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The place was a dive.

Hux hated dive bars.

The lighting was too dim and some horrible lo-fi garage rock music was piping through the speakers, tinny and just on this side of too loud. The walls were white cinder blocks, painted over with psychedelic murals he couldn't be bothered to stare at too closely. But the people were the worst. He didn't see a single body not covered in ink or a single face not punched full of holes and metal.

Hux hovered in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and considered leaving right now and texting Dopheld that something had come up at work. Or not texting him at all. He'd deserve it for choosing such a horrible location for a date.

Even if Dopheld didn't turn out to be a complete let down, Hux resolved to delete Tinder from his phone. This was getting to be ridiculous.

A thin white woman with a buzz cut and sparkling studs on her cheekbones brushed by him impatiently and Hux finally stepped inside with a dejected sigh. Dopheld had better be worth this.

All the tables were taken, but only half the bar was occupied— it was that strange time of night when everyone was out for dinner but no one who didn't have a problem had congregated for drinks yet. Hux was surprised this shit hole wasn't empty, given the circumstances.

He took a seat on the short side of the bar—it was fully empty and so he wouldn't be forced to make conversation until Dopheld arrived.

He was adjusting his leather bag over the back of his chair when a deep, warm voice said wryly, "You lost, Red?"

"I wish—" Hux started to spit, but the words died in his throat when he lifted his eyes from his bag.

If Hux had stumbled into a den of freaks, this man had to be their king. Hux didn't know where to look first so he focused on the man's eyes.

They were black. The entire eye. Just. Black. He blinked slowly at Hux and the warm brown of his irises distinguished themselves from the sclera, just a shade lighter and shimmering in amusement. When he blinked again, Hux couldn't see a trace of white and he realized in shock that the man wasn't wearing contact lenses.

"Meeting someone?" the bartender asked, lips curling in a smirk under a thick black septum ring.

Hux rolled his eyes in irritation. "Yes."

"Business or pleasure?"

Hux arched a brow, eyes tracking down now to the really obscenely full lips. He had two rings, one on each side of his bottom lip, and a round silver ball nestled between, in the pouty little space where lip met chin. That ball was mirrored by another above it, positioned at his cupid’s bow.

"People come here for business?"

The bartender shrugged one huge shoulder—he was really quite a large man— and said "Not really, but. You look the type."

Hux peered down at his own pink button down and gray slacks before saying, "Fair enough."

"Getcha something to drink?"

Hux's eyes flipped to the row of taps and a shock of pleasure curled in his stomach. Of the twelve taps, eight were local microbrews, three were larger craft brews, and the last was PBR. Of course the place had PBR on tap, he mused. Of course it did.

"What're the Strangeways?" he asked, motioning.

The bartender's smirk inched up, ever so slightly. "Hop Howler IPA and Überlin Berliner Weisse."

Hux wrinkled his brows. "What's that last one?"

"Sour wheat," the bartender replied, spinning on his heel to pour Hux a sample. "Personal favorite." He plunked the sample glass down on the bar and said, "Nice sour pucker up front with a warmer finish, so it's not as sharp as a lot of sours." He wiggled his fingers in front of his lips when he said 'warm finish' and Hux spotted short black fingernails and tattooed knuckles. In fact the entire backs of his hands were a riot of color that stopped abruptly at the wrist-- his forearms were solid black to the elbow, his biceps more twisting artwork disappearing into shirt sleeves that were too tight around rounded muscle.

Hux stuck his nose in the glass and inhaled, watching the man over the rim of it. He had gauged ears held open by black metal and stretched to the size of a golf ball. Hux could see right through them. He sipped the sample, barely registering the fruity scent before the tangy golden liquid hit his tongue.

It was a very good beer. Hux lifted the sample glass by way of requesting more and the bartender silently reached over to fill a pint while Hux swirled the last drops around in the sample glass. The foam didn't stick to the sides of the glass; it was beer clean, which, in Hux's experience, half the craft carriers in town couldn't seem to accomplish.

The bartender set the glass down and said, "You wanna open a tab?"

Hux wordlessly reached for his wallet and handed over his card. The bartender took it, eyeing the thick black plastic, and said, "I'm Kylo, by the way. Let me know if you need anything."

Hux nodded and sipped his beer. Kylo shuffled away to help other customers.

He was simply covered in tattoos. Hux couldn't see a single inch of uninked skin that wasn't his face—his tattoos crawled up the front of his neck, right up to his chin, and when he turned to help someone, Hux saw them on the back of his neck up to his hairline, clearly visible as he had his long dark hair tied into a messy bun on the top of his head.

Hux sat alone for ten minutes before Kylo floated back to him. "Still doing okay?"


"You never said who you were meeting."

"A date," Hux answered unthinkingly, pulling a face.

"She pick?" Kylo asked, giving him an amused, sympathetic sort of smile. Hux really did look rather ridiculous in this bar.

"I can't imagine why," Hux grumbled without correcting Kylo.

"Where'd you meet her?"

"Tinder," Hux spat. "God awful app."

Kylo snorted. "You could—"

Hux didn't hear what he said next because a shy, quiet voice said "Armitage?" behind him and Hux twisted in his chair to see a mousy man who looked significantly smaller than his profile picture had led Hux to believe.


Dopheld's round face broke into a slightly embarrassed smile and he said simply, "Hi."

Hux stared at him and after a brief moment, he climbed down from the bar chair, eyes flicking to Kylo almost unconsciously. But the bartender had his back to them, helping another couple.

Hux never knew what to do in these situations. Shake hands? He wasn't hugging him, that was for certain. Instead he cleared his throat, pulled out the chair next to him, and motioned for Dopheld to sit down. The moment Hux's ass hit his own seat, Kylo was back in front of them, eyeing Dopheld with something almost predatory glinting in his eye. Hux blinked at him. Kylo was looking at Dopheld the way every person he'd passed had looked at him when he'd first stepped inside—annoyed, amused, like he didn't belong. Only Kylo hadn't looked at Hux like that.


"Um," Dopheld peered between Hux and Kylo, face red and clearly flustered. "What are you drinking?" he asked Hux.

Hux looked at Kylo. Kylo said, "It's a sour. You like sours?"

"I'm not sure I've ever had one," Dopheld muttered. He seemed to shrink under Kylo's black eyed gaze and Hux actually saw him swallow, saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat before he looked over Kylo's shoulder at empty air.

Kylo lifted his brows, glanced at Hux, and Hux realized he was chewing on a safety pin when it momentarily jutted from between his lips only to be shoved back into his cheek again.

Kylo poured Dopheld a sample, and Dopheld's lips drew into a pucker like he'd bitten a lemon.

"No, not that," he said weakly.

"Kinda beer you like?" Kylo asked him.

Dopheld colored instantly. "I. Um."

Hux felt annoyance flare. Dopheld had told him he liked beer, in the few times they had chatted.

Both of Kylo's brows rose (he had a scar on the left side of his face, a single straight line stretching across his brow and eye from chin to hairline) and whirled on his heel, poured Dopheld another sample. Dopheld sipped it and when he said, "This is good, I'll take this, what is it?" Kylo's eyes flicked to Hux (Hux wasn't sure how he knew when Kylo was looking at him, but he did) and he said in unrestrained amusement, "PBR."

Hux had to struggle not to snort into his beer glass. Kylo saved him when he said, "You want another?"

"Let me try the IPA," Hux told him, smirking perhaps a bit more than was strictly called for.

Kylo winked at him.

Kylo winked at him.

Hux felt his brows shoot to his hairline and had to struggle not to turn in his seat to see if there was someone standing behind him. Before he'd fully composed himself, Kylo plopped the second glass of beer down in front of him, gave another of the many smirks he seemed to have on hand, and turned to help someone else.

Hux stared after him, half stunned into silence, and noted in a dazed sort of way that Kylo's ass looked very good in his torn black jeans.


Hux cleared his throat with a guilty start. "Just call me Hux. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, did you, uh, find the place alright? I got a little lost. I'm sorry I'm late."

"You've never been here before?" Hux demanded, voice harsher than he meant it to be.

"No," Dopheld told him, cheeks red. "But I heard the beer selection was good and you said you liked..." He trailed off and peered into his glass.

When Hux silently took a sip of his IPA, Dopheld blushed some more and took a bigger swallow of his PBR. He still made a face and Hux said, "You don't like beer at all, do you?"

"Never learned too, I'm afraid," Dopheld admitted miserably.

Hux almost rolled his eyes, but Dopheld was staring at him so forlornly, Hux was forced to take pity on him. He peered at the taps, and then waved Kylo over.

"Sup, Red?"

"Can he get a sample of the Sweet Baby Jesus?"

Kylo nodded amicably, and Dopheld said curiously, "What's that?"

"Chocolate peanut butter porter," Hux told him. "Tastes like dessert."

Dopheld perked up instantly. "They have peanut butter beer?"

Kylo set the sample down and interrupted. "They have everything." He looked at Hux and said, "You should try Star Hill's Mango Habanero IPA next. I’m putting it on once the Strangeways kicks. Probably only a couple pours left.” Hux nodded wordlessly and Kylo turned away.

Hux was staring again. The man had faint white lines radiating like lightning out from his right eye. Hux only saw them if he looked very closely, but when Kylo dropped to his knees to change the music, the blue light lighting up the underside of the bar made them glow.

The music he chose just sounded like noise at first, but the more Hux listened, the more it resolved itself. It was electronica, but unlike anything Hux had ever heard before. He was trying to follow all the time signature changes when Dopheld intruded on his thoughts.

“So, um, you work in IT. What do you do exactly?” Dopheld asked him, shouting to be heard over the music. It irked Hux because he had to lean into the other man in order to reply.

He gave his shortest, blandest answer—he already knew there wasn’t going to be a second date. Dopheld started rambling about his own job, something involving management in a corporate setting, and Hux found himself staring at Kylo’s broad back. The fabric of his black Darth Vader t-shirt was insanely thin and the bar was getting hot enough that he was starting to sweat. Where it stuck to his skin, Hux could see every exaggerated muscle.

Kylo looked around suddenly, like he knew he was being watched, and Hux jerked his head toward Dopheld. “That’s very interesting, please go on,” he babbled, somewhat unconvincing if he was being honest, but Dopheld seemed to buy it and spent the next ten minutes talking about leadership styles and unlocking employment potential while Hux wondered how exactly one went about getting black eyes.

Kylo reached for a pint glass, his jeans low enough on his hips that Hux could see the band of his boxers and more tattoos, and pressed the glass to the water jet before pouring a beer. The keg emptied with a spurt of foam and Kylo had to jump back to avoid being splashed, belly flattening against his spine and shoulders rounding to avoid the spray. Then he disappeared into the kitchen to change the keg.

“What do you think?”

“Hmm?” Hux looked around and found Dopheld staring at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “Um. I’m sorry I’m having a hard time hearing you.”

“Oh. It wasn’t important,” Dopheld said, deflating. Then:  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” He pushed valiantly. “What do you do when you’re not working?”

“Oh. I. Well,” Hux finally turned back to Dopheld again and held back his frustrated sigh. The poor man really was trying. Hux should be nicer to him. “I read.”

Dopheld blinked at him. “You read. Um. What. What do you read?”


Kylo emerged from the kitchen, dusting his hands off, and immediately started filling pint glasses with foam. When he looked over his shoulder and called, “You still want one, Red?” Hux realized he hadn’t responded to Dopheld’s question. Hadn’t even made an effort.

He nodded at Kylo and then dragged his eyes away. “Sorry. What do I read? A bit of everything I suppose. I...”

Kylo interrupted him again when he set a perfectly poured glass of beer down in front of him and swept their empty glasses away. He positioned himself in front of Hux with yet another smirk, hands hidden below the bar, and Hux realized he and Dopheld were sitting in front of the bar sink.

“What is this music?” Hux asked him. Dopheld was, once again, forgotten.

Kylo leaned forward a little. “Tennyson. You like it?”

Hux considered, and then said, “Actually I do.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I typically loathe electronica,” Hux answered, bringing the beer to his lips.

“What kind of music do you like?” Dopheld asked him desperately.

“Classical, typically,” Hux answered with a shrug, without taking his eyes off Kylo. “But I’ve been known to delve into other genres with a focus on technique. Jazz. There are few instrumental metal bands I follow.” He didn’t usually admit that. It was shameless, he decided. But surely a man who looked like Kylo had an interest in metal music.

“Tennyson, they’re these two kids, siblings, and they’re jazz trained,” Kylo told him, taking his hands out of the sink and drying them on the towel hanging from one of his belt loops before he put his forearms on the bar and leaned in. “She plays drums and he plays piano. They can recreate this shit live, it’s totally nuts.”

Hux took another sip of his beer as Kylo spoke and after he swallowed he said, “ This is good.”

“Can I try that?” Dopheld asked.

Without taking his eyes off of Hux, Kylo answered, “It’s an IPA, you’d hate it.”

“I like this!” he protested, holding up his half empty glass of porter.

“IPAs are really an acquired taste, Dopheld,” Hux answered, turning his head slightly. “They’re very bitter. You’re drinking a chocolate bar in a glass right now.”   

“That is a good beer,” Kylo added, pointing at Dopheld’s glass. “Good start for a beginner.”

Hux was staring at the hand he’d used to point with. “Is that a House of Leaves tattoo?” he asked.

Kylo grinned, showing all his teeth and stuck out his hand so Hux could see the word ‘house’ tattooed on the side of his finger in blue ink.

Hux raised a brow and when he spoke, his voice came out coy and amused, and he thought perhaps he should slow down on the IPAs. “Any other literary tattoos?”

Kylo kept right on grinning as he stepped back from the bar and shamelessly lifted his shirt. His chest and abs and hips were just as coated in color as his arms and shoulders and neck. Along his ribs on the left side, stretching from his hip bone to the area under his arm, was a beautifully rendered scene that almost looked like a watercolor; it was a night scape, complete with stars and moon, and a single tree that covered his entire side. There was a black shadowy outline of a man with his forehead pressed to the bark, and at his back, with hands out stretched but not quite touching, a ghostly woman done in stark white in a pale dress flowing into nothing.

Hux heard himself snort. “ Wuthering Heights ?”

“What can I say?” Kylo replied, still grinning so Hux could see all of his very white teeth. And were the canines just a little sharper than they should have been? “I’m a romantic.”

“Hated that book,” Hux told him, leaning forward onto his elbows and taking another gulp of beer. “Horrible people doing horrible things to each other for no good reason.”

“Never underestimate the power of pride,” Kylo told him.

“They could have been happy,” Hux argued.

“Nah, they were too alike. Catherine said so herself. What’s it? ‘ He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.' They were never meant to be happy. Just to love each other.”

Hux blinked at him, trying not to let his mouth hang open. If he’d been told this morning that he’d spend his evening discussing classic literature with a man who’d mutilated himself almost beyond recognition, he would have had a very good laugh and then fired whatever idiot was wasting his time with such nonsense.

“I’ll have to reread it,” Hux said slowly.

“You do that,” Kylo told him, low voice vibrating in Hux’s bones like the thumping bass over the speakers.

“Was that Russian on your hip?” His voice was lower than it should have been, with another man sitting right next to him, but Hux was too distracted now to care.

Kylo bit his top lip and nodded.

“What’s it say?”

“‘To go wrong in one’s own way is better than to go right in someone else’s.’”

Hux felt a smile tugging at his lips. “ Crime and Punishment,” he said, just so Kylo would know he got the reference. Then he said, “Fitting.”

“Hey, you—” Kylo started, but then a short brunette with a ring in her nose and her hair tied into three buns smacked him on the back of the head.

“Can you help someone else please?” she demanded. “Got a full bar here, dude, flirt on your own time.”

Kylo looked around with a guilty start, then settled those black eyes on Hux and said mischievously, “I was taking his drink order.”

“For ten minutes?” Her bright eyes fell on Hux. “How many drinks did you order?”

Kylo pulled back from the bar. “Sorry, Red. Duty calls.”

“I’ll try the tripel,” Hux told him with a smile.

“No you won’t.”

“I won’t.”

“You’ll try a water,” he said brightly before bustling off and leaving Hux alone.


With a guilty grimace, Hux turned his head and found Dopheld was gone, a crisp twenty on the bar where he’d been sitting.

And the bar had filled up since Hux had arrived. A whole mob of tattooed, pierced, dyed, and torn hipsters were pushing at the stools. One grabbed Dopheld’s empty seat and shoved the twenty to the edge of the bar. When Kylo reappeared with Hux’s water, he pocketed the twenty, greeted her, and hurried away again, flitting around the bar and taking order after order.

Hux sipped his water.

It was a full thirty minutes before Kylo had a spare moment to talk to Hux again, and by that time the buzz in his head was stronger. Kylo had been right; he had needed a water. The moment Kylo stopped in front of him, Hux blurted, “How’d you get your eyes like that?”

Kylo tugged down one of his lower eyelids, showing Hux the inky blackness, and said, “Ink. It’s an injection. Like a tattoo.” Then he leaned in again and said, “Like it?”

Hux smirked and shook his head. “You look like a—” He meant to say ‘nightmare’ or ‘demon,’ he wasn’t sure which. But the noise of the room and the loose fuzziness in his head all twisted and he said instead, “dream.”

Kylo’s full-mouthed grin returned, and brought with it some color that settled in his cheeks. Hux shook his head, heat flaring in his chest, and said, “That’s not what I meant to say...”

“That’s sweet, Red. But what the fuck are you dreaming about?”

Hux put his hand to his forehead and laughed.

“You got any tattoos, Red?” Kylo asked him, blessedly changing the topic.

Hux shook his head. “Of course not.”


“Absolutely not.”

“How come?”

“I like my body the way it is. I don’t need to turn myself into a pincushion to feel edgy.”

“Aw, come on.” He reached out and Hux thoroughly froze when the pad of his thumb brushed Hux’s bottom lip. “A little ring here, or a stud. Very sexy.”

Hux heart was sprinting in his ears. It was very hot in here. When had it gotten so hot in here?

He cleared his throat, suddenly, really quite glad that Kylo had made him wait to order a fourth beer.

“What’s wrong, Red? You don’t think lips rings are sexy?” he pouted.

“I’d never considered it,” Hux said, trying to clear away the thick feeling in his throat.

Kylo smiled at him, and his black eyes suddenly flicked to the seat beside Hux, filled by a buxom black woman with multicolored dreadlocks and a pointed stud in her lip. “Hey, your friend left.”

“I suppose I wasn’t a very good date,” Hux admitted, feeling his heart rate settle a bit now that Kylo didn’t his have his tattooed fingers on Hux’s face.

“That guy was a dweeb,” Kylo snorted. “Why’d you agree to go out with him?”

Hux couldn’t say the real reason: that he hadn’t gotten laid in six months and he was starting to feel antsy. Instead he said, “I’m sure most people look like dweebs to you.”  

“You don’t.”

“How sweet,” Hux responded dryly.

The little brunette appeared at Kylo’s side again before Kylo could say anything else, and snapped, “Goddamn it, Ren, I asked you to change that keg ten minutes ago! It’s in the back of the walk in and I can’t lift it by myself!”

“Sorry, Rey,” Kylo drawled, rolling his eyes. Before he turned to go, he looked at Hux. “You want another drink?”

Hux shrugged. “Surprise me.”

He poured Hux something dark and fragrant before disappearing into the back where the kegs were kept.

It was another good beer, rich, with a hint of sweetness, but not too heavy, or, Hux imagined, too high in alcohol content. Kylo was so busy when he came back, Hux didn’t have the chance to ask him what it was.

When the beer was mostly empty, and Kylo was occupied spinning in circles taking orders, Hux laid his napkin across his glass and stepped outside to smoke a cigarette.

The little patio was swarmed with people, and the air was thick with smoke. It made Hux feel almost claustrophobic—he usually hated crowded bars, but it had felt less cramped when he was sitting than when he was wading his way through the crowd. After searching for a spare seat, or a place against the wall, Hux slipped around the side of the building and found quiet.

The area was empty. There was a dumpster nearby, and some cracked vinyl chairs and an ashtray. This was probably where the employees took their smoke breaks.

He lit up and felt some of the anxiety in his chest uncoil.

He was at a strange bar, surrounded by strange people, and enjoying a very surprising volley of conversations with a man who seemed to turn strange into an artform.

Hux was going to ask for his number.

It was a ridiculous thought, really. Would Hux take him on a date? Where would they even go? Would he accept? Or—Hux remembered the way Kylo had eyed his thick black credit card with a twist of unease—was he just gunning for a very nice tip?

Hux brought the cigarette to his lips again, and turned his head when the door leading out of the kitchen opened, sticking slightly in its frame before being forced out.

Kylo stepped outside, cupped hands drawing a lighter to his lips, and drew up short. Speak of the devil. The very. Attractive. Devil. “Hey, Red.”

“It’s Hux.”


“My name is Hux. Armitage Hux.”

Kylo wrinkled his angular brows. “Kind of a name is that?”

“What kind of a name is Kylo?” Hux snorted, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

“Fair enough.”

Hux smirked at him, one corner of his lips lifting, and asked, before he could think better of it, “Got any other piercings?”

A truly obscene grin curled Kylo’s ringed and studded lips and he said slyly, “Wanna see?”

A thrill of heat raced across Hux’s chest down to his fingertips, a fluttering anticipation building in his gut. “Absolutely.”  

Kylo peered up and down the alley, stubbed his newly-lit cigarette out on the ground with one massive leather boot, and tugged the door to the kitchen back open. With a jerk of his head, he told Hux to follow.

He slipped inside, paused in the doorway, and then motioned with his hand for Hux, who surreptitiously stepped back in with him. He closed the door, and opened another one that had been concealed behind it, backed inside, and pulled Hux after him with one hand fisted in his shirt.

It was a cramped little closet, dark and full of buckets and boxes and cans—dry storage, Hux realized dimly before Kylo was shoving him back against the door, one hand in Hux’s hair, the other still tangled in his shirt.

Hux heard an amused, dazed sort of chuckle escape his lips—he’d never done anything so reckless, so thoughtless before in his life—and then he wasn’t thinking anything because Kylo was kissing him.

Hux tasted metal with the tip of his tongue, sucked at one warm ring in interest. Kylo’s tongue was soft and insistent, pushing past Hux’s parting lips, curling against his tongue and—

Hux pushed him away with a sharp inhale of breath and said eloquently, “What the fuck.”

Kylo grinned at him in the dim light squeezing in around the door jam and stuck his tongue out.

The tip of one side touched his top lip; the tip of the other side touched his bottom. His tongue was split in two.

Hux stared at him, completely dumbfounded, before throwing up his hands and saying, “Fuck it.”  He tugged Kylo back and after about ten seconds he decided that kissing someone who felt like they had two tongues was… entirely not unpleasant. It was so not unpleasant, that when Kylo bit his bottom lip, Hux groaned into his very confusing mouth.

Kylo giggled at him. “I like you, Red,” he mouthed against Hux’s jaw.

Obviously,” Hux drawled.

Kylo snorted and stepped back long enough to draw off his Darth Vader shirt. He smelled like sweat and beer and old spice and it hit Hux hard when he swung the shirt off.

Of course, his nipples were pierced—one thick ring going horizontally across each nipple, and one bar stuck in vertically. Hux pulled him back by one of his belt loops and sucked at a ring, a horrible burst of heat racing down his spine when Kylo tilted forward and moaned into Hux’s hair.

“You got a condom?” Kylo hissed into the darkness, and Hux straightened just enough to bite at his inked collarbone and chuckle. “We gotta make this quick before someone comes looking for me.”

“That’s disappointing,” Hux murmured. “In my wallet.”

Kylo’s hand slipped down into his slacks, cupped his ass, and then emerged with his leather wallet in tow. He dropped to his knees as he opened it, and Hux stared down at him with his head suddenly swimming. Somehow, he hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t quite gotten to picture Kylo on his knees.

He found the condom, and the sample packet of lube, and dropped the wallet on the floor. He went for Hux’s fly immediately and Hux pushed his own fist into his mouth. He hadn’t been touched like this in long enough that the very thought of what Kylo intended to do once he got through Hux’s layers of clothing had his dick pulsing in almost painful anticipation.

Hux unbuckled his own belt while Kylo tugged at his fly and together they managed to push Hux’s slacks and boxer briefs down over his ass.

Hux almost let his head fall back against the door while Kylo applied the condom, but stopped to look at the last minute, always one to check another's work and insure proper usage. Then he dipped his head and Hux felt that ridiculous tongue curl around the head of his cock. Hux half growled, “Jesus fucking Christ,” while Kylo giggled at him, taunted and teased him with what was far and away the best head he’d ever received in his life. It wasn’t until Kylo pulled away long enough to hiss, “ Shh,” that Hux realized he was moaning like a whore.

He pushed Kylo’s head back with one hand fisted around his ridiculous bun and said huskily, “Stop. I’m gonna finish and I’d rather you fuck me.”

Well. They were being fast and to the point weren’t they?

Kylo straightened up, but shook his head. “I don’t fuck people I don’t know.”

Hux felt his brows draw together. When he just stared, Kylo smirked again, and grabbed Hux’s hand, shoved it down his very tight pants.

Hux hissed in surprise when he curled his fingers around Kylo’s (frankly massive) cock. He felt metal. And. Ridges.

Kylo sucked one earlobe into his mouth and said, “I break condoms.”

Hux jerked his hand back and when he just let it hang awkwardly in the air, Kylo pulled away, eyes narrowing. “Problem?”

Hux licked his lips. “Just. Thinking.”  

“Mmm,” Kylo purred, stepping forward again and tracing his wonderful tongue along Hux’s jaw. “Bout what?”

“That I should really get to know you,” Hux replied, beer and sheer improbability making him bold. Kylo wrapped the sides of his tongue around the shell of Hux's ear and Hux trembled, rolled his head toward Kylo’s lips and allowed his hair to be mussed by long fingers.

“What about...can we...” he began hesitantly.

“You wanna fuck me, Red?”

“Very much.”

Kylo gave a throaty chuckle and said, “You're straight-forward. I like that.”

“You're fucking weird,” Hux told him, a sure little voice in the back of his head telling him Kylo would take that as a compliment.

“Yeah, well, you look like you could use a little weird in your life.” And he thrust his tongue back in Hux's mouth, torturing Hux with what should have felt like normal, if very fierce, kisses, and what instead felt like the most unfathomably erotic thing to ever happen in his mouth before.

He worked at Kylo's ridiculously tight pants while Kylo bit and licked at Hux's lips with hot little panting breaths. The moment he tugged the black jeans down over Kylo's thin hips and very round ass, Hux leaned back and dropped his eyes to Kylo’s groin. Kylo huffed in amusement and leaned back too, brows arched and eyes on Hux's face.

Hux lifted one brow and met Kylo's eyes.

It was tattooed.

He shouldn't have been surprised. He really shouldn't have. But with the metal ring piercing the head of his cock, and the (relatively) subtle bars positioned along the underside of the shaft, he'd just assumed Kylo had maxed the number of needles any sane person would allow near their manhood. He even had a small ring nestled against his balls at the base of his dick.

But no. It was tattooed right up to the edge of the pale head in swirling color that Hux couldn't resolve into an image in the dark.

Hux wrapped his whole first around it and watched Kylo's eyes roll back in his head. The ridges felt more dramatic than they looked and Hux had the realization that it was almost like Kylo had taken all the best things about a sex toy and all the best things about a real, living cock and stuck them together. He flicked his thumb across the ring, felt it turn over under his hand and Kylo half moaned, half giggled in his ear.

Then he said, “Come on, I have to get back to work, stop teasing.”

“I thought you were a romantic.”

Kylo bit his neck and Hux pushed him around with rough hands on his hips. Something— several somethings—fell off the wire shelf.

His ass was the only part of him not fully covered in ink. Hux slapped it, pleased when Kylo gasped, bucked, and then hissed, “Shit, Red. You really are a tease.”

Hux grinned and pressed a finger between his cheeks only to have Kylo pass him the lube, cant his hips back, and murmur very sweetly, “Oh, fuck yes.”

Hux pulled back long enough to tear the packet of lube open and squeeze it out in his palm. Kylo put his hands on the shelf and arched his back while Hux slipped two lube-slick fingers inside. He watched Kylo’s fists curl around the shelf and he stifled a moan when Hux crooked them. His fingers slid in slick and easy and he pressed a third inside just to be safe before he pulled out and lined himself up, cock dripping lube and pulsing in his own fist.

“Yeah, come on, Red,” Kylo keened softly. “You feel so good...”

Hux curled his forearm around Kyko’s chest and yanked him back, loving the way his clean white skin looked against the technicolor riot curling across Kylo's chest and neck and shoulders. He moaned when Hux pushed himself inside, the sound low and loud and vibrating against Hux’s forearm.

Hux loved this part, craved it, had missed it, and dreamt about it. He loved the way men sounded at the first press, loved drawing out deep throaty moans from men who looked like they could break most other men with their little finger. And Kylo looked like he could break most anybody just by looking at them.

Kylo arched his back even though his shoulders were flush with Hux’s chest, gave Hux the perfect angle to drive into him with quick thrusts that drew out even more of those obscene little moans until Hux shifted his hand to cover Kylo’s metal studded lips.

Kylo lifted one of his boots, braced himself on a ten gallon pickle bucket, and Hux shifted the hand he’d had digging into Kylo’s hips, reached forward and fisted that obscene cock with an ungentle stroke that made Kylo shudder in his arms and bite his hand like he couldn’t resist tasting Hux’s skin.

Kylo came first, dropping his fist with a particularly loud cry to catch his come before it tainted a box of wire scrub brushes.

Hux dug his teeth into Kylo’s shoulder, shifted both hands to the other man’s hips, and fucked into him so hard and so fast, Kylo’s deep voice rose about an octave and he half squeaked, “Oh, Jesus Christ, Red...” before Hux bit down hard and came as quietly as he could in the dark closet, dick pulsing so furiously, he felt Kylo clench down on it in response.

They were both curled forward, panting, and Hux laid his forehead against the back of Kylo’s neck.

Kylo’s breathed, “God, that was…”

“You said make it quick,” Hux protested, disentangling himself with one hand curled around the base of the condom.

“I’m not complaining,” he said with a chuckle. “For a guy who starches his pants, you’re a little freaky aren’t you, Red?”

Hux leaned his head against the door and grinned. “You shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover, right?”

Kylo wiped his hands on the bar towel hanging from his belt and tugged his pants up. He was grinning at Hux as Hux slid the condom away and tied it off. Then he came forward and kissed him again and Hux’s very satisfied cock still gave an interested little twitch in response. Really, that tongue...

“Here, gimme that,” he demanded, holding out the bar towel. Hux deposited the condom in the middle of it, and Kylo bundled it up for what Hux desperately hoped was permanent disposal. That towel was beyond redemption as far as Hux was concerned. Kylo pulled back then and searched the floor for his T-shirt while Hux did up all his buttons again and re-buckled his belt.

When Hux felt presentable once more, Kylo grinned at him and came forward, one hand holding the towel out of the way, the other carding through Hux’s hair. Kylo couldn’t seem to resist giving Hux a few more deep kisses that left Hux’s head spinning, and they both jumped when the knob twisted.

Kylo said, “Shit,” and pushed back hard. When the door stuck, whoever was on the other side pounded on it three times and started shrieking.

“Kylo, I swear to fuck if you’re in there with that little ginger twink from the bar I’m gonna make Poe fire you.”

Hux gaped at Kylo while Kylo covered his mouth and giggled. “I am not a twink,” he hissed, under his breath.

“He’s not a twink!” Kylo called out, making Hux slap his chest. “Go away!”

“If you’re not behind that bar in three minutes, I’m taking half your tips for the night.”

They both listened to her storm off and the kitchen suddenly got much louder—apparently they’d had an audience.

“Don’t worry about her,” Kylo told Hux. “She’s just pissed her boyfriend started boning the boss.”  

Hux raised a brow. “And she shouldn’t be?”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that, they’ve got a thing. But usually Finn works Friday nights with us, but Poe wanted to take him out— it’s a whole thing.”

Kylo waved his hand and tugged the door open. Hux followed him, squinting under the fluorescent lighting. Someone peered around the corner at the sound of the door opening and a cook with a very tall, brightly colored mohawk wearing cut off jeans and a torn Sailor Moon t-shirt said blandly, “Gay.”

Kylo flipped him off and stuck his tongue out while the cook squinted at Hux and then said, “He can’t be back here with those shoes on, Ren, you’re gonna get us sued.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going.”

He led Hux outside and tossed the bar towel into the dumpster, while Hux said, “What’s wrong with my shoes?”

“Gotta be non-slip. Health code shit.”

“What’s the health code say about getting bent over a pickle bucket?”

Kylo snorted.


Hux washed his hands in the bathroom and couldn’t keep the grin from his face. When he lifted his head and looked in the mirror, his hair was a complete disaster and he realized he’d missed a button. He fixed it before stepping back out to the bar and closing his tab. Rey closed him out, refusing to let him anywhere near Kylo. She watched him sign it with her arms crossed over her chest, chewing ominously on her tongue ring. Hux left thirty dollars on a forty dollar tab and then slipped her a crisp fifty all to herself.

She looked decidedly more cheerful after that. Even gave Hux a slip of receipt paper to jot his number down on. He watched her hand it to Kylo just before he stuck a cigarette in his mouth and slipped back outside. It dangled unlit from his lips as he pulled up the Uber app on his phone.

“Hey, Red!”

Hux looked up and turned around, saw Kylo wading through the tattooed crowd with a flyer in his hand. “You like music right?”

“Sometimes,” Hux said slowly.

Kylo thrust the flyer forward, and when Hux looked down he read, ‘Knights of Ren’ in spiky bold print. “Got a show next week. Come see me.” When Hux glanced back down, he saw Kylo had jotted down his phone number in the flyer’s white margins.

He gave Kylo a rather coy look as he slid the flyer into his leather bag, but didn’t say anything. He’d go. He already knew he would, and he’d probably hate it. But.

He glanced down at his phone when Kylo just stared at him, black eyes glinting in the dim patio light. His uber had arrived.

Hux started to say, 'See you around,' because Kylo certainly wasn’t the only one who could play it cool, when Kylo grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him again.

Hux wanted to do that again. He really, really did.

“See you around, Red.” Bastard, Hux thought with an amused smirk.

He bustled back inside, walking with quick, authoritative steps, and Hux turned toward the street.

A small group of tattooed freaks was watching him with raised brows. Hux drew up short when he saw them. Then one of the girls said, “Alright, Red,” one of the men whistled, and two more of them catcalled, making appreciative whooping noises.

Maybe the freaks weren’t so bad after all, he mused. Hux peered back over his shoulder, found the dark, broad shape of a very strange man sweeping dirty beer glasses off a bar, and grinned.