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The sun is already high in the sky, beating down on him through his thick competition jacket despite it still being before noon. Falcon is tied up to the side of the horse trailer, her eyes half closed enjoying the warmth on her back most likely, looking less of a Grand Prix level Show Jumper and more a quiet trekking pony. Kylo can’t help himself from winding his fingers around the plaits in her mane, the softness soothing the thrill of anxiety and nerves in his chest.
Kylo sits down on his grooming box, pulling his phone from his back pocket and idly checking for text messages, emails, anything. There are none. Not that he really expects there to be – he’s blocked both of his parent’s numbers and doesn’t exactly have any friends. Except for maybe Rey because she doesn’t hate him at least. He’d expected something from Snoke, the dread of his reprimand contained within the screen had weighed heavy in his gut. But Snoke’s contact is blank, which is almost worse. The silence sends a thrill of fear through him as he wonders if he’s in more trouble than he thought.
The little thread of terror at Snoke’s lack of response persists, threatening to unravel the calm that he needs to concerntrate. He needs to find a distraction somehow but Kylo learned long ago, at his first novice event, that most people in the Show Jumping world aren’t too friendly, so there’s no chance in joining someone else for conversation or to help out. They’re not outwardly hostile towards him but he always gets the feeling that they are trying not to talk to him. All except for one. He leans back, closing his eyes and lets himself drift inside of his thoughts. He tunes out the sounds around him, breathes out in one long breath and centres himself.
The crop smacks him squarely across his cheek startling him out of his meditation. He reels backwards, his hand automatically spreading protectively across his face where the skin is already stinging. The grass is cool against his back as he collapses onto the grass, moisture already beginning to seep into the material of his competition jacket.
‘What the fuck?’ he spits, chest heaving. He gently prods at the wound, high on his cheekbone and clenches his teeth. A shadow moves above him and he cracks his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight.
‘The better question is, what are you doing here?’ Hux is standing over him, his polished riding boots either side of Kylo’s head and his arms crossed over his chest. The sound of someone talking over a loudspeaker breaks the moment's silence between them but it seems so far away, so distant to Kylo. Like another world. Seeing Hux in his competition clothing is always enough to take Kylo’s breath away – the fitted jacket, slim breeches that leave nothing to the imagination and the tall boots that fit the slight curve of his calves. As much as Kylo hates to even think it, he knows that Hux looks as if he was born to wear these clothes, the way that they a accentuate his tall and slim frame where Kylo feels too big and awkward.
‘Winning,’ Kylo exhales, closing his eyes and laying back on the grass. It’s such an obvious answer, he wonders why Hux even bothers to ask. It’s easy enough to centre himself again despite his anger and Hux’s presence. The ground is cool here, under the shade of the tree, the noise of the competition is far away – a shapeless bubble of sound on the outside of his consciousness. It’s almost peaceful except…
‘You’re here? To win?’ Hux’s voice cuts through Kylos meditation like a carefully sharpened blade, ‘After I explicitly told you not to, after Snoke told you not to. When will you get past your childish notions, you’re part of a team now and sometimes that means you don’t always get what you want.’ Kylo opens his eyes and smirks, Hux’s face now matches his infamous red competition jacket and his lips are pulled back into a snarl. Seeing Hux like this is always a treat. Not only is it fun to rile him up, but Kylo knows this is the real Hux. As much as he tries to project a cool, detached persona he has the same temper as Kylo – the same anger, the need to prove himself.
Hux’s words wash over Kylo without his understanding, Hux has always been tactical where Kylo relies on brute force and determination alone. Not trying, not dominating in everything is something he can’t understand. He can never agree to Snoke’s grand plan, that while he is Snoke’s favoured apprentice that First Order equestrian would dominate on all fronts rather than behind a single person to gain more sponsors.
‘I don’t care what you think, or what,’ he swallows, a tiny sliver sliding down his spine, ‘Snoke thinks. I will be ranked number one, I won’t let anyone beat me.’ Despite himself, he does feel a tiny thread of fear at the thought of betraying Snoke, at disobeying a direct order from him. Kylo Ren answers to nobody isn’t afraid of anyone (especially not Hux) but there’s something about Snoke. His frail body seems at odds with the subtle feeling of strength, of power that is thick in the air whenever he’s near to Snoke.
‘This one is mine, you’ve had your turn,’ in one swift move Hux crouches beside him, pulling him up by the lapels of his jacket, ‘It doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, I’m going to win. I will crush you, do you hear me?’ His eyes are wild, boring into Kylo’s with a burning intensity.
‘He’s lost it,’ Kylo thinks, his heart pounding in his chest. It doesn’t scare him, he realises, and instead, it draws him in. Hux’s neck is pale, his pulse beating visibly below the skin and Kylo can’t seem to take his eyes away. He wants to suck at the skin, see what Hux tastes like.
This is what he wants, he realises, why he’d felt so compelled to disobey Snoke’s orders further than his own desire for dominance. The feeling of his rivalry with Hux, even when they should be allies, drives him to be better, faster and more accurate. The same feeling that has him riding more accurately, pushing Falcon for more with the clock always in the back of his mind. But it’s more than that. He wants this Hux, fiery and bright and full of hatred. It twists something in Kylo’s gut, it’s not normal to want someone in this way like he’s not sure if he wants to strangle him or kiss him. His eyes drift down to Hux’s lips, chapped and bitten. Entirely unappealing and yet he finds himself leaning closer, unable to look away from Hux’s lips.
‘What are you.... ?’ He hears Hux say. ‘Oh!’ He presses his lips against Hux’s, screwing his eyes tightly closed and then freezes. Oh, shit, Kylo thinks, what do I do? The movies had made it look so easy as if a spark would pass between them and he would just know what to do. He hears Hux huff, feels the little exhale of breath across his lips and his own cheeks burning red.
He is only allowed to wallow in his embarrassment for a few moments, before Hux tightens his hold on Kylo’s lapels and gently pulling Kylo closer. He follows, can’t resist pressing closer to Hux, as Hux’s lips move against his own. Hux’s mouth tastes like toothpaste, clean and ordered just like Hux himself and its driving Kylo crazy.
‘You learn to learn how to kiss,’ Hux rocks back onto his heels, boots squeaking, ‘just like you need to learn how to obey orders. I bet that was your first kiss or something.’ He laughs high pitched and awkward.
‘So what?’ He can’t stop himself from speaking, something about the kiss with Hux of all people has made him feel soft and vulnerable. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if it was with you, right?’ He can’t quite keep the tremble of uncertainty out of his voice. Hux’s eyes widen
‘All competitors for the 1.60m class please come to the warm-up ring,’ the voiceover cuts through the awkward silence that has settled between them. Kylo jumps back as if he’s been burnt, sliding across the grass with the grim knowledge that his pristine white breeches are probably covered in grass stains now. The
‘See you around,’ Hux says not meeting his eyes. But his lips curve slightly at the corners into a half smile, so Kylo is pretty sure he hasn’t ruined this strange thing between them. That maybe later there’ll be more, but first, he gets to his feet and dusts off his breeches. He has to win. Falcon whinnies softly at him, butting her head against his side and he smiles.