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Pull me in, Put me out

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“You need a fucking hobby,” Rey sniped from the other side of the break room’s table.

It took every ounce of self-control Ben had not to choke on his bagel. God, if only you knew, sweet cousin, he thought somewhat hysterically.

“Oh?” He sipped at his coffee, hoping the look on his face didn’t belie his after-hours pursuits. Not that it would. But as long as Ben was committing his time to it, paranoia weighed down on his shoulders at anything that scraped close to the surface of his ‘hobby’.

“Yeah. All I’ve ever seen you do is work. I know Leia is putting a lot of pressure on you to get the promotion without her help, but you know she’d pull some strings if she thought you weren’t gonna get it,” Rey shrugged. “I hear that Mitaka likes to go golfing on weekends.”

“I’m twenty-five,” Ben said flatly, “not fifty-five.”

“So is Mitaka.”

Ben pulled a face at her, shaking his head dismissively. He spared a furtive glance over his shoulder, checking that no one was hanging around him as he pulled out his phone.

This phone, along with his laptop and horrendously expensive camera were his lifeline in a world that he no longer cared about. Overflowing with pictures, information and tracking coordinates for one Brendall Hux II, the man Ben Solo had fallen helplessly in love with after he’d caught sight of him sitting alone at a bar just over five months ago. He’d been far too anxious to make an attempt at picking the haughty looking redhead up, and really he’d only meant to kill some time when he followed him out of the bar. But when he had abused the kind of access his job gave him to track the taxi back to Hux’s house so he could feed his curiosity further things spiralled out of control.

He remembered that first night so clearly, how he had hovered just out of sight in the extensive back garden of Hux’s ornate countryside house and his breath caught in his throat when he realised he’d had a perfect view of the bedroom window. The light had switched on, and even though jealously burned hot and angry in his chest at the sight of another man in the room with the redhead, there was nothing he could do but jack himself off roughly at the sight of Hux blowing the guy into next week, imagining it was his cock those beautiful lips were pulled tight around. He’d fled the scene almost immediately after he realised the extremity of the situation.

It didn’t even take him three days before he was back in the shadows of the sycamore tree, fisting himself desperately as he watched Hux get undressed for bed.

From that point onwards, he knew Hux was the only man for him. Even if Hux didn’t know he existed, just having all the material he had on the man was enough to sate him. Brendall Hux II: thirty-two years old. Retired. Previous work had been classified, but Ben was good at digging deep and was thrilled to find Hux’s line of work had been… violent. And apparently highly classified. Being a hired hit for government officials paid well enough to land him in a large country house, where he lived alone except for a ginger maine coon called Millicent, and was set for life. For several lives actually if his bank statements were anything to go by. Ben felt the violence in their past sing in unison, and he held onto that connection desperately, knowing it brought them closer together.

“…So clearly whatever is on your phone is much more important than estimates on our earnings for next quarter so I’m just gonna leave you alone to your weird porn.” Ben’s head snapped up to see Rey dumping her dishes in the sink and moving back into the office. He didn’t bother trying to call out an apology to her, she was easy to get along with that way.

Slipping his phone into his pocket with a sigh, he threw the rest of his lunch in the bin and wandered back to his desk without have any particular intentions of working for the rest of the day.




It was a warm night when Ben parked his car up against the corner of Hux’s street. His cheeks were flushed with anticipation before he’d even made it to his usual spot under the thick, sprawling branches of the sycamore tree. He leaned against the bulk of the trunk casually, like he belonged there.

I do belong here, Ben assured himself as he plucked the lens cap from his camera.

Hux was in the kitchen, illuminated by the bright, sterile fluorescents that made his pale skin stand out stark and beautiful against the deep forest green of his jumper. Bringing the viewfinder to his eye, Ben began his routine for the evening. Tonight Hux was cooking, and Ben couldn’t help but use the extraordinary lens on his camera to snap what could have been completely innocent pictures on slender hands holding an array of kitchen knives but they lost all purity when Ren thought about what he’d be using them for later.

Eventually, Ben found himself growing bored of having to watch Hux through the camera and shut it off, slinging the strap around himself as he pulled a small jotter out of his back pocket. He quickly scrawled down the date and time before he began noting down all the ingredients he could remember Hux using, being as thorough as possible. He wrote down what Hux was wearing, even though he had plenty of pictures of that already.

After he’d finished cooking, Hux arranged his meal beautifully and poured himself a generous measure of red wine. Ben quickly fumbled with his camera, zooming in on the plate to see what the food looked like after being so meticulously arranged on the plate. Lamb – no, beef. Rare. New potatoes. Asparagus. Wilted spinach.

Ben would probably end up cooking it for himself tomorrow, desperate for anything that strengthened their inevitable connection.

Leaning against the tree, Ben lowed his camera and watched Hux eat his dinner with a small smile playing upon his lips. He never felt truly relaxed until he was here, with him, even though this was the last place he should be letting his guard down.

Hux washed up after finishing his dinner, then moved to one of the front rooms to presumably read a book like he did in his evenings. Patient, Ben sorted through tonight’s photographs, scrapping the ones which were too out of focus. He was about half way through when the bedroom light flicked on and Hux began pulling his clothes off. Even if the act was completely non-sexual, a flush hit Ben’s cheeks and he felt lust coil low in his belly.

Then something changed in the way Hux was moving, a smile teased at the corner of his lips and Ben so desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head. Then Ren realised what was happening and he couldn’t believe his luck that it was happening so close to the window. He edged behind the tree a little more, eyes glued to the way Hux started palming at his cock through his boxer briefs. Ben lifted his camera up with no preamble and hit record, trying to hold it steady as his fingers tore helplessly at his button fly.

There was such a structured way in how Hux touched himself. He’d strip, carelessly discarding his clothes on the floor, toeing off his socks and leaning casually against the chest of drawers which sat next to the window. Hux liked to grip himself just shy of too tight, if his expression was anything to go by and he liked to exert a measure of control over himself. Sometimes he’d stop and take a few steadying breaths before continuing, others he’d grip the bottom of his shaft mercilessly as he cried out to no one in particular for release.

Ben licked his lips, doing his best to fuck up into his hand at the same pace as Hux. Of course Ben had seen it before, but today was different somehow. Watching Hux through the zoomed in image on his camera screen, Ren frowned to see his lips were moving around more than just moans. They were making the shape of a name. Ben’s stomach dropped. Who was Hux thinking about. Nothing like a permanent lover had come up in Ben’s materials.

He instantly let go of himself in revulsion, betrayal pumping adrenaline through his veins giving way to the uncontrollable anger that sometimes took a hold of him and roared to life in his chest.

Trying not to give away his position by screaming his frustrations, or hurling his camera across Hux’s back garden, Ben slowly counted back from ten in the way Phasma always said was supposed to help.

Ten, Nine, Eight

Ben switched off his camera.

Seven, Six, Five

Slipped it back into its bag.

Four, Three, Two

He let out a shaky breath.


I can’t just watch from afar anymore.




When Ben got home, it was just after ten. He had stopped off at the corner shop to pick up a bottle of whiskey and a four pack. Dumping his bag next to the door, he stumbled into the kitchen and poured himself a shot, knocking it back with a shudder before he just decided to forgo the glass and picked up the bottle.

Ben needed to be drunk for this. His mind was racing as he flipped open his laptop, pulling up the password protected files on Hux. There was nothing, nothing that could even imply he had started seeing someone else to think about like that.

Taking a swig from the bottle, Ben tried to rationalise the whole situation in his mind: maybe there was nothing to it all in particular. In all fairness, he had just made an assumption but that assumption could be wrong.

I have no rationality about him, though, Ben said to himself honestly.

Ben realised it was time he took a step back and finally acknowledged how insane he was acting. He’d never been like this. Ever. Sure, he’d had some anger issues when he was a teenager and was admittedly very easy to rile up when he was drunk but he’d never considered stalking somebody before Hux came along.

It could be so, so easy to flip the blame around onto him. To claim he was too beautiful, and dark, and interesting to not want to be around, that he should take more liberties for his own safety and Ben was just doing what any person with a pair of eyes in their head could rationally do. But he couldn’t do that, because if there was one thing he’d learned from his family no matter how dysfunctional it was, it was the importance of taking responsibility for his actions.

Rubbing a tired hand over his face before taking another dejected swig of grouse, Ben wracked his brains for something that could help him to just stop it. He loved Hux, he really did, but he couldn’t let this monster of an obsession take over his life.

I need to give myself a parting gift, Ben told himself logically, something to remember this as a very real part of my life, but so I can let it become the past.

Trying to ignore the anxiety and self-hate curling low in his gut, Ben grabbed his coat and shoved his feet into a pair of boots before he could talk himself out of his own stupid, stupid plan.


All of the lights were off when Ben arrived.

A strange calm descended over him as he lifted the fake rock just under the decking of Hux’s back door and found the key was missing. He didn’t really want to have to pick the lock – it was inconvenient and there was a risk of being heard.

As he looked up, trying to think of another way to get in, he realised the door was ajar. It was open.

Biting his lip to hide his smile – small victories can’t win you a war, idiot – he pushed the kitchen door open and willed himself not to stop and root around for stuff to knick off with. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Ben strode through the kitchen and straight to the atrium, where a set of wide stairs led up to the second floor.

For an old house, the stairs didn’t creak all that much as Ben slowly crept up them.  The plush, dark green stair rug that covered the floorboards softened the blow of each footfall until he made it to the top where it was pinned down by the top step and all that was left between him and Hux was seven metres of dark wood flooring and a door.

Ben was glad he’d worn his old hiking boots; the thick rubber soles were quiet and the only thing that he considered a dead giveaway to his presence was the heavy push of air through his nose which might as well have been gunshots in the night as far as Ben’s anxiety was concerned.

Heart pounding in his chest, Ben twisted the doorknob, took a deep breath and stepped into the room.


The shriek that left Ben’s mouth was almost inhuman.

“Jesus Christ what the fucking – oh shit,” Ben stopped clutching at his chest where it felt like his heart was trying to force its way out between his ribs and looked up, squinting through the dark.

In the corner of Hux’s bedroom, using a silver zippo to light up a liquorice rollie, was the man of the hour himself. He was still fully dressed, legs crossed knee-to-ankle, hair still parted perfectly. A wry smile twisted his thin lips as he appraised Ben from head to toe.

Ben felt like a deer in the headlights, and was stood perfectly still as he waited for Hux to say something. It felt like an eternity before he did.

“Good evening, Ben.” He said smoothly as he stood up slowly and rested his weight on one leg.

“Uh – what?” Ben gaped at him. “I’m sorry I’m – I’m confused… how do you know my name?”

Hux barked out a laugh, smoke obscuring his face momentarily. “Oh, now isn’t the time to play coy. Did you honestly think I didn’t know you’ve been skulking around in my garden for the past few months?” Hux murmured, leaning against the wall, arms folded. His cigarette was still resting innocuously in between his lips, Ben noted he hadn’t made a move to take another drag from it yet and the smoke hung in the hair between them, cloying and delicious.

“I was not aware… no,” Ben said, averting his gaze from Hux’s steely blue one. “You must understand, when I began – when this became a part of my life, I didn’t know it would go this far.”

“Meaning, you didn’t think you’d be sneaking into my house in the dead of night to attempt to rape me?” Hux said the words candidly, but didn’t seem overly emotional. Ben huffed out a humourless laugh and shook his head. “Well I hate to disappoint you, Ben, but I’m not so easily taken.”

Ben’s eyes widened and his head snapped up to see Hux striding over to him from the other side of the room, taking a long drag as he walked.

This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. Ren was supposed to give himself this last thing, this last indulgence before leaving it all behind him. But now the tables had turned, and Hux had known all along, had been playing with him from the start and even though he had a good two inches on the guy where they were stood almost nose-to-nose he had never felt so small in his entire life.

Hux blew a lungful of smoke into Ben’s face, smirking when he coughed.

“I have to say, your efforts are admirable but I had a very strict idea of how this was going to pan out and if you’re not willing to comply with what I want you can get out of my house right now,” Hux said, leaning around Ben to stub out his tab on the bedside table. “Well?”

“What did you want?” Ben heard himself say. His utter disbelief and feeling of absolute ecstasy that months of observation, careful planning and desperation had paid off so well in his favour left him feeling like he was floating.

“I want you to strip, and then I want you to lie face-down on the bed.”

“Lie face – hang on, I don’t – ” Ben began, but was cut off when the back of Hux’s hand came cracking down on his cheek. He stumbled backwards, shocked and looked up at Hux in confusion, trying to dampen down the humiliation-fuelled arousal that coiled low in his gut at the sneer that was twisting Hux’s lips as he stared him down.

“You don’t what?” He bit out, and Ben opened his mouth to say something but what could he say – ‘I don’t bottom’, ‘I changed my mind’? neither of those were true statements. I just imagined this happening in a completely different way is all. But if this is all he’ll give me, this is all I get.

“Nothing,” Ben mumbled, yanking his shirt over his head and toeing off his shoes and socks, finally shucking down his jeans and briefs before laying down in the centre of Hux’s stupidly large bed.

“I think,” Hux said casually, moving to stand over Ben, “it’s time you learned your place.”

“Yeah? What makes you think I don’t already know it?” Ben threw a coy look over his shoulder before he found his face shoved hard into the pillows. Hux’s wiry strength didn’t relent even as Ben started to jerk under it, fearful for his lack of oxygen.

“Careful, Ben,” Hux’s breath gusted over his ear and Ben went still as the nape of his neck was taken in a tight grip, this one didn’t try and suffocate him but it sent no less adrenaline coursing through his veins. “I wouldn’t suggest playing games with me right now. After all, you know me so well. You know what I’ve done, what I’ve been capable of in the past, what I’m capable of right now.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ben gasped, his back arching when the hand that had threatened his life now trailed excruciatingly gently down his spine.

“Hm. For what exactly?” Hux asked, and Ben knew that question had a much broader meaning than just the situation at hand. And sure, Ben was sorry for being cheeky when the power dynamic was certainly not in his favour but the rest? The rest had no measure of guilt attached to it and Ben felt a smug satisfaction knowing that.

Short nails dug into the muscle of his lower back, pressing deep and unforgiving, yanking him back to the present.

“I asked you a question, Ben.”

“Sorry for answering back,” Ben replied with all the sincerity he could muster.

Hux barked out a laugh at that, voice incredulous as he said, “Christ, you’re not even a bit guilty are you.” It wasn’t a question. “Oh, I bet you loved the shows I put on for you, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Ben gasped as Hux grabbed at his ass, palming firmly.

“Yes, what?” Hux snapped, like he was losing his patience and Ben’s heart jumped into his throat – he didn’t want Hux to be getting fed up.

“Yessir,” he managed as arousal sparked in his veins, Hux continuing to massage his ass in a mockery of comfort. Ben moaned, growing agitated as how slow Hux was taking this.

“I bet you thought you could just waltz in here, plow me into next week,” Hux pushed at Ben’s hip so he was lying on his side, cock half-hard against his stomach before continuing, “with that fucking battering ram you have between your legs and leave. Well I’ve got news for you, Ben. You can’t leave me, and you won’t.” Hux didn’t say these words like a desperate man grasping at straws, he said it like he was inside Ben’s head. It was hot beyond words, if not a little unsettling.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Ben whimpered, choking down a moan as Hux reached out to trail a finger over the smooth skin of his erection.

“It’s quite alright. Obviously I’ve rectified the situation so we don’t need to linger of what could have happened if I wasn’t so well versed in psychopaths,” Hux laughed like he was genuinely pleased and Ben was confused, but contented in Hux’s happiness. A happiness that was attatched to him directly. He wanted to take the sound of that laugh and lock it up in a special part of himself, a secret for no one else.

Hux continued to dust the pads of his fingers over Ben’s weeping cock, cruel in his teasing before taking his hand away completely. Ben was completely overwhelmed, losing control of his grasp on a sensate reality as Hux made him feel like all he was, all he would ever be, was a pool of sensations.

Then he heard the distinctive click of a plastic lid, and groaned when slick fingers pressed against him, smoothing cool lube around in a mockery of gentleness before Hux ruthlessly shoved two of those thin, pale fingers Ben spent his nights plagued by into him to the very last knuckle. It hurt, and Ben cried out, scrambling to find purchase on the sheets and Hux started an unforgiving rhythm.

Scissoring his fingers, Hux was efficient in opening Ben up, expert in pulling out every whimper and demanding in what he took from Ben’s body and when he pushed in a third finger it took all of the willpower Ben had left inside of himself not to come there and then.

Ben didn’t know if it was better or worse that Hux had yet to say a word to him. He needed something to ground him, even if it was an insult – not that Ben would be adverse to that. He found the demeaning way Hux spat out words at him to be humiliatingly arousing.

He started rutting back onto Hux’s fingers which were filling him up so good, sighing at the obscene wet sounds their bodies were making and then Hux clicked his tongue and pulled out. Ben threw a desperate look over his shoulder, frowning and Hux laughed quietly.

“Don’t worry. I figured if you wanted to act like a whore, riding my fingers, I’d give you something to seal the deal so to speak,” Hux said, and Ben strained to look over his own body to where he was rolling on a condom and lining himself up against Ben.

“Oh fuck oh – ” Those were the last words Ben managed to breathe before Hux made a space for himself inside Ben. The stretch was acute, and Hux was using his shallow thrusts to ensure Ben felt every bit of it and the only thing there was left for him to do when Hux’s hips had settled against his ass was whimper pathetically. He felt bared open, and it was embarrassing and arousing all at once.

When Hux took Ben’s hip in a punishing grip, and used his other hand to twist Ben’s arm up between his shoulderblades, he knew this wasn’t going to be an easy fuck but that didn’t make the prospect of it any less inviting, and he sucked in a deep breath as Hux pulled out nearly all the way and it tore out of his throat in a shout when he slammed back in

Ben’s fingers tightened in the bedsheets, back arched as he tried to bounce back on Hux’s rough thrusts. Hux laughed breathlessly, using the opportunity to let go of the arm he had pinned up against Ben’s shoulder blades to grab him by his hips and yank him back ruthlessly as he pounded into him so perfectly.

“So, is this everything you had in mind when you started stalking me?” Hux said, voice strained. It wasn’t a question. He was in Ben’s head, his presence was cloying and addictive like the smoke he’d blown in his face not twenty minutes before.

Fuck, yes – God yes,” Ben gasped wetly, grinding his hips back against Hux’s cock desperately. He reached back, trying to grab at Hux’s ass to pull him closer and cried out in frustration when Hux pinned his hand painfully against his back again.

“You seem to think this is about what you want,” Hux said coldly as he continued to roughly ram his cock into Ben, hitting all the right places inside of him and amplifying that pleasure with the dull ache of Ben’s wrenched arm and the bite of his nails in Ben’s hip.

Hux continued to talk and Jesus Christ, Ben never wanted to hear anyone else’s voice ever again. “From now on, Benjamin, it’s going to be about what I want. I’ve let you play your game for far too long. You got cocky, boy.”

Ben moaned, long and loud, the humiliation of it all stirring the beginnings of his orgasm low in his gut and he bounced back on Hux’s cock harder, knowing Hux wasn’t going to touch his dick the only way he was going to come was if he sought after that heat himself.

“You thought you had a right to me? That you owned me?” Hux let out a breathy laugh, then grunted quietly as slowed his thrusts until they were long and grinding. They were driving Ben insane, dragging along his prostate every time Hux pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, grinding up into the tightness of Ben’s ass.

“Well you thought wrong. I’m the one who owns you, Benjamin.”

“Yes, yes fuck, yes you do – I’m yours I swear!” Ben wailed, his eyes filling with tears as Hux pursued his own pleasure with steady, rolling thrusts which were starting to become less measured and Ben wanted to badly to find release with him but he knew that wasn’t part of the game. Panic surged up in him as Hux unexpectedly pressed deep with a loud groan, he had been on the edge for far too long and didn’t want to be denied it.

Hux pulled out, and Ben could hear the wet sound of him tossing the condom in the bin over his heaving sobs. He was quickly manhandled onto his back and he started up at the dishevelled post-orgasmic stupor of Hux, want spreading like fire within him as he surged upwards and pressed their lips together.

There was no finesse to the kiss, it was all slick tongues and the sharp tug of canines and Ben was near out of his mind when Hux reached in between them and jerked Ben’s cock, rough and fast and he hadn’t even pumped his hand five times before Ben’s come painted his hand.

Panting heavily, Ben fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes because he couldn’t handle the way the room was spinning anymore.

He felt the bed dip as Hux lay next to him, still fully clothed.

“How long?” Ben spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence between them, filled only with their soft pants of pleasure passed.

“What?” Hux turned his head, eyes steady on Ben’s.

“How long have you known that I was – I was stalking you,” Ben asked, voice breaking slightly.

“After the first couple of weeks I suppose, but it was the month mark I got all of your personal information, and started setting up my own decoy accounts for you to follow instead,” Hux said casually.

“You what?”  Ben sat up quickly, ignoring the way his hips ached in protest.

“Well I couldn’t have you snooping around my personal affairs. I left some as they were, but some I couldn’t even let you into. Not that I’d assume you’d betray my trust,” Hux smirked, looking up at him, perfectly relaxed.

“S – so how much of it all is true? The murders? The money? Any of it?” Ben asked franticly, his mind was a mess of disbelief. Hux had betrayed him.

He never had any loyalty to you, you prick, that snide voice in the back of his head informed him and although he was inclined to agree, it didn’t ease the hurt in his chest.

 “That’s what matters to you?” Hux laughed loudly. “Yes. I killed people for money, that is true. Honestly, Benjamin. Although, shouldn’t you be more concerned with the amount of information I have on you?”

“No,” Ben said almost instantly.

“Why?” Hux asked curiously.

“Because… well, because you know me with that. I wanted that for so long.”

Hux hummed thoughtfully, before sitting up so they were shoulder to shoulder. “Pass me my tobacco,” he said, and Ben fumbled around on the bedside table for the battered Amberleaf tin before passing it to him. He watched as Hux expertly rolled himself a tab, again using the liquorice papers.

Slipping out the zippo that must have been in his pocket the entire time, Hux lit the end and breathed deeply.

“You’re not going to leave me now, Ben.” Just like before, it was a statement, not a question.

“How can you be so sure?” Ben pressed, although he did agree with Hux.  

“Even if you did want to, which you don’t, I own you. Your money, your identity, your home. It’s amazing what hackers can do these days,” Hux smiled, closing his eyes as he leaned back on the pillows and took another drag from the cigarette, ignoring the ash that fell on the pillowcase.

Ben knew he should have felt something like fear at that, but all his brain could muster was excitement. Hux owned him. Hux wanted him. That prospect wasn’t scary… it was the most perfect thing he’d ever heard.

Instead of replying immediately, Ben just lay down next to him and rested his head against Hux’s bony shoulder, sighing.

“You don’t need my identity to own me, you’ve had me since the first night I saw you,” Ben said quietly, his words slow and slurred as he felt himself drifting off into sleep.

The last thing he remembered before he fell into unconsciousness was the slight stinging pain of a deep hickey being sucked on his collar bone and the breathy words of an equally tired Hux, “mine.”