucking you open?”

Kylo nods, unable to control the motion of his own head.

“Would you like to see me open someone up from this close? Would you like to watch me bury myself in them, with you looking and all the while groaning that it isn’t you?”

Kylo whimpers, biting his lip. Then he gasps out his answer, a frantic “yes.”

“Good boy,” Hux whispers.

And that, to Kylo’s horror, is when he spills. Hux throws back his head for a moment, breathing hard. Before Kylo can flee, he stands, graceful and tall. It’s two steps to Kylo, and Hux is dropping to his knees. His mouth is around Kylo’s fingers, sucking them clean. Kylo’s cock throbs again, aching to come.

“You taste incredible,” Hux whimpers. Then he’s coming too, and Kylo collapses down, a shuddering wreck next to Hux’s spent body.

When they both get their breath back, Kylo makes as if to leave, muscles tensing and coiling. He presses a hand to the floor to pull himself up, but finds it trapped. The cage of Hux’s fingers around it holds him down.

“Did you like watching?” Hux’s voice is sleepy, soft now.

“I always like watching,” Kylo admits.

“You are… interesting.” Hux seems grudging, the words pulled from his throat. “It would please me if you would continue to watch.”

Kylo presses his lips together for a long moment. Then he nods.

“I do not think I could stop if ordered by Vader himself,” he admits, and the words echo out of his chest, clear, and true, and finally, finally real.