Hux leans against his doorframe, swooning slightly. He’s wearing a black tank top and black boxer briefs and looks very cold with his arms wrapped around himself tightly. There are dark circles under his eyes and his hair is mussed. Kylo is surprised that Hux even opened the door. He’s hardly conscious. Someone might see him in the state he’s in, and Hux wouldn’t even know.
“What do you want?” Hux asks. It comes out a bit mumbled. “Sir,” he adds after a moment, like an afterthought.
“I…” Ren says, and shakes his head. This is ridiculous. He can take what he wants. “Let me in.” He pushes Hux aside and walks into Hux’s quarters. The lights are dimmed to twenty percent, and there’s a low hum of engines playing on the sound system—the white noise that Kylo knows Hux needs to lull him to sleep. There’s a swoosh of a sliding door behind Kylo and then a soft sigh. He turns around where Hux is leaning again against the now closed door, but he’s more slumping, as if trying hard to maintain upright posture and failing terribly. He really does look only half-lucid.
“You took the stim.” Kylo frowns. He told Hux not to do this shit anymore. This is no way to get decent rest, especially not with those horrifyingly potent injections Hux usually uses that knock him out cold.
Hux’s eyes droop and it’s a testament to how drugged he is that he’s not even arguing. Kylo feels him forcing himself to stay alert, as Hux pushes himself off the steel door and takes a few unsure steps. Kylo moves to catch him before the idiot falls over and cracks his head open.
“What did you want?” Hux slurs, melting in Kylo’s arms.
“Nothing.” Klyo grips Hux tighter. He is surprisingly heavy when he’s like this, half-dead on his feet. For some reason it sends a wave of arousal through Kylo’s body and he swallows, hoping that Hux won’t notice.
Hux slaps Kylo’s arm, but it’s too weak to even register. “You never want nothing. What was it?”
Kylo looks away. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admits.
Hux swats Kylo again, and before Kylo can tell him to stop fucking hitting him, he takes Kylo’s chin and turns his face back toward him. “So you were hoping for a fuck.”
Kylo won’t deny it. What would be the point? Instead he hoists Hux’s body a bit up, because Hux was slumping again, drooping into the floor. Hux’s head lolls on Kylo’s shoulder and he sighs. He sounds content, and after a second Kylo feels Hux nuzzle his neck, humming something. This is… this is odd, Kylo thinks. They do fuck, but they do not hug or cuddle, so it’s unsettling to have Hux so close and warm, and growing heavier by the second.
“Let me get you to bed,” Kylo says, swallowing again and trying to untangle himself from the octopus-like grip of Hux’s arms. He takes a few steps toward Hux’s bedroom, but Hux isn’t making it easy, so in the end Kylo huffs and bends down, hoisting Hux up and carrying him bridal style to the bed. Hux is terribly uncomfortable to carry, all long limbs that catch on just about anything on the way. Kylo intended to put him down gently, but Hux slips from his grip and hits the side of the bed with a painful noise.
“Careful,” Hux whines, and for some reason it makes Kylo chuckle. He throws a blanket over Hux’s body, not caring if it lands a bit awkwardly, covering half of Hux’s face, and sits down on the bed beside Hux, rubbing his palms over his eyes. He’s so damn tired too, but he doesn’t want to revisit the dreams that have been haunting him for the last few nights again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to even fall asleep with that dread looming in his head like this.
He flinches when he feels Hux’s hand sneak out from under the blanket and tug on Kylo’s leg. He lowers his hands. “What?”
Hux’s hand crawls up and he grips Kylo’s sleeve, tugs more, until Kylo leans over him.
“You could, y’know?” Hux’s voice is breathy. Kylo wonders if Hux’s already sleep-talking.
“I could what?” He’s too tired to rummage around Hux’s head for answers.
Hux closes his eyes, sinks down on the pillow. His mouth is half parted, breath almost evened out. But then he cracks his eyes open again and half-smiles. “Fuck me.”
Kylo rolls his eyes. “You’re asleep, Hux.”
“So?” Hux says. His smile broadens even as his eyes close again. He looks almost angelic—features all smoothed out, those pale eyelids crossed with small rivulets of blue veins, light golden eyelashes fluttering and lips soft, pink, parted in invitation.
“So, I’m not fucking you in your sleep.” Kylo is perhaps a bit morbid, but having sex with a non-responsive corpse is a bit too much even for him.
“Why not? I’d like it.” Hux licks his lips. Now he’s definitely sleep-talking, Kylo thinks, but Hux tugs on him again, until Kylo half lies over Hux’s body, hunched, with his lips practically pressed to Hux’s. “I’d really, really like it if you fucked me in my sleep.”
Kylo wants to laugh again but the feedback that he’s getting from Hux indicates desire, and that’s… that’s just wrong. “You can’t be serious,” Kylo says, but his heart starts beating heavily. There’s just something in the way Hux is so pliant, warm, soft, all welcoming and perfect underneath Kylo’s hands—like the Force wanting to be shaped, luring him in. “You wouldn’t even feel it.”
Hux’s words are almost inaudible, but Kylo makes out: “I’d feel it in the morning. The lingering stretch. Your seed leaking out of me.”
Kylo shakes his head. “You’re high,” he says, and pushes himself up and away from Hux. Hux’s hand reaches, his slim fingers moving in search of Kylo’s body, and he stops patting around only when he finally meets Kylo’s thigh again. He pulls Kylo’s leg closer and nuzzles into it, curling up into a little crescent moon shape.
“Mmmm,” Hux hums. Then there’s nothing but light snoring.
Kylo stays still for a few moments and then settles back on the bed, feeling defeated. He observes Hux’s delicate fingers twitching on Kylo’s leg as Hux starts dreaming.
Kylo wonders how Hux can relax in his presence enough to sleep. How can he trust him enough? But then, maybe Hux is not wrong and Kylo isn’t a threat to him. After all, what would Kylo do without him?
Kylo has been so alone for as long as he can remember, forever alone in his decisions, alone in his torment. But he did have masters to follow. He did at least have someone who would care about him, even if only to manipulate him and use him for their own means. But now, now he’s all alone. There’s no one who cares anymore.
There’s no one who even knows him slightly, except for Hux.
He reaches out and traces the lines of Hux’s arm, then neck. So fragile, he thinks. So breakable. Hux is a small prickling ball of angry energy, always ready to strike like an aggravated snake, ruthless, plotting, driven by ambition and fear. So when he’s awake his mind feels like a knife to Kylo, sharp and cutting, but shiny, elegant, and efficient at the same time. Like this, with his chest rising and falling steadily, his face soft, features relaxed, he looks deceptively young and sweet, like a poisoned cake Kylo should not touch.
So of course Kylo does, because he has never been good at restraining himself.
He leans closer and slips his finger into Hux’s mouth, outlining Hux’s sharp teeth. He’ll bite your head off one day, he thinks. If anyone is capable of bringing Kylo down it’s Hux—not the Resistance, not Skywalker, not Rey. It’s always been Hux: cunning, scheming behind Kylo’s back, challenging him, luring him into this sense of false safety and intimacy in this bed. One day he’ll finally stab him in the back when Kylo’s least expecting it, just the way Kylo has done to Snoke.
Hux’s arms are milky white, visible where the blanket has slipped down, but Kylo knows that when he takes a closer look they are dusted with light barely-there freckles, like a cream custard seasoned with golden cinnamon spice. Kylo has to check to see if it’s real, if Hux truly tastes like cinnamon, so he leans closer and licks Hux’s skin starting from the vulnerable place in the valley of Hux’s elbow and up to his collarbones, so sharp and protruding. Hux doesn’t wake but he whines in his sleep and stretches, moving his head as if to give Kylo better access.
Kylo knows he won’t sleep. He’s wired so tight. He came to Hux hoping for—he doesn’t know what exactly. To fight maybe, or maybe to fuck, like Hux mentioned. It’s true that sex helps them both calm down enough to drowse. And sleeping together has proved to be beneficial too, so Kylo’s not in a hurry to leave Hux’s bed. He wonders if Hux was serious about wanting Kylo to fuck him while he sleeps. He knows Hux was out of his mind on the stim when he said that. But then…doesn’t that mean he was being honest for once?
He sighs and slumps back on the bed, slipping lower to get under Hux’s blanket. He’s in line with Hux’s chest now, and he moves his face to inhale Hux’s scent—clean, always so clean, as if Hux is an android rather than a human with bodily fluids and bodily needs. Kylo wants more so he nuzzles up, repositioning Hux’s arm until he can stick his nose in his armpit, longing for more of the intimate smell. And there it is—a bit of real Hux, sweet and a little acrid, perfect, making Kylo’s mouth water, making him want to take. He licks Hux there and then bites lightly, knowing that if Hux were awake he’d never allow Kylo such filthy behavior. Or maybe he would; Hux is full of surprises in bed.
Something twists in Kylo’s mind and suddenly this is not enough, he wants to eat Hux, devour him and bathe in his scent. He dives lower under the blanket, sighing at the smell radiating from Hux’s sleep-warmed skin. He kisses Hux’s belly—so soft. He knows that Hux isn’t exactly proud of his physical prowess, but Kylo cherishes it right now with all that he can. He just loves that soft skinny tummy. It’s so innocent and he’s the only one who can see it and kiss it.
He slips his arms under Hux’s legs and slides off the boxer briefs. He opens him up, then takes a deep lick. The scent there is just right. This is what he’s been yearning for. He licks again and again, wanting to get closer, wanting to take a bite of that delicate flesh—but Hux wouldn’t care for teeth marks on his ass, he’s sure of it.
Kylo’s cock is throbbing where it’s trapped and rubbing against the sheets, and Kylo reaches for it with one hand, giving himself a tight squeeze while Hux’s leg falls to the side, as if he’s exposing himself further for Kylo on purpose. Hux emits a dreamy sound and that’s it, that’s all it takes to make Kylo decide. He hoists himself up and rummages for the bottle of lube that he knows Hux keeps in the drawer by his bed, then coats his fingers with a generous amount of it, knowing that Hux won’t be able to tell him if he’s ready.
He checks if Hux is really asleep when Hux stretches at the first touch of Ren’s lubed finger entering him, but yes, Hux’s is still unconscious, the dull buzz of his mind not unlike that white-noise thing that Hux uses to unwind.
It’s weird to have Hux so relaxed, not protesting any of Kylo’s movements, not pushing him forward, not speeding things up. Kylo thinks that he wouldn’t mind awake-Hux allowing him to play with his body like this—with no rush, just taking it as Kylo gives. He works Hux open, slowly, gently, meticulously, enjoying the process maybe more than he’s ever enjoyed anything. When he deems Hux ready, after what must have taken almost a good half an hour, he lines himself up with Hux’s entrance and stays like that, hesitating. There’s no coming back from what he’s about to do. He’s not sure if it’s something he’ll forgive himself for.
Hux’s eyelids flutter half-open when Kylo pushes in. There’s something like recognition in the dizzy green of his irises, and then Hux closes his eyes again, moans lightly, and falls back to sleep. Kylo thrusts again and again, and soon Hux’s eyes crack open once more and he outright gasps then.
“Oh,” he says, half-lucid. “Good.”
Kylo leans closer, kisses Hux on the lips, then nuzzles under his ear, biting the earlobe lightly. Hux’s ears are so small, so delicate and soft.
“This is what you wanted?” Kylo asks.
“Mmmm,” Hux hums. He sounds pleased.
It’s slow, it’s dreamy, it’s a bit mad, with Hux falling back into slumber and Kylo catching him just before he can succumb to unconsciousness again, and then doing it again and again. The look on Hux’s face is one that Kylo has never seen—it’s deep pleasure, relaxation, desire, and something else that Kylo can’t really name. Hux’s little, half-asleep gasps and moans keep him going, and Kylo wishes this would never end. It’s the most intimate, gentle thing he’s ever done in his life. Despite Hux being only half-conscious, it’s also the most connected Kylo’s ever felt to anyone.
When Kylo comes, what feels like hours later, Hux is still pliant and warm in his arms, smiling lightly in his sleep, taking every drop of come Kylo pushes into him without even knowing it.
Kylo then collapses back next to Hux and covers them with the blanket. Hux’s scent is so much more potent now, mixed with Kylo’s. His skin is pleasantly heated when Ren breathes in, nestled under Hux’s arm with his face pressed to his side.
When his eyes droop he feels Hux’s hand gently trailing Kylo’s spine—an unaware caress— and then Kylo’s dreaming too.