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Sharper than a serpent’s tooth

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Hux stared at his face in the elevator mirror. His face stared back at him, features set, as they usually were, in a determined frown, green eyes dark and stormy. His hair was neatly parted, carefully gelled to combat any of its natural tendency to curl. Despite the day he had just had, his dark grey suit still looked impeccable, the knot of his tie perfectly centered, the collar of his shirt crisp and white.

He looked exactly the way he wanted: like an ambitious, ruthless professional. Exactly the way you’d expect someone with their own architecture firm - at not even 35, at that! - to look. Not necessarily the person you’d go to if you wanted something crazily artistic, but the kind of person you’d trust with millions of dollars to build your office tower, your airport, or your new train station. Strong. Reliable. Dependable.

Which was reassuring, because inside, at the moment, he felt like a fucking mess.

Still, somehow, he had managed to get through the day. Even though he’d hardly slept. Even though his head had been pounding during most of the day because of how much he’d stupidly drunk the night before. Even though during the entire day, his phone had felt like a red-hot brick in his pocket and he’d had to fight the urge to take it out and check it every ten seconds.

But he’d managed. And he didn’t think he’d terrified his staff a lot more than usual. No one had cried, anyway, which was a good sign.

But now, he was balking at the thought of going back to his huge penthouse apartment, perfectly clean, perfectly suited to his tastes and his needs (and of course it would be, he designed the entire building himself, after all.) The idea of spending another evening moping, staring at his phone, and drinking himself into a stupor in his picture perfect minimalist interior made him want to scream.

Thankfully, there was another option.

The elevator reached the last floor and the door opened with a cheerful ding which Hux ignored. Instead, he pressed the button for the floor right under his. The floor where his brother lived.

As he usually did, he rang once, before opening the door with his own key, since Techie often got so engrossed in his coding that he wouldn’t even hear the door.

“Techie?” he called out. He was used to the name now, even though it had taken him a while to realise his younger brother didn’t like to answer to his own name anymore, tainted as it was with negative connotations. For Hux, William was the name of the sweet, shy little brother he’d lost when their parents died, when Hux was nine and Techie seven. But for Techie, it had been the word yelled at him for years by incompetent, uncaring carers until it had lost all meaning, until it was just a series of sounds he’d learned to cringe at.

Because whereas Hux, after their parents’ death, had immediately been picked up by a family wanting to adopt him, despite his advanced age, thanks to his good manners, even better grades, and his neat, serious appearance, Techie, because he was shy, and strange, and yes, probably not entirely “normal” (and how Hux hated that word) had bounced from foster homes to specialised facilities, always left behind, always abandoned. At least until Hux was finally able to find his brother, to get him back.

And if he wanted to be called something else now, that didn’t matter. What mattered was him behind found. Being safe. Being loved.

Besides, given the fact that apart from Techie, no one ever called Hux by his first name, not even himself, he wasn’t exactly in any position to judge.

Hux called out Techie’s name once more, but there was no answer. He slipped his shoes off and made his way to Techie’s room. As usual, the rest of the apartment was pristine, like a showroom. Hux has tried his best to make it the nicest possible place for his brother, with large windows, because sometimes Techie liked to watch the sky, and vast open spaces, because he’d been so often kept in tiny, crowded places, but in the end it hadn’t worked. Techie had said it was all very nice and he loved it, all the while chewing on his lip the way he’d always done, even as a kid, whenever he was lying (Techie was appalling at lying.) And then he’d retreated to the smallest room in the place and made it an unliveable mess.

Well, to Hux it was unliveable. And many times, he had tried to tidy things up, organise things so they’d be a little neater, and each time Techie had thanked him politely, his small teeth nibbling nervously at his lower lip. And of course the next time Hux was there everything would be back to its original place, no matter how random it seemed. After a while, Hux got the message. His idea of order was not wanted there.

He knocked on the half-opened door. “Techie?” he asked again.

This time, there was an answer, a sort of happy, enthusiastic yelp that might have been a half-swallowed “Armie!”, and the sound of someone trying to disentangle themselves from various electronics. And indeed, when Hux pushed open the door, Techie was fighting to get free of his headphones, the cord of which he’d managed to wrap around himself and his chair somehow. But Techie was smiling, and his eyes unusually bright, and Hux felt himself smile back.

This was exactly why he came here in the first place. Because being with Techie, taking care of Techie, protecting Techie, seeing Techie well and happy, that was always the one thing that would cheer him up when he was feeling sorry for himself.

And he was feeling very sorry for himself. In his pocket, his phone was sitting, silent and inert, as it had been all day.

“You look happy,” he said, trying to push all thought of that as far away as possible.

Techie smiled, cheeks all pink and warm. “I am! I had a nice day.”

“Really? Tell me about it. I need to hear something nice.”

“Oh, uh…” Techie blushed a little darker. “It’s… not important. Just… just, you know. Work. It’s going well. Your website is going to run so much faster on this new platform.”

“If you say so.” Techie had this incredible gift with computers. That was how he’d acquired his nickname, in fact. Hux, on the other hand, could use modelling software competently, but had no knowledge or interest in why computers did what they did or how. He looked around the room approvingly. “Oh, you’ve cleaned! That’s wonderful!”

“Uh. Did I?”

“Yes, look, all your laundry is off your bed. That’s a good start.” Hux tried to sound encouraging. “You know, if you ever need help with any of the rest…”

“No.” Techie shook his head. “I… uh. It’s fine. I swear.”

“Okay. I won’t push. Do you want to come have a drink with me in the living room?” Hux asked, a little tentatively.

But Techie just smiled. “Sure. If you want.”

A few moments later, Hux was well on his way through his second glass of wine, jacket off, tie untied, shirt collar open, while Techie, curled up on the sofa, his legs tucked inside his long t-shirt, had barely started his first glass.

“What’s wrong, Armie?” Techie asked, his head tilted a little to the side.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to see you, that’s all,” said Hux, trying to sound convincing.

Techie looked at the floor, a little forlornly. “Don’t say that. I know you, Armie. I… I can tell when you just want to see me, and when…” He stopped, biting his lips.

“When what?”

“When you… need someone to talk to,” he said in a breath. “But I don’t mind!” he added hurriedly, looking straight at Hux. “I’m glad you come to talk to me, sometimes. It makes me feel… I don’t know, useful?”

Looking into Techie’s deep blue eyes, Hux, not the first time, berated himself for underestimating his brother. Just because he was shy and a little awkward didn’t mean he wasn’t perceptive. “You are always useful, Techie. Of course you are. But…” Hux sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I do want to talk. I…” He trailed off, unsure where to start.

Techie nodded. “Oh… so it’s about Kylo, then.”


“You get this look. Every time, it’s about him.”

Actually, perhaps Techie was a little too perceptive. “I do not have a specific look on my face about him. Or anyone. But especially not him,” said Hux in a vague attempt to defend himself, and well aware he wasn’t doing an excellent job at that.

“Hmm. So… what did he do now?”

Hux sighed. “Well. It’s… a thing I did, actually. I might have sent a text message I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh? Show me,” said Techie, holding out his hand.

Wordlessly, Hux handed Techie his phone, the message string on his screen


Kyylo you lying pievce of shit

If this is your idea of us being FAITHFUL to each other you asshoke then consider this whole thing over

I don’t even want to talk to you wber again. This is over, you hear? Over.

Oh, and fuck uou. Fuck you and duck your stupid band.

Don’t even bother writing back I’m through with you

Techie surveyed the phone with a critical expression.

“So?” asked Hux.

“There’s... a lot of typos.”

“Yes, I know, I was upset. And maybe I had too much to drink. But…” Hux looked pleasingly at his brother. “You see?”

“Uh.” Techie tilted his head to the side as though wondering whether he should speak, then he seemed to just go for it. “Yes, but… Armie, you and Kylo… this sort of thing happens a lot, right? I mean… you two fight all the time. And you always say you’re going to break up and then… it gets better? Like… every time? And it’s been what, three years now?” said Techie, turning the phone over in his hands nervously. “I mean… at first I worried a lot about you, but… I-I’m not sure this is all that serious?” His voice went a little squeaky at the end, as though he was not sure Hux would take it the right way. “What did you fight about this time?”

“We didn’t fight. Not really. It’s just… me. I did something stupid. I… I was on YouTube, and there was this video…”

“Of Kylo?”

“Yes. In Vancouver. Two nights ago. And…” Now that he was actually going to say it out loud, it did sound completely ridiculous.

“And what?”

“He just… grabbed Phasma. In front of 50 000 people. And. Kissed her.”

Techie blinked. “Uh. Isn’t Phas only into girls?”


“And, uh… isn’t she, like, basically married?”

Hux groaned.

“Don’t you think…” Hux could tell Techie was trying to say this as nicely as possible. “Don’t you think maybe… this was just a, you know, rock thing? Like… for the show? People do that, sometimes, right? Fan service and stuff. Maybe he didn’t really mean it and… you overreacted just a little bit?”

“You think?” groaned Hux. “I know. I know it’s stupid, I know I overreacted. I was feeling sad and tired and then I had too much to drink…”

“You should have come to see me,” said Techie reproachfully. “If you were feeling sad.”

“Yeah. I should have, shouldn’t I?” Hux sighed. “Anyway. The thing is, I think I went too far. Or he’s fed up of us fighting or something. Because… usually, we fight, yes, and you’re right, it’s not that serious. But…” Hux took back his phone and stared at the desperately empty screen. “This time, he didn’t text back. He didn’t call. Nothing. Do you think…” Hux swallowed nervously. “Do you think he just… just thought ‘okay, this is it. I’ve had enough of that uptight creep, I’ll go back to dating supermodels’?”

Techie snorted. “He doesn’t think you’re an uptight creep!”

Hux buried his face in his hands. “So why hasn’t he called?” he moaned.

There was a sudden loud bang, like something crashing into a wall. Like someone violently opening a door. Because, perhaps, they were feeling more than a little upset. Techie and Hux both jumped.

“Oh,” said Techie. “Do you think that could be…?”

Hux winced. It could only be one person, really.
The only other person to have a key both to Techie’s apartment and Hux’s.

“Hux! You fucking asshole, you better be here!” yelled an extremely familiar voice.

“In here!” shouted Techie back, unnecessarily cheerfully, Hux thought.

There was the sound of heavy boots echoing through the corridor (the thought “why doesn’t he ever take off his shoes in the house, I must have asked him a million times” flashed through Hux’s mind,) and then suddenly all six foot three inches of Kylo Ren were in Techie’s living room, zippered black leather wrapped around his powerful frame, messy long hair tucked uncaringly behind his pierced ears, tattoos peeking out from under a skin-tight artfully faded shirt, glaring straight at Hux with a furious scowl.

“Hi, Kylo!” chirped Techie.

“Hi, Techie,” said Kylo, his eyes fixed on Hux. “I have to talk to your asshole of a brother.”

“Sure,” said Techie, already sliding off the couch. “I’ll be in my room. You… you’ll be nice, right?”

The horrible little traitor, thought Hux. How dare he.

“We’ll see,” growled Kylo.

“Be nice,” said Techie, almost flirtatiously, the minx, “or I won’t tell you what happened to me this afternoon.”

That immediately raised Hux’s suspicions. “And what’s that?” he asked in a pointed tone.

“It’s… nothing. Just, you know, something I can’t tell my brother. Kylo knows what I mean.”

Of all the random twists of fate that were the bane of Hux’s life, the fact that his brother and Kylo got on like a house on fire was probably the worst. How utterly unfair that his own brother would take that asshole’s side.

“Fine, then. I’ll be ‘nice’, then, if I must,” said Kylo, gesturing with his hands to put air quotes around the word ‘nice’.

“Okay!! I’ll… I’ll put my headphones on, so… you know, if you guys want to…. whatever, that’s fine!” said Techie with an embarrassed little grin before turning on his heels and leaving.

Hux looked mournfully at his one chance of succour disappearing down the corridor.

“Hux. We need to talk,” said Kylo, a little unnecessarily menacingly, Hux thought.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked weakly.

“How did I know where you were? Oh, like that’s so hard. Like I don’t know what you do every day, like a fucking robot. You leave work at 7:30 because you’ve read in some fucking book that leaving any later was bad for your employees. Then you come straight here, because you’ve decided you weren’t ever allowed to have a life, and going out is “not efficient”. Then either you mope around in your sad, empty apartment, or you come here to see Techie. It’s not difficult.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t run around randomly, god knows where, like you do!” said Hux, standing up, suddenly angry, furious. “What are you doing here, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be in Vancouver?”

“I was in Vancouver. Until yesterday. And tomorrow I’m supposed to be in Toronto. But today, I’m here. Can you guess why, Hux?” Kylo growled.

“Uh…” said Hux, taking a step backwards.

“Because some fucking insecure ginger asshole decided to tell me - by fucking text message - that I was a ‘lying piece of shit’, I think it was.”

“Yeah, okay, but…”

“Because apparently I was being unfaithful, which is news to me, by the way. And then, you said you were through with me. Just like that, without any explanation. So excuse me if I took it a little personally, and I-”

“OKAY!” shouted Hux. “Okay, I get it, you don’t have to be such an asshole about it!”

“An asshole?” Kylo narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Hux, I chartered a fucking plane for this.”

“Well, I never asked you to! Besides, you don’t even care, do you even know how rich you are? And... anyway, what kind of overdramatic move is that? You could have called!”

“I…” Kylo stopped.

“Or texted,” added Hux. “Okay, yes, I admit that text I sent was… ill-advised. But you could have just called.”

“Couldn’t, really,” muttered Kylo. “Broke my phone.”


“I… may have thrown it out a window, when I got your message. It may have gotten run over. All that’s on you, by the way.”

“Really? I don’t see how any of it is my fault in any way. Besides, you have dozens of people around, couldn’t you have borrowed someone else’s?”

“Not that any of this is the point, but… I don’t actually know your number off by heart, you know.”

“You what?” said Hux, half choking.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t know my mother’s, either. I don’t even know my own. What’s the point of learning phone numbers? It’s what phones are for.”

“If you’re going to make a habit of throwing yours out of windows, perhaps you ought to make the effort!”

“Yes, but…” Kylo stopped and looked at Hux suspiciously. “You’re deflecting. You’re deflecting, you bastard, and it’s working.”

Hux shook his head. “No, I was just…”

“Don’t even try to deny it, I know you. You crafty bastard.” He shook his head ruefully. “Right. None of that matters. I’m here. Would you please tell me exactly what I’ve done wrong?”

Hux felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, god,” he groaned. “You’re going to hate me.” He sat back down on the sofa.

Kylo raised his eyes to the sky. “It’s something dumb, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea.”

“Okay. Fine.” Kylo sighed. “Okay, let’s just sit and talk about this like civilised people.”

“You… want a glass of wine?”

“I want a bottle of whiskey. I need a bottle of whiskey, I think, to deal with whatever bullshit you’re about to start spewing. But never mind. Let’s hear it.”

Kylo’s sat, his large frame dwarfing Hux, who was feeling rather spectacularly stupid. He was well aware that even though he presented an image of cool efficiency, inside he was a mess of irrational fears and overreactions. Usually, he managed to fool people well enough. But this time, he’d gone too far, and everything was about to come crashing down on him. And if as a result, Kylo decided he had enough, no one would blame him. There were limits to what someone could be expected to put up with, after all.

“Ok. So…” He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “It happened like this. Last night, I… was feeling a bit sorry for myself. So you know me, I had maybe one two many glasses of wine, and…”

“Go on,” said Kylo, his eyes stormy. Hux swallowed nervously.

“And I - don’t laugh, please, it’s not funny - and I was playing around on my phone, and then there was this video on YouTube…”

“Of what?”

“Of… well, your concert. In Vancouver. So I… clicked on it, and…”

Kylo sighed. “I thought you didn’t even like our music?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s not my thing, that’s all. Besides…” Hux buried his face in his hands. “I just wanted to see you. I was missing you,” he mumbled.

“You were?” said Kylo, sounding a little surprised, and he shifted a little closer to Hux.

“Don’t laugh. Please, don’t laugh.” Hux didn’t look up. “And there I was, watching 50 000 people I don’t know scream at my boyfriend like they all were dying to get in his pants, and then… you know what you did, you unbelievable bastard?”

Hux heard Kylo sigh. “If it is what I think it is, Hux, this is the stupidest fight we’ve ever had.”

“You kissed Phasma.”

“I kissed Phas,” Kylo repeated.

“Yes. I know how it sounds…”

“You sent me that text because I kissed Phas. On stage. Phas, our bassist. Phas, the out-and-proud lesbian. Phas, who you know full well is engaged to get married to Nastia next year.”

“I’m sorry,” wailed Hux into his hands. “I’m sorry, I know, I’m an idiot. It’s just… you felt very far away, and I was feeling very lonely, and…”

“You know, you could have called me, like a normal person, if you missed me. You don’t have to use fucking YouTube to see me, you idiot.”

“You’re always so busy. Besides… I thought it’d make me look pathetic. Whiny.”

“Oh, as opposed to right now, where you’re coming off as real smart.”

“Shut up, Kylo. I know. Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry you had to come all this way for something so unbelievably stupid…”

“I’m not,” said Kylo, and to Hux’s surprise, it sounded like he was grinning. “I’m not sorry I came here at all. You know what? Actually, hearing you call me your boyfriend, that alone was worth coming here. Do you have any idea how often that happens? Fucking never.”

“So what? Maybe I don’t spend my life saying it, it doesn’t mean it’s not true, does it?” said Hux a little grumpily.

“It’s also nice to hear it, sometimes. Now, come on.” Hux felt Kylo pull his hands away gently from his face. “Look at me. Tell me more about how you missed me.”

Hux stubbornly looked away. “I missed you. There’s nothing more to say.”

“Oh, come on. I paid ten grand to be here. Now talk.”

“Again, I never asked you to come back. It’s not my fault if you spend your money like an idiot. I just… You know.” Hux took a deep breath. “When we’re together, it’s fine, but when you go away, sometimes… I feel like you’re very far away. In another world. And you’re this great big star and everyone loves you, and you could have anyone you want, so… why would you want me?” said Hux, very aware of the unattractive whine that was creeping into in his voice.

“Because I want you. Why would I want anyone else?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hux started, his words speeding up as he went along, “because there are dozens upon dozens of nubile young teenagers with perfect bodies and your name written in eyeliner across their perfect cleavages in the front row of any of your concerts? Because all you’d have to do is smile at them and they’d follow you anywhere? Because there are literally hundreds of pages devoted to just your abs? Whereas me… I’m just me, I’m neurotic and unhealthy and stressed-out and I pretend I know what I’m doing, but really I have no idea, and I don’t even look that good anymore because I can’t find the time or energy to work out, and I’m boring and I’m uptight and I keep picking fights with you even though I don’t want to, and you… you’re this… this fucking rock god that has no business being with someone like me?”

It felt as though Hux couldn’t breathe anymore, as though he was was going to choke, but suddenly Kylo’s arms were around him, he was being pressed against Kylo’s chest, warm and welcoming, and Kylo’s lips were against his brow,

“Hux. Hux, stop. Just… don’t.” He made a soft, soothing shushing sound, as though comforting a child, and it should have been humiliating but somehow it wasn’t. “It’s okay. I’m here. I love you. I don’t want anyone else. And you know, those girls? They don’t want me. They want what they see on stage. It’s not me. You think I don’t know that? You think I’m not just as insecure as you are?”

Hux scoffed, the sound worryingly close to a sob. “What would you have to be insecure about?”

“Oh, really? Let me see.” Kylo started counting on his fingers. “You hate my clothes. You hate my music. You hate my piercings, you hate my tattoos. You’re about a million times smarter than me, you know how to build fucking buildings, for fuck’s sake. And me? Fucking disaster. Would have been thrown out of my high school if it hadn’t been for my mother. Only got into college thanks to her, then flunked out. You have… I don’t know, culture, and taste, and all that shit, and me, I have... how did Rolling Stones put it again? ‘an impressive vocal range but mediocre guitar skills.’”

Despite himself, Hux smiled. “You’re still sore about that article, then, are you?”

“You bet your ass I’m fucking sore. I swear, I ever find that journalist, I’ll shove my ‘mediocre guitar skills’ so far up his ass he’ll never write another line about anyone ever again,” grumbled Kylo.

“I don’t really hate your clothes, you know,” said Hux after a pause. “Or your piercings, or anything about you, really. I just… I look at you, sometimes, and I think… why would someone like that be interested in someone like me? You should be with someone like you. Someone… who shines, the way you do. An actor, or a model, or...”

“Hux. Hux, listen,” said Kylo, his tone very earnest all of a sudden. “You shine. I’ve never met anyone who shone more than you. No one else comes close. I just wish I could make you believe it…” He paused. “Listen. Okay, let’s say I could get anyone. Which certainly isn’t true. But let’s say it is. Why would I be here right now, if you weren’t the only one I want?”

“That’s stupid. It could just be poor judgment on your part. Sunk-cost fallacy. Some misguided sense of obligation. Some- uhnf!” Suddenly, Kylo’s mouth was on his, and he couldn’t talk anymore.

“Misguided sense of obligation. You fucking moron,” Kylo whispered affectionately. “I’ll show you my misguided sense of obligation…” One of Kylo’s hands was already skilfully at work undoing the buttons of Hux’s shirt. With the other, he grabbed Hux’s right hand and pressed it to his crotch. “See? Is that enough of a sense of obligation for you?” he asked, pressing his growing erection against the palm of Hux’s hand.

“Don’t be crude,” said Hux, but it was hard to keep a smile from rising to his lips as he felt the familiar shape of Kylo’s cock thickening under his fingers.

“I’m not being crude, I’m being very romantic. I’m just trying to subtly suggest that I very much want to fuck you right now, if that’s okay with you,” grinned Kylo.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call that subtle or romantic, but…”

“Any objections?” interrupted Kylo.

“Uh.” Hux was trying to think, but now Kylo’s hand was playing with his nipples and it was becoming difficult to formulate conscious thoughts. “Not… not on Techie’s sofa?” he said, weakly.

“Fair enough. I need a shower, anyway. Spent my entire days in cars and planes because of you. Bathroom?”

“We could go back to my place?”

“No. Much too far. Want you now,” growled Kylo. “Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time we fuck in there, would it?”

Hux had, of course, also designed this bathroom.

He had always intended it to be his, though officially it was a guest bathroom. It went with the spare bedroom he’d also put in, mostly so he could stay over whenever he wanted, but also in case Techie ever wanted to have guests. Although to be honest, he didn’t really expect Techie to have guests beyond him, and as a result he’d made it exactly to his own tastes.

When he’d designed Techie’s bathroom, he’d put in a large, deep bath. And now Techie would spend hours in, surrounded by an alarming amount of coloured sponges and plastic animals of all kinds.

But Hux’s bathroom had a large, Italian-style shower, curbless with glass doors, definitely large enough for two people, and with a bench-like ledge for sitting.

Or, sometimes, just convenient to rest one foot on to give your boyfriend better access as he enthusiastically fucked your hole with his tongue while warm water poured from the rain shower-head down your face, stopping you from seeing anything, saying anything, not that there was a lot you could say while the cleverest tongue in the world was curling deliciously inside you in a way that made stars appear behind your closed eyelids.

Kylo stopped, resting his forehead lightly on Hux’s thigh for a second. “Fuck. I could do that all day.”

“Then why did you stop?” asked Hux between clenched teeth.

Kylo nipped lightly at Hux’s skin, high on his thigh, eliciting a small yelp. “Behave. Or I’ll make you talk about how you missed me again.”

“You’re enjoying my insecurities way too much,” grumbled Hux, letting Kylo guide him with his large hands until his back was pressed against the back wall of the shower.

“I love everything about you,” said Kylo, pressing a burning kiss at the base of Hux’s straining erection. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t love your insecurities as well. They’re part of you.”

“That… is the stupidest thing… you’ve ever said,” groaned Hux as Kylo made his way up, kiss after kiss, along the line of Hux’s cock.

“I don’t think you should talk, with what you just did.” Kylo’s tongue snaked around the head of Hux’s cock, and Hux hissed. “That was a lot more stupid than what I’ve just said.”

“Do we really have to keep talking about it?”

Kylo straightened up from his crouching position, and once again, as he was almost every time, Hux was left breathless by the sheer size of him, the wide, powerful shoulders, his well defined chest, covered in dozens of intricate tattoos of every possible kind, which should have been an absolute mess yet somehow worked, all the different designs coming together in something that was undeniably Kylo.

Then Kylo wrapped his left hand around the girth of Hux’s cock, stroking him slowly, his fingers, callused from playing guitar, rough and deliciously scratchy against Hux’s skin, and almost immediately it became too good. Too much.

“Kylo. Kylo, stop,” said Hux, biting his lip. “You’re going to make me come.”

Kylo smiled, annoyingly cocky. “Really? That fast? You’re sensitive, today.”

“What do you mean, sensitive? It’s not my fault if you decided to spend ten minutes eating me out, is it-... oh, fuck, yes, that’s nice.”

“Yeah? You want to come like that, all over my hand?” growled Kylo. “You want me to make you come, until you’re all helpless and trembling, and then I’ll just flip you over and spread your legs and fuck you until you can’t stand anymore, is that what you want?”

“God… Yes, Kylo, please… please,” panted Hux, not even caring he was reduced to begging. “Please…”

With a half-strangled growl, Kylo wrapped an arm around Hux, pressing him against him as water flowed over their naked shapes, his hand tight against Hux’s length, moving faster and faster, pleasure building upon itself, until Hux cried out against Kylo’s shoulder and came, splattering Kylo’s stomach and thigh in white.

Gasping for air, Hux let his head fall back, surveying Kylo between lowered eyelashes, still shivering as Kylo’s hand moved gently, soothingly, against his spent cock.

“Nice?” asked Kylo with a little grin.

“Yes. Yes, very nice. Very…” Suddenly, Hux felt like he had to speak, like he couldn’t hold back anymore. “You know, Kylo…”


“I love you.”

Kylo looked startled for a second. “What?” he repeated.

“I love you. I love you so much,” he heard himself say, as though drunk on something. “I love the way you look, I love who you are, everything. I love your tattoos, and I love your piercings, and all of it. I even love your music, if you want to know the truth.”

Kylo pulled back and looked at Hux with a quizzical expression. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked.

Hux nodded. “Yes. I just… I don’t know why I never tell you. I should tell you more often.”

“Perhaps I should just give you handjobs more often…” Kylo chuckled. “I like the effect it has on you.”

“Shut up, you ass. I’m being serious.”

“I know. So am I. I like you being so unguarded. It’s rare. But you know what? I also like it when we fight. I don’t know, it’s kind of our thing. It’s sexy.”

“And this isn’t. I see. Well,” said Hux, his tone growing more and more acerbic, “thank you for proving to me that my fears are perfectly justified and you actually hate it when I’m being honest with you!”

“Aaaaaand he’s back!” grinned Kylo. “Good. I was worried I’d broken you or something. But no, you idiot,” he said, his tone sober now. “I like you like that too. It’s just… a lot to take in, all at once. This is a lot of new information to process. You… like my music?”

“Well. Sometimes. When I’m in the mood. Maybe I’ll listen to one song or two, on occasion… Although, actually, scratch that. Let’s forget I ever said that. You’re going to be insufferable now, aren’t you?”

“Which songs?” said Kylo, sounding utterly delighted. “Hux, please, tell me which songs!”

“Never. You’d be way too smug. I’ll never tell. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you find some way of making me talk?” breathed Hux, pressing himself against Kylo and feeling his half-soft cock harden in response.

“Oh. How interesting. Yes, Mr Hux, I do have ways of making you talk,” said Kylo with a hint of villainous German accent.

“No role play! Especially not something that cheesy.”

“You started it. But okay. Fine.” Kylo reached out to turn off the water. “Which one’s the lube, again?”

“Bottom shelf. Hang on, no, that’s the conditioner. Someone’s moved my stuff.” Hux frowned.

“Don’t care,” said Kylo, having located the right bottle. He coated his fingers generously in lube before reaching down to thrust them unceremoniously into Hux’s hole, still open and relaxed from before.

“Hngh, Kylo… fuck,” moaned Hux as Kylo scissored his fingers roughly inside Hux. “Hang on, though,” he said, suddenly back to his usual tone. “Why did my stuff move? do you think Techie was tidying…- ghn!”

Kylo had added a third finger, and was now twisting them in a corkscrew motion. “Please don’t talk about tidying up when I’m about to fuck you, Hux,” he breathed heavily. “Turn around.”

“Yes, but why would… Ah, fuck,” swore Hux again as Kylo entered him in one long thrust, a sweet burn that felt, every single time, as though Kylo was splitting him in two. No matter how many times they did that, there was no getting used to Kylo’s spectacular girth.

Kylo kissed the back of Hux’s neck. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” whispered Hux, bracing himself against the wall.

Then Kylo started moving and the world faded to white. So soon after coming, there was little chance of Hux even getting hard again, not at his age, but it didn’t make any of this any less overwhelming. Any less pleasurable. In a way, it was better, because it was easier to concentrate on the sensations, on how large and powerful Kylo felt behind him, on the grip of his massive hands on Hux’s hips, on the push and pull of Kylo inside him, filling him, stretching him. On the joy of hearing Kylo’s breathing speed up, feeling his movements grow more urgent. On Kylo’s satisfied groan as Hux arched his back to let Kylo in deeper, as far as he could go. Then the tell-tale swell of his cock inside, the almost pained moan Kylo gave out when he came, the feeling of his cock pulsing within Hux, the hot slickness of his come, the warmth of his panting breath just under Hux’s ear.

“I knew I was right to get on that plane,” rumbled Kylo, sounding terribly pleased.

“It’s a little expensive, you don’t think?” said Hux, a little out of breath, looking back over his shoulder at Kylo. “Ten grand for a fuck…”

“Worth it. Worth every cent. Although next time… call, you idiot.”

“Yes. I know. Next time I’ll…” Hux stopped. Something had caught his eye outside the shower. On the beautiful teak shelf he’d placed above the beautiful free standing marble basin he’d picked specially because of its perfect half-globe shape.

Something spectacularly ugly and out of place.

“Kylo?” he asked, Kylo’s arms still around him, his large shape still holding him in place. “Why is there the ugliest pair of glasses known to man inside my bathroom?”