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The lights in the room start to brighten, simulating shy morning light and announcing the beginning of the day cycle. Kylo blinks a few times before opening his eyes fully to see Hux’s sleep-mussed hair sticking every which way right in front of him. He smiles at the view and dips forward to rub his nose against the back of Hux’s head, inhaling the delicious smell of him.
“Good morning,” he murmurs as Hux begins to stir in his arms.
“Morning,” Hux mumbles half-intelligibly, a big yawn swallowing half of the word. It sounds magnificent.
“Did you sleep well?” Kylo asks. Hux doesn’t sleep much when he’s alone, and Kylo’s been gone for almost a week. If Kylo knows anything about Hux, the General must have overworked himself almost to the point of medbay during this time.
Hux hums in response, something vaguely affirmative and just purr-like enough for Kylo to believe it. “Did you dream?” Hux asks, fingers finding Kylo’s and playing with them.
Hux likes hearing about Kylo’s dreams. Kylo isn’t always sure himself which ones are just dreams and which are Force visions, but Hux takes them all as tongue-in-cheek prophecies, something he doesn’t trust entirely but likes to pretend he does. It gives him a sense of power over the future, over time itself. A fantasy that he doesn’t allow to go to his head, and yet indulges, nevertheless. Like Kylo’s his pet oracle and destiny is his little bitch.
Kylo doesn’t protest.
“I did,” he tells Hux. “I was old. Wrinkled. White-haired.” It sounds so unlikely when he says it out loud, not with the kind of life he leads, burning bright and fast like a falling star. And yet there is something soothing about it, the farthest glimpse into his future that he’s seen yet. “You were there with me.”
“Ah.” Hux drags his nails along Kylo’s forearm. “How romantic.” He chuckles lightly, seemingly pleased with the image of the two of them, wrinkled and white-haired together.
Kylo doesn’t find it off-putting, either, even if he’s never before given any thought to them growing old with each other. Now, it’s all he can think about.
Hux’s delicate skin with age-spots scattered among the freckles. His soft hair, grown out longer, falling into his eyes, which are still bright and green, shining in their halos of wrinkles. His voice, mellower with the years, telling stories of the times long gone.
Kylo’s thoughts go in a different direction when Hux shifts in his arms, brushing the swell of his ass against Kylo’s half-hard cock. Kylo’s hands skim down Hux’s belly, flitting over Hux’s own erection straining against his black regulation briefs.
As tempting as old Hux is, the young Hux presently in Kylo’s arms is irresistible.
“If you could dream about anything at all,” Hux begins, tugging Kylo’s hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the tip of Kylo’s index finger, “what would you dream about?”
“You,” Kylo replies immediately. He doesn’t even need to think about it.
Hux huffs a small laugh, nipping lightly at Kylo’s fingertips. “Don’t you have enough of me when you’re awake?”
“Never enough,” Kylo almost growls, pressing the hand not occupied by Hux to the bulge in Hux’s briefs.
“Greedy,” Hux chides, sounding all too pleased. He rolls his hips, rubbing his ass against Kylo’s now fully hard cock. It sends sparks along Kylo’s spine.
He is greedy, that’s the truth of it. Maybe that’s what made his family fear and reject him, although it doesn’t matter. It’s what made Snoke take him on as an apprentice, the incessant burning of his desire for more. It’s what makes the universe spin around him, bending to his will. It’s what makes Hux turn around in his arms, pupils blown wide, mirroring the avarice that lurks behind Kylo’s own eyes.
Given the chance, they would devour each other. It’s a chance they both take.
Kylo presses his lips to Hux’s, his hands moving slowly down Hux’s sides, thumbs hooking under the waistband of Hux’s briefs. He tugs, and Hux lifts his hips, letting Kylo undress him completely. Kylo is still in his tank top and underwear, the fabric feeling progressively more uncomfortable against his heating skin.
“What would I do?” Hux asks, in between kisses. “In your wildest dreams.” There’s a challenge in his voice, and Kylo accepts it gladly.
“You would kiss me,” Kylo says, doing just that. “First,” he adds, lest Hux decides kissing is the limit of Kylo’s fantasy. He draws slightly backward, just enough to see fire light up in Hux’s eyes.
“And after that?” Hux prompts, putting his hands under Kylo’s tank top and pushing it up and over Kylo’s head until it’s fully out of the way.
“Mmm,” Kylo hums, sifting through the myriad images flooding his mind at Hux’s prodding. He wants to choose something good. Something beautiful.
Hux presses his erection against Kylo’s, and the thin barrier of cloth between them feels unbearable. With a groan, Kylo rolls onto his back to pull his boxers off.
“And after that,” he says, gathering Hux back into his arms, “you would kiss me again.” He puts a hand on Hux’s cheek. “But not on the lips,” he elaborates with a mischievous smirk.
Hux mirrors the smirk. “Affirmative,” he chimes, sliding down the bed toward Kylo’s swollen cock. He drags his fingers along the length of it, teasing, then puts his lips, pressed together, to the very tip, the lightest kiss that makes Kylo groan with impatience.
“You would feel so good,” Kylo continues, eyes fluttering shut as Hux puts him in his mouth, his tongue circling around the head of Kylo’s cock. “So good, Hux.”
Hux hums at the sound of his name, a pleased sound, and a pleasant vibration against Kylo’s overheated skin. Kylo’s hands slide down, his fingers twisting in Hux’s hair and tugging ever so lightly. Hux moans at that, his head bobbing up and down on Kylo’s cock with more vigor, making Kylo feel like he’s about to float away from his own body.
It’s a magical feeling straight from a dream.
Hux replaces his mouth with the firm grasp of his hand, stroking Kylo languidly as he presses his cheek to Kylo’s thigh. “And what next?” he asks, squeezing the head of Kylo’s cock in his palm.
Kylo looks down at him, takes in the red swollen lips and the tousled red hair, and he almost comes just from the sight of it.
“Next,” he says, reaching down and tugging Hux towards him, kissing him deep and tender, “you would straddle me.” He brings his hands to Hux’s hips, arranging them over himself just right. A little flick of the Force, and the bottle of lubricant Hux keeps in his bedside table floats into Kylo’s hand. “And you would open for me.”
Hux shudders over Kylo, a smile roaming around his face. “Affirmative,” he whispers, taking the lubricant from Kylo and setting to work on himself.
Kylo watches, mesmerized, his hands wandering across Hux’s skin, the plain of his chest, the flat valley of his stomach, the bony shoulders, dusted with the most delicious freckles. Kylo wants to press a kiss to every single one of them, but it’ll have to wait. He’ll have time for that later. He’ll have all the time in the world.
“I’m ready,” Hux says, leaning down to brush his lips against Kylo’s before straightening back up and lining himself up against Kylo’s cock. “What would I do now?” He tries to keep his voice even, but he’s breathing hard, and Kylo doesn’t mind.
He doesn’t mind at all.
“Let me show you,” Kylo says, his hands settling on Hux’s hips and guiding him down onto Kylo’s cock.
The gasp he gets in response is so much better than any dream could possibly be.
They move together slowly, relishing the comfort of each other’s bodies, joined together like that, as if they’re one and the same. Something pulls on Kylo’s heart, and, miraculously, it doesn’t hurt.
There is the pull to the light and there is the pull to the dark. There also is, Kylo discovered, the pull toward balance.
Balance. Hux. Same difference, as far as Kylo’s concerned.
The Jedi renounce attachments; the Sith exploit them. Kylo is neither. Here, with Hux, he has finally learned the truth, something not even Snoke could teach him.
Attachments are about balance. About filling each other’s gaps and smoothing each other’s edges until both of you are whole again. About collecting all the missing pieces and putting them back where they belong.
His attachment to Hux is his greatest strength, and he’s not letting go.
He comes deep inside Hux, in the white shock of clarity that no meditation could ever bring him. Hux follows suit, spilling himself over Kylo’s chest and collapsing on top of him, their sweat mingling into the only mess Hux tolerates in his otherwise perfectly ordered life.
“This,” he pants, a hint of amusement lacing his voice, “this was your wildest dream?”
“You,” Kylo repeats simply, as if it explains everything. In a way, it does. “Yes.”
He embraces Hux tightly, peppering his face with kisses, and in that moment, he lacks nothing.
Hux’s pull on Kylo is like a tide, threatening to pull him under if he isn’t careful. Kylo prefers to think that the same is true for Hux, that they are both floating in the deep blue sea, keeping each other just barely above water.
There are many variables involved in their fates, but of one thing Kylo is sure: if he doesn’t drown, he would very much like to grow old together with Hux.