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The swamp had long since overtaken the stone of the temple, moss smothering the ancient gray stones and vines covering the walls as if slowly trying to pry them apart. Droopy trees rose out of the shallow water, with shaggy, chiffon-like green wisps hanging from the long thin branches that arched down into the water.

Major Hux eyed the temple with distaste. It figured that the Jedi couldn’t have set up shop somewhere with indoor plumbing and a shuttle port.

Kylo Ren ignored the disgust radiating off of Hux. “This is it,” he said, voice made deeper by his helmet’s vocoder. “I can feel it.”

“It had sure better be,” said Hux. “I can’t be away from the ship for one more cycle. I am needed—”

Kylo ignored him, as usual, gesturing for the stormtroopers to wait outside and starting to mount the crumbling steps.

Hux grit his teeth and struggled along after him. He had long since given up being comfortable, the muggy air oppressing him sorely after a lifetime spent in the climate-controlled comfort of ships, but resented Kylo’s seeming tolerance of the crushing humidity despite his cloak, boots, gloves, and helmet.

It had not been Hux’s idea to accompany Kylo on his quest. But the Supreme Leader had commanded it directly, and one did not question the Supreme Leader. Cue the week spent in a shuttle being ferried from slimy mudpit to sandswept desert to frozen tundra and finally to this backwater swamp, which combined the rustic charm of the slimy mudpits and refreshing heat of the sandswept deserts into a particular brand of hell.

At least it was cooler inside the temple, and dryer. And much larger than it had seemed from the outside. Yellow beams of light came through chinks in the walls and ceiling, illuminating patches of temple—here a group of ornate spirals cut into the walls, there a primitive floor mosaic, all connected by long passages peppered with impossibly well-preserved bits of wooden sculpture.

Hux found himself with one hand on his blaster and the other on his hidden knife as they headed deeper into the temple. Normally Kylo would have picked up on his discomfort and made a sarcastic comment, but the dark knight was absorbed by something else, helmeted cocked as if listening. He stopped at a fork in the passage and raised one had in either direction.

“Always with the drama,” Hux muttered under his breath.

Kylo turned. “Big talk, coming from you.”

Hux bristled, though this was preferable to being ignored. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Poncing around the ship with that greatcoat of yours flapping—”

“It does not ‘flap’! And I do not ‘ponce,’ whatever that means—”

Kylo stiffened suddenly, as if hearing something. “That way.”

“Ah, yes, choose the darker way that leads downward,” said Hux as he followed him. He turned on the torch he had brought along, illuminating dripping lichen-covered walls. “Nothing bad ever came of heading downward into the pitch-black heart of a forbidden dark temple on a stinkhole world wrapped in swamp gas, covered in fetid water and teeming with scaly man-eating creatures the size of banthas. Yes, by all means, lead us further down into—”

Kylo’s hand twitched, and Hux was flung into the wall.

“Like a child,” grumbled Hux, shuddering as he brushed the wet mold off his sleeve. His hair was down over one eye, but there was nothing he could do about that, as the impact had broken its gel cast. “I was merely expressing my opinion on this mad undertaking—”

“We are here by order of Supreme Leader Snoke. Are you questioning his word?”

Hux decided to take a break from complaining.

It seemed like years before they reached the heart of the temple, as Hux’s chronometer had gone on the fritz as they approached the temple. They were too deep in the temple for the sunlight to penetrate and give him some idea of time, the sole luminescence coming from his torch and the faintly glowing green algae covering the cavern walls. Rather unsettlingly, Hux’s usually infallible internal clock and gotten tangled up somewhere in his intestines, and he couldn’t tell if he had been down there a matter of hours or days.

“A cave,” said Hux as the passage widened into what was more precisely a cavern, deciding that even Snoke would allow some commentary at this turn of events. “A cave with what is doubtlessly bottomless black lake in the middle. How the galaxy’s travel bureaus have overlooked this hidden gem is a mystery. Still, the hordes of tourists would have ruined the unspoiled natural beauty that is slimy rock, black water, and algae.” He lifted his boot and pointedly scraped the sole along a rock, as if demonstrating the proper technique for removing bantha poodoo to a class of cadets.

Kylo ignored his performance and examined the cave.

“There,” he said, pointing. At the end of the a long strip of algae-covered rock, about fifty feet inside the lake, was a small island with an altar.

“An altar?” sniffed Hux. “How old is this temple?”

Ren strode along the rock path. Hux followed him, just to show that he was not at all uneasy about being surrounded on all sides by silent, inky black lake. Not that he was afraid of it, of course. He was a major in the greatest army in all the known universe. But he hadn’t gotten there by being stupid.

Hux poked the altar gingerly with his gloved finger. There were questionable rusty stains on the stone. “Do what you came here to do, Ren, and let’s get out.”

Kylo was crouched at the side of the altar, reading something off the side. Hux peered over his broad cowl-draped shoulder. Ancient-looking glyphs, half-eroded with age and damp, covered the side.

“Can you actually read that gibberish?”

“Shut up. These are holy texts.”

Hux was irrationally pleased to have elicited a response. “Not so much ‘texts’ as some Sith hermit with a chisel.”

“It’s not Sith.” Kylo continued to read silently, seemingly following the gibberish—

A splash.

A definite splash.

Hux’s head jerked towards the sound.

A ripple.

A definite ripple.

Hux’s fingers tightened on his blaster. “Are you quite finished?”

Kylo straightened. It was hard to tell with that silly mask on his head, but Hux almost thought he was in shock.

“Ren?” said Hux. “We found the temple. You read the text. We’ve achieved our objective. It’s time to go.”

“Not quite,” said Kylo, coming to life. He darted a glance over at Hux. “There’s a…ceremony.”

Hux sneered. “A ceremony? I’m afraid I left my hooded cloak and incense at home, and flunked Chanting at the academy.”

Kylo hesitated, then seemed to come to decision.

“Strip," he said.


Kylo gestured at the altar. “Strip, and get up on there.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take your clothes off, and get up on the altar.”

“I heard you the first time!” Hux’s voice echoed off the cavern walls. “Have you gone mad? Were you ever sane to begin with?”

“Keep your voice down!” Kylo hissed through his vocoder. “The beast is not to be woken yet!”

There was a beast. Of course there was a beast.

“ ‘Yet’?” Hux took a step towards the rock causeway. “I refuse to go along with—whatever the kriff this is.”

“ ‘This’ is a ritual to increase my connection to the Force, that’s what the kriff it is!” snapped Kylo, finally sounding like an actual human being despite the vocoder. “I’m not any happier than you are, all right? I had no idea what the texts would say. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“You are asking me to strip naked and hop up on an altar with some very suspicious stains.”

“I’m not going to kill you. I had no idea this would be part of the ritual.”

Hux hated how erratically his heart was beating. “Snoke must have. That’s why he ordered me along.”

Kylo sighed. “It’s possible.”

“Well, you can tell that bald old alien to go—” Hux stopped, common sense gaining the upper hand. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Just strip.”

“I refuse.”

Kylo clenched his fists, then removed his helmet.

Hux’s eyebrows shot up. Kylo Ren was younger than he had expected, for one thing. No more than twenty-five or six, with a long boyish face and a mane of thick black hair that was far too glossy given how humid this swamp planet was and far too full after being mashed down by the helmet. A Force power, evidently.

“Your turn,” said Kylo.

Hux swallowed. Kylo’s voice had lost the artificial deepness leant by the helmet’s vocoder, but it was still deep. He couldn’t tell if he quite liked the face, though. It was an unusual face, to be sure, and Hux, as a product the First Order, had not been raised to prize the unique.

“Now,” said Kylo, laying a hand on his lightsaber at his hip, and Hux stuck his chin out and unfastened his tunic. He slipped out of it slowly, one arm at a time, and carefully folded it over his arm, as if he were in his own chambers after a long shift on the bridge.

“And now you,” he said, as snippily as he could manage.

He expected a fuss, but Kylo reached up and unwrapped his cowl, dropping it on the altar.

“That doesn’t count,” said Hux. It wasn’t all that cold in the cavern, but he found himself shivering.

Kylo frowned, full mouth twisting, but he took off his long black robe-like piece of clothing and lay it on the altar with the cowl and helmet.

Hux removed his boots, lining them up neatly beside the altar.

Kylo removed his tunic. He was broad and muscular underneath the tunic, with a pair of high-waisted black leather trousers, suspenders, and a long-sleeved shirt that left his muscular abdomen exposed.

All right. So unique could be good sometimes.

But Hux looked away, because that was exactly the kind of injudicious eye-drifting that had earned him Brendol’s wrath as a child, and removed his suspenders.

“Really?” said Kylo.

Hux flushed and tugged off his undershirt too. “Happy?”

“Do I look happy?” Kylo pulled off his boots.

Hux swallowed a childish “You never look happy,” as he wasn’t sure if that were true, what with the mask, and laid his gloves on the altar.

“Breeches,” said Kylo, taking off his own gloves.


“Do it yourself, or I do it for you.”

Hux grit his teeth but complied. He wasn’t afraid of Kylo Ren, he told himself. And he wasn’t obeying because Kylo outranked him, as Kylo had no official rank and Hux had been promoted to major a full year ago. This was the Supreme Leader’s will, and he, Hux, was a good and loyal soldier.

For now, at any rate.

Kylo waved his hand, and the clothes floated off the altar, settling down on a nearby rock. All except the cowl, which he draped over the altar.

“That cowl is probably filthier than anything that could have been done on that altar,” said Hux. The cowl was too much like  a tablecloth making him, once he got up onto it, the meal.

“Want to bet? Now get up.”

Hux hopped up onto the altar. It was humiliating, but the knowledge that he should have been at least three times as humiliated as he was made his cheeks redden more than being mostly naked in the presence of the one man he hated most, now that his father was dead.

“Now hold still,” said Kylo, and Hux’s head snapped up.

In Kylo’s hand was Hux’s knife.

“You are insane—” Hux yelped as he was slammed down onto the cowl-covered stone by an invisible hand, not as sharply as Kylo could have but none too gently. He was frozen, spread-eagle, like a piece of meat to be carved.

“Madman!” he choked out as Kylo reached towards him with the knife. “We are not savages! We are the First Order, and this is simply not done—stop that! I will report you to human resources! I will write you up faster than you can blink, don’t think I won’t!”

Kylo pressed the knife to Hux’s smooth white skin, looking like a sculptor examining a block of marble prior to making the first tap with his chisel, and carved a foreign symbol into Hux’s chest, a good ten inches across.

Kriff. Kriff. Kriff kriff kriffity kriffing kriff.

Kylo used the blood to draw on Hux’s face, then his own, marking them both with savage-looking sweeps and spirals. Then dragged his fingers through his glorious hair in a surprisingly human gesture amongst all this madness and looked down at Hux for a moment as if lost in thought.

“Ren, you maniac—”

Kylo got down on his knees on the side of the altar and began to chant.

Aktha dubakk huthar tyrakth,” he chanted, the arcane words sounding strange coming from someone as large and intensely physical as him. “Aktha dubakk huthar tyrakth. Aktha dubakk huthar tyrakth—

Another splash, a loud one this time that couldn’t be explained away by dripping stalactite, and Hux saw not a ripple but a wake, as if something large were speeding towards them directly beneath the surface.

Large and unpleasant.

And then tentacles exploded out of the water, long, red, honest-to-goodness tentacles, bursting out of the water and wrapping around Hux’s wrists and ankles like slick muscular ropes and holding him in place even after Kylo released him with the Force.

Kriff!” Hux screamed, none too originally, but his mind was blank with panic. “Ren, you bastard—”

Another tentacle slithered up over the side of the altar, feeling around until it found Hux’s boxers. It tugged it down almost gently, easing them down over his legs and releasing one ankle at a time in order to slip them off.

Hux used the opportunity to kick Kylo in the face but the tentacles quickly slipped around his ankles and bound him again.

Hux didn’t bother cursing. He was almost outside himself, watching this nightmarish tableau unfold like a bad holodrama smuggled into the Academy. Himself, spread out pale and white on the black-draped altar. Red tentacles at his wrists and ankles. The hulking form of Kylo Ren kneeling between his knees on the altar, black head bowed. The darkness of the cave, faint green phosphorescence reflecting off the lake. The bright crimson blood on their skin.

Where had his torch gone? If Hux had been allowed one question then, that would have been it. Hysterics, perhaps, but he prided himself on the care he took of his uniform and equipment. His regulation away-mission torch, he had lost it, now he would have to fill out a half-dozen forms—

A hand closed around his thigh, and he forgot about the torch.

Kylo’s hand was huge. It was able to grip Hux’s narrow leg like a child gripping a sports stick.

Kylo let it stay there for a moment, then removed it. His uncertainty cleared some of the dazed mist from Hux’s mind.

“Is this the first time you’ve done this?” Hux asked, forcing himself to sound calm

“This is the first time anyone has done this in thousands of years.”

“I mean, had sex with a man.” Because only a fool couldn’t tell where this was going, and Hux was no fool.

Kylo flushed at the word “sex.” “I’m not a fag.”

That was the same word his father used to use, and the thought of his father made him flare with angry heat that burned away the last of the mists from Hux’s mind.

“Me neither,” he said, emphatically. “But I meant—any sex.”

“Of course I have,” said Kylo, but his boyish face, unused to being exposed, told the real story.

Hux sneered. “Quite a story you’ll have for the grandkids someday. You might want to tone down the rape part—”

Kylo flinched. “It’s not—that.”

Hux strained at his living bonds, rangy muscles standing out along his thin white arms. “What the hell do you call this, then? Foreplay?”

“You’ll want it, soon enough.” Kylo glanced away, watching one of the tentacles slowly rising up over the side of the altar, muscles glistening in the phosphorescence.

“I don’t know what the hell kind of Force trick you’re thinking of using or how the hell this works on whatever degenerate New Republic backwater you’re from, but inducing consent is rape, plain and simple! Kriff!”

“You need to learn some new swear words.”

“Kriff you! You’re a lunatic—”

The tentacle coiled down, brushing Hux’s cheek, touching his lips with the pointed tip.

Hux swallowed hard and clamped his jaw shut. He’d have plenty of time to shout abuse at Kylo Ren when this was all over.

Presuming, of course, that he survived the encounter. The sharp pain of his still-bleeding chest was an ever-present reminder of his companion’s brutality and his own fragility.

The tentacle probed his stubbornly-shut lips curiously, stroking his chin and nose as if in an effort to find a magic button that would make his mouth open. Finally it wriggled in front of his nostrils, blocking his air.

Hux held out until the world went blue around the edges, then sucked in a ragged gasp through tightly clenched teeth.

He may as well have been wearing a welcome sign emblazoned with “Freakish Sentient Tentacle Monsters Welcome,” because the creature was in his mouth instantly, prying his teeth apart and plunging deep inside his throat.

Hux gagged and bit down hard, but the tentacle’s skin was made of something that would have put the plating on Emperor Palpatine’s pleasure yachts to shame.

It reached deeper into his throat, slick and heavy on his tongue, making Hux gag obscenely.

Kylo gazed down at him, a tentacle lazily waving at his side. “It should be over soon.”

Hux tried to reply but the attempt only opened his throat. The tentacle eagerly probed further, sliding down into Hux and then out again and then back in, as if it were covered in pleasure sensors and was enjoying the smooth wetness of Hux’s mouth and throat. It reached the base of Hux’s throat and seemed to swell, choking Hux—

Hux began to struggle madly, screaming around the fat tentacle blocking his windpipe, and the creature pulled out with a squelching sound.

Hux gave a ragged sob, and it plunged back in—in and out and in and out, the thick slickness stretching Hux’s mouth into a round pink circle—

The thick band of muscle in his mouth shuddered, and something hot squirted into the back of Hux’s throat.

He gagged, spluttering, as the tentacle slid out of his mouth. He tried to spit it out but couldn’t help but swallow some—

As soon as he did, he felt a warmth spreading over his limbs. Had he been standing, his knees probably would have buckled. His hips shifted on the hard stone, then began to rock gently in place. His flaccid cock was suddenly as stiff as his favorite Corellian whiskey, bobbing slightly as he moved.

Kriff. Kriff. Kriffity kriffing kriff.

Kylo reached down and held him still.

Hux suddenly realized what he had been doing and flushed—or rather, he would have flushed if his cheeks weren’t already flaming red with the sudden lust flowing through his veins.

“What the hell did that thing do to me?” he croaked.

“What do you want me to do?” Kylo asked by way of reply.

“Is this part of the ritual?”

“Yes. Tell me.”

Get the kriff off me, you bastard witch, said Hux’s mind, but what came out was, “Touch me. By the stars, just touch me—”

Almost timidly, Kylo slid his hand over Hux’s leg, dragging itself up over his thigh, over his hip, over his abdomen, rubbing the cuts on Hux’s chest, rubbing the blood over his skin, painting his creamy white marble crimson. 

“More,” said Hux. His voice caught in his throat. “More!”

Kylo obliged.




Hands shaking slightly, Kylo cut a curling pattern into his arm with Hux’s knife, rubbing his hands with his blood, and placed both hands on Hux’s hips. Bony, but beautiful when covered in his bloody handprints.

Beautiful, even without the blood.

He didn’t like men, not like that. Never had. But if he was going to do this…

Kylo hadn’t picked Hux. That was all Snoke.

He had been taken aback, at first, but knew better than to question his master. Let the priggish major tag along. It wasn’t like he knew what the ancient texts would say, back then.

A week in a shuttle with Hux, and it was only fear of Snoke and the knowledge that he needed him for the mysterious Force ritual that kept him from shooting the whiny prick out an airlock in charred fragments.

Then came the swamp world, wreathed in heavy white fog. The gloomy temple looming out of the scummy water and radiating a dark energy setting his teeth humming. The thrum in his bones the closer he got to the inky lake.

The ritual came as a surprise, as did the tentacles, but it stood to reason. The Dark Side thrived in discomfort, in the hellish spaces beyond one’s limits. 

And so here he was, kneeling on an altar in the center of a lake, smearing Hux’s fragile, sinuous white body with a mixture of both their blood as Hux writhed and moaned under his hands.

 He moved his hands up over Hux’s abdomen, up the sides of his narrow white chest, sliding his thumbs over the major’s nipples with the blood as lubricant, because he had once heard women liked that, and if women liked that, then maybe Hux would too, and—and—well, it wasn’t like he wanted to get Hux off, but if that was part of all this, then he meant to do it properly. That would show Hux.

He was well aware that that was ridiculous. Hux thought him a hulking, brutish screw-up, and this was not going to change that. But he wasn’t going to stand being thought of as useless at this, too.

Hux gasped as Kylo touched his nipples, pupils somehow growing even larger, and he canted forward, straining to grind his cock into Kylo’s leg.

“Please,” he whispered, and his obvious humiliation made Kylo’s cock swell in his trousers more than anything else the major could have done.

But he remembered all the times Hux had sneered at him, talked down to him, taken pleasure in his dressing-downs by Snoke, and stopped stroking the major’s nipples.

“Please what?” he said.

Hux clenched his jaw. Beads of precum were forming on the tip of his pretty pink penis. “I told you already, you insufferable ass, touch me!”

Kylo leaned back on his heels, cock pressing into the front of his leather trousers almost painfully. “And why is that?”

“Because your kriffing eel monster did something to me, and—” He jerked at the tentacle holding his left wrist, and the beast responded by tightening its coils. “Kriff!” He squeezed his eyes and settled back, still gritting his teeth. His cock was openly weeping for release, precum running down the sides like a pot slowly boiling over. “Just do something!”

Kylo opened his trousers and awkwardly took out his cock.  

“Go on, rub it!” ordered Hux, somehow managing to sound bossy and arrogant even as he lay spread and bound for Kylo’s taking. “I don’t have all day here!”

“It’s already, uh, hard—”

“Not hard enough! Just do it!”

The last thing Kylo wanted to do was obey Hux, but he didn’t know enough about sex to go about things any other way.

He dug the heels of his palms into Hux’s cuts to get him to cry out in pain, remind him who had done that to him, but Hux just whimpered in pleasure at the contact, gasped as the tip of his cock grazed Kylo’s stomach.

Kylo straightened quickly and decided to just get it over with. If only he could have been standing by and watching Hux get fucked by the tentacles, how humiliated Hux would have been! Kylo would finally have the upper hand—

He took off his trousers, just to show Hux that he was not afraid of being exposed in front of him, and worked his dick with quick upward strokes, the blood smeared on his hands acting as lube, but he couldn’t get himself past a certain point.

“Oh, by the stars, just use your fingers!” There were tears of frustration in Hux’s greeny blue eyes, sweat soaking his bright hair. “Ren, if I don’t get something inside of me—no! No! Stop!”

The tentacles, one still dripping with the white ejaculate, the others swollen and waiting, were slithering around Hux’s painfully erect cock, squeezing the base and rubbing the tip back and forth.

“Stop them!” Hux begged. It was came out in a strangled moan. “Kylo, I can’t take any more of this—kriff, why can’t I come?!?”

Kylo reached down and tried to pull the tentacles from Hux, but all that did was attract their attention. Three more exploded out of the water, where they remained, like serpents rearing up and ready to strike, and then disappeared behind Kylo.

“What are they doing?” Hux gasped. “Keep them away from me—”

Kylo yelped.

He had never been touched there. He had never even thought of touching himself there. Or any one.

He knew men had sex with each other somehow, but he had grown up in a Jedi outpost and had very little fraternization in the year since he’d come to the First Order. He had always assumed it had something to do with…rubbing each other. Or something like that.

Evidently, this was what Hux had meant by “just use your fingers!”

The tentacle was a good six inches deep inside him, and he had not been stretched. In the back of his mind he knew it should be painful, horribly so, but the tentacle was self-lubricating, and the way it slithered back-and-forth over his sensitive rim made something deep inside him clench tightly.

Hux laughed at the look on his face.

“So it got you too?” he snickered. “Kriff, this is just perfect—”

The tentacle shoved Kylo further down onto Hux, with just Kylo’s arms holding him up over the major and keeping their bodies from pressing together. Kylo felt his face burn, and he couldn’t be quite sure if it was the humiliation, or the way the tentacle was touching a secret spot deep inside him, or the way the his penis kept bumping up against the tip of Hux’s oozing, tentacle-covered cock, but a faint buzzing filled his blood, his cock hard enough to chisel stone, and his arms began to wobble, elbows weak.

And then the tentacle exploded inside him, pumping his insides with aphrodisiac and then withdrawing so that it trickled down his legs, and he whimpered out loud, tears streaming with the sudden, all-encompassing need to come, now.

Hux laughed again, eyes wild with similar need, and Kylo leaned down to cover the major’s mouth with his own, sucking his tongue into his mouth, growling, biting down on the major’s lip so hard he tasted blood.

More, he needed more of Hux inside him—

He bent his head and licked a broad stripe up Hux’s chest, savoring the coppery tang of that was Hux, flicking his tongue over Hux’s nipple as Hux writhed and moaned beneath him. He sank his teeth into Hux’s shoulder, lapping up the blood that rose from the incisions as if it were wine.

“Put it in—” Hux groaned, seemingly aroused further by the pain, “put it in, what are you waiting for, I’m going to die if you don’t put it in—”

As if understanding him, a fresh tentacle ran down Kylo’s back, lighting his nerves on fire, and plunged itself deep inside him, deeper than the first, so deep that Kylo thought he was going to split in two. So full, so warm—

“Ren!” Hux screamed, his voice bouncing off the cavern walls, and Kylo shoved aside the tentacles fondling Hux’s weeping cock and rammed his own cock into Hux’s unprepared pink hole, the tentacle ooze running down Hux’s groin providing ample lubrication.

Hux cried out at the sudden immense intrusion of Kylo’s impressive member but immediately began moving his hips, grinding closer to Kylo so that the knight was balls-deep in the major.

“Hux—” Kylo tried to say, through the haze of lust—he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say—was it an apology? Dirty talk? An attempt at commiseration as the tentacles violated the both?—but a tentacle pushed past his lips as he opened them, gagging him. Two other tentacles grabbed hold of his elbows, freezing his torso in place even as his hips thrust frantically into Hux.

“Ren—” Hux moaned, and Kylo was too far gone to interpret what that may have meant. Hux’s moan was cut off as another tentacle slid into his mouth, probing the warm slickness of his throat.

A shudder, and the tentacle in Kylo’s mouth ejaculated, filling him with so much hot white liquid that when he coughed and choked it spurted from his mouth, splattering down on Hux’s chest and mixing with their blood.

Hux’s eyes rolled back as the aphrodisiac made direct contact with his blood stream. The tentacle in Kylo’s hole squirted a second later, and Kylo was right there with Hux, all mental processes shut down except for the need to fuck, to rut, to shove his cock as far into Hux as was physically possible, to suck down a new tentacle so far into his throat that he would have blacked out had he not had to stay awake to screw the kriff out Hux.

Hux was moaning again as he twisted in unbearable pleasure, a whimpering, wounded, almost pitiful sound that would have driven Kylo wild had he had any shred of reason left to lose. Tentacle ejaculate was dribbling down Hux’s bright pink cheeks, and he looked so debauched, lying covered in blood and tentacle spunk and his own precum, and his virgin hole felt so hot, so slick, so tight around Kylo’s thick cock, and the squelching sound they made as they thrust together was so obscene, the slap of his balls against Hux’s ass so filthy, and the way the slick red tentacle so deftly rubbed at Hux’s cocktip was so dirty—

Kylo came, his entire body spasming. This was different than the few times he had guiltily jerked off in he shower. This was a white-hot illicit pleasure that filled every corner of his body, sparking nerves he hadn’t known existed and firing his brain with something so intense he forgot how to breath as his cock emptied itself into Hux.

He fell back, only the tentacles holding him up, hips still thrusting into Hux as if he had no control of them anymore, as if he had been born rutting and would die rutting.

Death was a possibility, there was no way he could feel this limp without there being some serious damage done, somewhere—

And then the tentacles caressing Hux’s livid red cock gave a final slippery twist, digging into the tip and squeezing the base and sliding upward in a pumping motion all at once, and Hux orgasmed, back arching, every muscle in his body contracting, white cum shooting out of him and painting Kylo’s face and hair as his cock wept with blessed relief.

The tentacles withdrew, sliding out of their throats and Kylo’s hole. They released their arms and legs and disappeared into the water without so much as a ripple.

Hux tumbled back on the altar, face going slack, head rolling to the side. Kylo fell beside him, slowly coming back to himself. The taste of Hux’s blood was still sweet on his tongue, and there was something else in the air, a dark ether raised by their horrible coupling, and it was glorious.

Or would be glorious, once he was able to move and be cognizant of more than the feeling of the aphrodisiac as it trickled out of various holes.

They lay there for a long time, side by side, breathing heavily.

And then Hux stirred, swinging his still-shaking legs over the side of the altar and looking around for his clothes. His face was pink, his back to Kylo, but he seemed to have made up his mind about something.

“If I don’t make general after this,” he said, pulling on a glove, “then I quit.”