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If there was anything remotely positive Hux could say about Ren, it would be that his Life Day gift for his most hardworking co-worker remained consistent and more useful to Hux than anything Ren himself could dream of producing all year.
Every year, after careful consideration and effort put in on Hux’s part to procure a gift for Ren—something useful, of good quality, usually a tool that represented a means of improvement without blatantly highlighting the Supreme Leader’s many shortcomings—Kylo would give him the same item as last year.
Socks.
A single pair of black, mid-shin, knitted socks, of mediocre quality.
No card, no formalities, no theatrics, no wrapping even. Just a simple plain box left on his desk at the beginning of the cycle every Life Day, with two brand new socks stuffed unceremoniously inside.
It was more than Hux could have ever asked of him.
Unfortunately, this year had its fair share of unprecedented failures and setbacks. Starkiller. Crait. The death of Supreme Leader Snoke.
And unfortunately, this Life Day only carried on the miserable motif of dismay that had plagued the rest of Hux’s year.
Hux left his quarters a scant few minutes early to take the short detour to his office on his way to the bridge, where his annual gift would be awaiting him.
He imagined himself, as he did every year, lifting the lid of the plain white packaging to reveal two simple articles of clothing, perhaps mushed to one side from Ren not bothering to carry the box flat. He would then close it up, finish his shift with a particular feeling of warmth sitting in his chest—pride most likely—before heading back to his quarters, with the box tucked under one arm, to celebrate the end of the year with a drink and an early retirement to his bed.
But when he entered his office in the morning, excitement bubbling in his stomach at the thought of his annual gift, he was greeted by a perfectly organized, perfectly clean, room. Not a speck of dust was out of place from the night previous.
No package. No socks. Nothing.
Hux’s brow furrowed lightly as he moved around the side of the desk to pull out the chair.
Perhaps Ren had changed the location of his sole sign of gratitude for Hux’s existence?
However, the chair was mournfully empty, devoid of any trace of a box.
Hux frowned.
There was nothing. Not in his drawers, not even on the floor.
He wouldn’t admit it, but the thought was…sad. Disheartening even.
After all the work he put in every year to find something for the knight, too! This year, a set of newly designed, small, lightweight smoke grenades. Perfect for missions away, when one needed to make a quick getaway and the concern of creating a scene was long past considered, or to cause tactical confusion for a sneak attack. A subtle suggestion that perhaps Ren would benefit from a little more nuance and strategy and a little less brute force. Or maybe a hint to just disappear from Hux’s life altogether.
Hux sighed minutely, pushing the chair back in.
Maybe with the new changes in high command and rankings, Hux was no longer worthy of even the simplest acknowledgement from the Supreme Leader. It wasn’t a stretch to presume that without Snoke constantly watching over him, Ren would simply abandon any sense of decorum. Hux didn’t know if he should have expected better from someone raised alongside those filthy rebels.
Another more plausible, and more discouraging, thought was that perhaps Ren had simply stopped caring.
After all their years together, through each of their successes (mostly Hux’s) and their failures (mostly Ren’s), the only consistency in Hux’s life had been the knight. Hux remembered, as though yesterday, sitting in the tiny rescue vessel beside an incapacitated Kylo as the medics cleaned and patched his wounds, hoping, bizarrely, that Ren would survive so he wouldn't have to face Snoke’s wrath alone.
And despite being less—far less—than easy, the knight had stubbornly stuck around. He always made it through every mission, no matter how tough, always came through when they needed him the most, and always came home, whether Hux liked it or not.
Every time, seeing the force user’s ominous form sweeping from his battered ship in the hangar security feed never failed to comfort a small part of Hux, as if Ren’s presence was enough to reassure him that no matter the challenge, they could always see it through.
Hux would never admit it, but the small sense of begrudging admiration for Ren had grown quietly in the corner of his mind, feeding his pride in his order and its cause. After all, Ren, who had grown up among the rebels, had more conviction than many of the decrepit officers in command, moldering from the bygone era of the Empire.
He was a testament to the order’s cause, and a weapon willing to fight for it, and Hux could think of no greater compliment to his work.
The thought that Ren could simply stop caring after all they had been through…
No. Hux refused to be put off by this development. This was not disappointing. It was…unprofessional. Yes. Unprofessional. That was it. And how could he expect anything less from the illustrious new Supreme Leader?
With an irritated huff, Hux swept briskly out of his office.
He had more important things to do than to marinate in defeat over something as frivolous as a silly little gift from some overly-aggressive, wookie-sized, belligerent, space wizard. After all, some people had to work for this fleet to do anything. Some people had jobs they fulfilled. Some people were more fit for better titles. Some people weren’t petty and pathetic enough to not even grant their most dedicated crew with a single, barest hint of appreciation for an entire year.
Hux was not dispirited. He wasn’t even bothered. In fact, he wouldn’t even think of it, he decided angrily.
His shift began uneventfully, continued uneventfully, and finished uneventfully, marked by short, uneventful breaks, and a quiet, uneventful lunch, where he politely turned down his annual invitation to the First Order’s upper command Life Day celebration.
Hux knew from security footage that such year-end celebrations took a rowdy turn very quickly with the amount of questionably legal booze present in such a small vicinity, but even in spite of his refusal every year, they never failed to at least invite him.
Hux scoffed to himself. He was adamantly thinking about not thinking about Ren and his silly present. What good was a pair of socks anyway? He could buy as many as he pleased wherever he pleased and whenever he pleased, he thought bitterly.
But the thought of his undelivered gift lingered in the back of his mind, prickling unpleasantly at his bruised pride throughout the cycle.
Hux’s night was winding down just as his officers’ nights were starting up.
He passed them amiably in the halls on the way back to his room, already changed into their leisure clothes and headed off to parties or partner’s rooms to celebrate the night.
Under the warm spray of his shower, Hux wondered what all the fuss was about anyway. Wasting time with a boisterous bunch of braggarts and letting down your guard before them, or spending a night sleeping on sweaty sheets beside someone who could easily slide a knife between your ribs.
Toweling off, he chanced a glance out of the bathroom and into his quarters, still and quiet, with a couch big enough to seat three and a bed large enough to fit another, but not a single person to share any of it with.
Every year he repeated the cycle of imagining that at the same time the following year, someone would be sharing the space with him, but as time went on, the likeliness seemed to decline exponentially. As his rank rose, he couldn’t risk involving himself with a subordinate, less people met his expectations, and the target on his back grew larger. By now, it was becoming hard to imagine anyone wanting to be there with him at all.
Starkiller was a consolation to the emptiness of his personal life. He spent his time filling it with nothing but his work that he couldn’t find the time to fill the growing void outside of his job. Hux had poured every ounce of himself into it, and now even that was gone. His life’s work, an entire planet, ripped from his grasp and his heart. And now he was all alone again, this time with a planet sized hole in his soul.
And no one to fill that void with.
What would they even do? Talk? Share a bed? Hold hands?
It all sounded too risky. Letting something slip that could be used against you. Being at your most vulnerable before another.
Hux rubbed his nails over his palms, curled into loose, nervous fists. He couldn’t recall if anyone had ever held his hand before. At least not in any gentle kind of manner.
Brendol’s crushing grip dragging him away to be scolded viciously or throwing him to the floor before a beating was all he could really think of when it came to anyone holding his hand.
It was a waste of time to postulate, he decided, turning back to the sink. There were more pressing things to waste energy concerning himself over than his barren quarters and quiet life.
Things like plans for the future. Things like new additions to the Order’s fleet, or plans for better, stronger weapons.
After all, the Order would hopefully long outlive him, and between the two of them currently, it seemed more likely to have a better, brighter future.
A sharp repetitive beep from his desk announced to Hux a message awaited him.
He spat a mouthful of minty mouthwash into the sink, deposited his toothbrush in his cup, and padded quickly over the carpet to his datapad.
Immediately, Hux discerned “URGENT” in bright red letters, and “KYLO REN” as its sender.
Hux glanced at his clock. It was well into the night cycle, and although tonight he was preparing for bed, at any other night he would be wide awake, pouring over messages and condensing information for the next meeting with High Command.
It seemed that nothing appeared to work out in his favor this year, he thought dismally. The universe couldn’t even grant him a single hour of extra rest.
With a barely suppressed groan, he sunk into his seat and opened the message, his eyes settling on the message’s content.
23:15
on my way, be there
Ren was coming to his quarters.
Either some sort of disaster had occurred, and Ren thought it critical to inform him personally, or—far more likely—he had decided to compile and deposit a fresh assortment of worries onto his General’s shoulders, whether it be through paperwork, threats, or demotion.
Either way, it was too late to change into anything respectable by now. Ren would be here shortly.
Hux looked down at his regulation tank top and underwear, hugging the slight curves of his slender, thoroughly unintimidating, frame.
Typical of Ren to be disorganized and last-minute.
Hux balefully approached his closet. Wearing his coat would do little to hide his state of undress. Instead, he drew a simple black robe on a hanger—which he had certainly not taken from the onboard spa years ago and forgotten to return, thank you very much—and had just finished fastening the tie snugly around his waist when a request to be let in buzzed from his door.
With a resigned sigh, Hux placed the hanger neatly back into the closet and crossed the floor to the entrance, running over a practiced greeting in his head. Best get this over with. Maybe he’d be so lucky as to get six hours of sleep tonight.
He quickly punched in his code and jabbed ENTER. The door slid open with a quiet pneumatic swish.
“Supreme Leader,” he recited blandly. “How kind of y—”
Kylo shouldered past him and stalked unpleasantly into his quarters with all the grace and finesse of a wild bantha.
Hux felt the muscle under his right eye threaten a twitch.
He should have expected as much.
With an exhaustive effort, he jabbed the door shut button, and stepped toward the center of his room, where Ren had already made himself comfortable sitting on the edge of Hux’s desk.
“Why do you think I’m here?” Kylo asked, before Hux could even begin to inquire the purpose of his visit.
The year had been far too exhaustive for Hux to even consider entertaining the newly-minted Supreme Leader at the end of it by humoring his childish gimmicks through guessing.
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I wouldn’t begin to know,” he admitted flatly. “Was there an untracable murder within High Command that you suspect I had some involvement in?”
Kylo removed his helmet and placed it with a hollow thunk on the edge of Hux’s desk. The look in his eye was unamused.
Wishful thinking, Hux chastised himself. He shouldn’t let his hopes get the better of him.
Slowly, Ren pulled back the side of his cape and slid a rectangular white box from beneath its folds.
Hux’s heart jumped, and something light and warm fluttered in his chest. His lips parted in surprise.
For a moment, he was that young boy in the academy again, sitting curiously at the edge of his bunk as the officers distributed gifts from parents and siblings to each of the cadets, waiting eagerly for his turn to receive a gift that he had yet to learn would never come.
As quickly as the feeling had come, Hux squashed it down. He sealed his lips shut as his eyes traveled back up to meet Ren’s, struggling to find the right words to say.
“Did you think I forgot?” the knight asked, his lips quirked cockily up at one corner and his tone dripping in infuriating smugness to match.
Yes. Hux wanted to say.
“No, I figured you must have been quite busy today, and there were matters far more pressing that took precedence,” he said instead. “Supreme Leader,” he tacked on at the end, just in case Kylo was still in a bad mood.
Kylo slid easily off the desk and approached Hux, pushing the box into his chest.
With clumsy fingers, Hux accepted the gift, staring down at it in a mixture of astonishment and wonder. Once a year, his only present.
Hux could count the number of genuine Life Day presents he’d received in his whole lifetime from anyone on a single hand. This year, the number would have to be counted on two. What an event to celebrate, indeed.
He set the box reverently down on the edge of his desk. Were his hands trembling? Was he breathing too loud? He couldn’t seriously be getting emotional over a singular pair of socks, could he? Either way, he didn’t want Ren around to see it. Best to usher him out and open it on his own.
“Thank you, Supreme Leader. Unfortunately, it is somewhat late, and I think I’ll wait to open this to—”
“No. You will open it now,” Kylo interrupted, his lips pinched in a signature pout that reminded Hux of the young boys in the academy who actually had parents who cared enough to send them gifts.
They were the type to be scolded for throwing rocks, but strangely, once a grenade was placed in their hands and was thrown in the same manner, they received congratulations before they were old enough to distinguish the difference between the two actions. Chastised for being destructive, but raised for no other purpose.
Hux’s lip pinched in poorly concealed annoyance. Ren always had a knack for ruining special moments. “That’s very much in the holiday spirit, Supreme Leader,” he said drily. Not that the “holiday spirit” meant much of anything to Hux.
“Don’t make me order you.”
The irony of his own statement may be lost on Kylo, however the sharpness of his tone was not lost on Hux. The knight may have been simply teasing, but Hux wasn’t about to test his luck with a responding quip.
With a gentle breath and a quivering fingers, Hux lifted the lid and gently set it aside.
This time, instead of just a squashed set of knitted fabric in an otherwise empty box, there was a veil of thin, elegant paper padding the entirety of the box, folded over itself at the top, and sealed with a small golden sticker bearing exquisite writing in lovely loops and swirls that most likely came from lavish markets around Canto Bight.
Hux paused in shock. Never in his life had he received anything so fine. The paper itself seemed to be spun of the same delicate wisps of shimmering vapor that the clouds on temperate planets were formed from, and the sticker was perhaps the most extravagant and dazzling thing he now owned.
He must have been standing before his desk, staring down at the gift’s packaging for much longer than Kylo had the patience for. A sharp cough shattered the soft sense of wonder that had settled over him.
Hux delicately peeled the sticker from the pearlescent paper—careful not to tear either—and pushed the two folds aside to reveal its contents. He peered curiously into the layers of lovely packaging, his heart pounding against his ribcage.
Two columns of fabric were nestled comfortably side by side in the gossamer paper, laying neatly like Marlello eggs in a nest.
Hux drew out one of the long, silky swaths of fabric for a closer inspection.
They were tall, thin tubes of delicately woven, fine mesh in black, trimmed with a thick band of thin black lace sporting intricate patterns of stems and flowers.
“I thought of you when I saw them,” Kylo’s voice wafted into Hux’s ears from somewhere behind him.
Hux blinked, attempting to decipher what his eyes were seeing. Confusion pushed at the edges of his awe as he looked the item up and down skeptically.
The fabric was no doubt the epitome of luxury, and Hux was sure no finer material for the skin existed in all the galaxy. He turned the item over in his hands, inspecting the end opposite to the lace, where fine seams closed the tube up in a series of small, neat, even stitches.
Kylo had, as he had every year, delivered on his promise of socks, though the mesh stockings were a far cry from the usual regulation knitted blend. Hux could confidently say that not once had he even dreamed of receiving lingerie from anyone, let alone Kylo Ren.
“Supreme Leader,” he began uncertainly, turning the item over in his hands, “while this is a lovey gift, there must be some mistake.”
Gloved hands settled on the crests of his hips, thumbs massaging into the small of his back, as an unshapely nose pushed at the hair behind his left temple.
“I want to see you in them,” Kylo breathed into his ear, his voice trembling with want.
Fear sunk cold and heavy into the pit of his stomach, then humiliation, burning in his chest.
This is why Ren must have come. To humiliate him again, this time in the supposed safety and privacy of his own quarters. So every time he would think to escape to the security of his home aboard the Supremacy, he would be reminded of how Ren’s power over him extended far beyond the sight of his inferiors, who now grew fewer and further in between. When he sat at his own desk, he would be forced to remember that the Supreme Leader could order him to do anything, and Hux had no capacity to refuse him.
Hux wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry.
Truly, the universe could not have made a worse year for him. And at the last minute, it crushed his only consolation, only to send his hopes skyrocketing for a brief moment of joy before sending them crashing down again.
Hux looked down at the box on the desk. He now desperately wanted to incinerate it, or throw it out of the airlock, or maybe both.
The weight of the single stocking in his hands suddenly felt comparable to that of a sun.
Kylo’s breath was warm and damp against Hux’s neck as he whispered, “Let me put them on you.”
His eyes flickered to Kylo again, unsureness rapidly dousing his anger. Kylo’s eyes were deep and wanting, silently examining Hux’s figure through the folds and pleats of the robe as those large hands continued to trace the outline of his hips.
Perhaps this was some elaborate joke.
No matter the motive, Hux would play along.
Kylo must have somehow felt the resistance leave his shoulders, for he slowly spun Hux around to face him.
“Will you let me do that?” he asked, his voice soft and low.
Hux rubbed the thin material of the stocking between his fingers, examining the lace with unseeing eyes. Finally, he managed a small nod of acquiescence.
At once, Kylo’s arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, lifting him off his feet with an incredulous yelp, and seating him on the surface of the desk.
Kylo gripped the middle finger of his glove between his teeth and yanked it off, spitting the glove onto Hux’s floor, then followed in suit for the other.
Messy. Hux thought petulantly.
With a majestic sweep of his cape, like the wings of a Chandrilan Blackback blocking out the sun from above, Kylo kneeled before him.
A spark of warmth shot into Hux’s belly at the sight.
The Supreme Leader, on his knees before him. What a sight to behold.
The Blackbacks of Chandrila came to mind once more: a truly beautiful creature, a powerful bird of prey with a massive wingspan that would darken the very sun above.
And above all, a prize.
Hunted for sport, their heads made a fine trophy indeed—not to mention an incredible story certain to impress. Now, they were under strict protections of the Chandrilan government, but—should he ever get the chance to visit such a world—Hux would very much like to claim one for himself.
Another decoration for his long list of accomplishments, which he would prefer to add “overcoming Ren” to as well.
A warm hand moved for one of Hux’s legs, dangling over the side of his desk, and enclosed around the back of his ankle, guiding a leg into his lap.
The Supreme Leader, kneeling before him like a consort to his General, as though he were about to massage his feet and ask him about his day.
Instead, he extends a hand towards Hux, fingers flicking at the soft, silky garment insolently.
“May I?” he smiled, his eyes glimmering with an almost playful glint.
A warm blush crept up Hux’s cheeks as the fantasy melted woefully away. Alongside Ren’s ability to ruin moods, he possessed an uncanny ability to scrape the thoughts out of heads. It was an all-around efficient trick for handling tight-lipped prisoners, but a double edged sword when it came to plucking the thoughts from unsuspecting members of the crew when they were unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.
Hux had witnessed it all too many times during meetings with high command. Ren’s attentions would appear to drift away, or he would stare blankly and silently ahead before suddenly turning, with a few sharp words on his tongue, to any less-than-loyal officials whose less-than-loyal thoughts weren’t closely guarded.
Hux found himself too embarrassed to stop himself from passing the stocking placidly to Kylo, the warm wisps of his fantasy bleeding away into the cold air of the room.
Ren plucked the stocking from his fingers, the echoes of what must have been a smirk dancing upon his lips, but, unfortunately, Hux was unable to see clearly.
A warm, calloused hand stroked up the blade of Hux’s shin and down around the side of his calf in a manner most unprofessional.
“You shave?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet that had fallen in the absence of their words.
“Yes, Supreme Leader.”
Hux may have imagined it, but he swore he felt a telltale twitch beneath his toes around the crotch area of Kylo’s trousers.
The smirk on Kylo’s face, however, was most certainly not imagined—at least this time.
“Sounds about right,” Kylo said, his fingers bunching up the fabric of the stocking in preparation to slide it on.
He leaned back slightly, fitting the end of the stocking over Hux’s toes and down his foot. A gentle hand beneath his ankle, and the stocking was over his foot, with a few touches of adjustment around the sides.
Hux bit his lip, his cheeks no doubt burning brightly as he watched Kylo slide the slip of fabric slowly up his calf.
The idea was ludicrous: the Supreme Leader, on his knees before him, dressing his pet General like one of those ornate dolls in the display windows of fancy shops for elite nobles.
Kylo’s eyes shifted up to meet Hux’s as he pulled the stocking over his knee and up his thigh.
The gesture was too intimate, most inappropriate for any sort of professional relationship. Hux looked away, affixing his eyes on Kylo’s hands instead.
And what a mistake that was, for Hux’s mind slipped from nefarious thoughts about how lovely Ren’s eyes were to how clever his hands were.
His mind was flooded with perfidious ideas of those warm hands settling on his waist, or pinning his arms to the sheets, or—most insidiously—sliding his fingers between Hux’s and pressing their palms together in a grasp of visceral intimacy.
The idea was dangerously delicious and equally preposterous. Most treacherous and treasonous thoughts, indeed.
Kylo’s hands were near the tops of his thighs now, pinching and pulling the stocking into place around his knees and adjusting its hem.
The height was awkward—ending three quarters of the way up his thigh, just at the hem of his boxers—but Hux supposed it could have been much worse.
Ren followed suit with the other stocking in much the same manner: slow, delicate, and altogether too personal. He finished his work by running the backs of his fingers over the lace, then sliding a hand down Hux’s leg.
Hux stared blankly down at his legs, attempting to reconcile the scrawny limbs he had been teased mercilessly for (among his other attributes) as a cadet, and the vision of his lower half that more closely resembled something possibly seen in racy videos circulated among stormtroopers.
He flexed his toes experimentally, as if to remind his brain that yes, in fact, this was his own body dressed in a scant pair of stockings that likely cost a small fortune to procure.
By now, the idea that this was all simply some joke had thoroughly disintegrated, the very dust of the thought being swept away.
Hux’s eyes traveled back to Ren, to search for answers in his eyes perhaps, but found himself suddenly crowded further up onto the desk with the knight between his now stocking-clad legs.
“Ren,” he started, as if to muddle through an impromptu speech about professionalism and what was clearly too close for coworkers, when Kylo’s mouth met his neck.
In that moment, any potential words fizzled out of Hux’s brain and escaped his mouth in a soft moan.
And if that wasn’t enough, those damnable hands were around his waist, warm, and solid, and bare. Skin-to-skin, Hux could feel the slight scrape of the calluses on those wretched and wonderful palms against the smooth, soft areas of his hips.
To his shame, Hux thoroughly melted under Ren’s touch.
How foreign and delightful and delicious the feeling of warm breath and soft kisses were against the parts of him so often hid under his uniform. How taboo and scandalous to be handled so by one’s superior, no matter how unqualified for their position they were.
As if suddenly coming to his senses, Kylo pulled away.
Hux would deny to his last breath leaning closer in some sort of attempt to keep those plush lips on his skin for a few seconds more.
“We aren’t done yet,” the knight said softly with a sultry, wicked curl to his lips. “What about the rest of your gift?”
The rest…?
Hux blinked in confusion, the pleasant haze that had settled over his mind under the knight’s ministrations dissipating rapidly. His gaze flitted between the box sitting beside him on his desk and Ren, a mix of fear and excitement causing his heart to flutter in his chest.
“I couldn’t find it in myself to break the set,” Kylo’s voice rumbled low and soothing in his chest. “Especially for someone who would wear it well.”
With trembling fingers, Hux reached over to lift the second layer of paper, and reveal the box’s hidden secrets.
A silky thing in black laid neatly over the seemingly infinite sheets of fine packaging.
Hux lifted the garment gingerly.
Panties.
Made of shimmering black satin, with lace cutouts on either side of his hips sporting designs woven in intricate patterns.
Hux turned the garment around and couldn’t help when his jaw fell open.
The rear was completely covered in a fine black mesh that left nothing to the imagination, save where delicate swirls of lace decorated the edge. As if once inside, his butt would be presented in a frame of black embroidered petals and leaves for an admiring audience of one.
Hux glanced toward Kylo, then looked wordlessly down at his boxers, his voice lost somewhere among the wreckage of his pride at this point.
“I suppose those will have to come off, now won’t they, General?” Kylo hummed as he leaned in close to whisper in Hux’s ear, “But I can help you with that too.”
Hux felt his world fade away to just the warm pressure of Kylo’s hands on his waist and his voice reverberating in the space between his ears.
“Yes, Supreme Leader,” he said breathlessly, and the garment slipped from his grasp with a gentle tug.
A firm hand on his chest pushed him back-down onto the desk, and Hux released a quiet breath as his vision refocused on the ceiling of his quarters.
Those perfect hands lifted his hips, thumbs hooking under the waistband of his boxers, and pulled slowly down.
Hux propped himself up onto his elbows to stare muzzily down at Kylo’s work.
The suspense was agonizing and the brush of the knight’s fingers against his skin was a tantalizing treat.
His face must be flushed a most unattractive shade of crimson by now, Hux thought.
As the elastic band of his underwear dragged lower, a small bubble of panic welled up in Hux’s chest.
He quickly covered his crotch with a sleeve before the waistband passed over his cock.
Stars, he could practically feel the weight of Ren’s gaze on him, just as he could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment.
Being raised in the academy meant spending lots of time around other boys, so the shame of being exposed had long since been tamped down. And he wasn’t by any means small, but…
If it had been anyone other than Ren, he might not have been so frustratingly, humiliatingly shy.
The knight was built like a dream, large, broad, rugged, rough around the edges–everything Hux wasn’t. Everything he would have given to look like under the cruel words hurled at him from those in his past. Thankfully, most now long dead under mysterious and unfortunate circumstances.
As if sensing the prickly edges of Hux’s conscious flagellating himself for something he had no control over, Kylo leaned over and pressed a quick peck to his forehead.
The thoughts dissipated as quickly as they had come, leaving Hux marinating in the sudden surprise of such a gentle gesture.
As if a quick kiss could heal each and every one of his past injuries.
Kylo slid his boxers all the way off and dropped them somewhere beyond the edge of the desk where Hux could not see. He lifted one of Hux’s legs, guiding one foot through its respective opening and followed suit with the other, sliding the garment delicately up his legs.
His eyes locked on Hux’s as the panties were pulled up neatly around his waist.
Hux appraised his lower half quietly, the slim angles and edges of his body, now sheathed in a mixture of satin and lace.
The satin rubbed smoothly over his cock, and the back felt unsurprisingly breezy as he shifted on his desk.
Kylo’s fingers were under his shirt in a heartbeat, pushing it up in an attempt to encourage Hux to take it off.
Wordlessly, he shrugged the robe off his shoulders, relishing Ren’s touch sliding up his chest as the shirt was peeled away from his body and over his head.
“I like that robe on you,” Kylo said, his voice low and melodic in the silence of the room. “Keep it on.”
Hux huffed irritably.
An elaborate game of dress-up for the Supreme Leader was not how he imagined his night ending, but the chill of the recycled air over his bare skin was enough to quash any arguments he had brewing.
The satin-y texture of the robe complimented the panties nicely, a darker corner of his mind quipped.
Once Hux had wiggled back under the safety of his robe, Kylo stretched a hand out towards him.
“Come,” he grinned, like a beast ready to devour its hapless prey.
And like the small mammals that would attempt to skitter away into hiding from the great predatory bird of the Chandrilan skies, Hux took it.
He was pulled easily off the desk and into Kylo’s arms and hungry touches.
Hux shifted hesitantly, the brush of lace against his nether regions foreign, but not quite uncomfortable.
The back was unsurprisingly breezy, and every brush of the robe against his buttocks felt as though there wasn’t even a thin film of lace between them.
Kylos fingers traced the slopes of muscle on his neck, drifting down toward the sharp jut of his collarbones through milky pale skin.
As if he, himself, was convincing himself that it was actually (a quite bewildered) Hux in his arms and not a mild-mannered fake.
The minutes stretched on as Ren appraised him silently, his hands warm and content to explore Hux’s body.
Kylo and his knights—as Hux had come to learn from the unfortunate close contact and frequent visits—had many strange rituals that performed under the guise of “becoming more in tune with the force”, or whatever a wizard-cult of weirdos in ratty costumes chose to believe.
Judging from their bizarre habits, it wasn’t a stretch to consider that this was simply one of those “tests” that Snoke always seemed to drone on about.
As delicate and beautiful and dangerous as this was, it could all be some silly attempt for Kylo to refocus himself from the tangible world before him (like budgets, and plans that made more sense to the First Order, and not hunting up some nobody scavenger) to the mystic mumbo-jumbo philosophies taught by dead men who contradicted themselves daily.
A large hand settled gently over his chest, more gently than Hux would have thought Kylo capable of just a few short hours ago. Hux was startled from his thoughts when the tip of a calloused finger slid over a small, sensitive nipple, pebbled from the cool air.
Hux shivered under his hands.
“This isn’t about the Force, Hux.” Kylo’s voice lifted the veil of silence that settled over the room. “It’s about you.”
Hux would have been more startled—and much more irritated—by Ren skimming the thoughts off the top of his head if not for the last few words.
“What do you mean?” Hux asked sharply.
Kylo pulled Hux in closer, and the General found his hands pressed against the fabric over two very firm pectorals. Warmth bloomed on his cheeks.
Built like a dream indeed.
The knight didn’t need to know how many fantasies Hux dreamed of at night involving his broad chest and supple muscle.
A small huff above him could have easily been a laugh, but Hux chose—for the sake of his pride—to believe Ren had not heard that thought.
“It’s about what you want,” Kylo spoke. “Whether you know it yet or not.”
Mumbo-jumbo indeed.
Hux was about to bite back a dry retort when a leg rubbed between his thighs.
He released a pitiful squeak instead.
“So pretty,” Kylo purred, his hands running down his back through the soft fabric of the robe.
Kylo’s words settled warmly into the base of his stomach, and Hux felt cock twitch with interest against Ren’s thigh. Thankfully, the knight didn’t comment on it, seemingly preoccupied with his body.
Pretty.
Not skinny or pasty or bony. Not thin as a rail and half its weight.
“I should have bought a lacy little bralette along with all this, too,” Kylo said. “I’d bet it would feel as good as it would look over your nipples.”
Hux squirmed under Kylo’s gentle touch, as if speaking would shatter this fragile moment he had somehow found himself in.
“What a gift you are,” Ren hummed, his hands sliding under Hux’s butt to lift him higher up his leg so they were at eye level. “My lovely general, all wrapped up for me.”
“I’ve already given you your gift, Ren,” Hux breathed softly. “I sent it to your quarters this morning.”
“As your Supreme Leader now, I think I can settle for having two per year from you,” he grinned.
Hux rolled his eyes.
“Besides,” his warm hands traveled down Hux’s stocking-clad legs, “I think one is my favorite. Maybe I should assign you a new job: being my lovely little plaything.”
Hux filed away that “lovely” in the distinct timbre of Kylo’s voice in his head to play over and over during future nights. Something to think about later.
However, currently, Hux was more interested in prodding the knight and his gentle hands and his flattering words.
“Making me a slave, like you’re some deplorable crime ring leader on a backwater planet?” he scoffed. “Truly a phenomenal use for your staff.”
“Why not?” Kylo purred, tilting Hux’s chin up with a finger. “You’re pretty enough for it to work.”
Miraculously, Hux was saved from the mortification of sputtering indignantly from two compliments in such short succession as Kylo claimed his lips with a hungry kiss.
The kiss was just like Ren, bold, hard, brusque, full of teeth and hard edges. Hux almost missed him when he pulled away.
“But that wouldn’t be your only job,” he continued slowly. “No, you would be by my side at all times. Sending orders from my lap, General. You would be mine. And everyone would know it.”
Hux squirmed, the heat of Ren’s gaze burning into his eyes as his hands smoothed slowly down his sides in a way that made shivers skitter up his spine.
“And I’d call for you, and you would prepare for my arrival. I’d come back from a mission—from conquering the galaxy—and there you’d be, lying pretty on my sheets, dressed up in whatever I’d bought for you, needy and wanting from being left all alone. Safe from all the unpleasantries of the universe.”
Kylo leaned closer, and Hux was nearly certain he arched his body into Ren’s with a whine, desperate for more contact.
Kylo nosed gently around the crook of Hux’s neck and inhaled deeply, relishing the clean scent of common soaps mixed with that special aroma that was uniquely, undeniably Hux, the origins of which Kylo could never quite place his finger on. Clean, smooth, controlled. Just like the man himself.
“I’d play with you so nice,” he hummed, those broad hands circling Hux’s trim waist, sheathed in satin. “Make you feel so good, so wanted. Make you squeal for me then wrap you up in my arms where no one can get you. No one could have you but me.”
Ren’s hands pulled his hips toward his cock, grinding their pelvises together through the layers of clothing.
Hux gasped, his eyes widening. Stars, he could feel the thick outline of Ren’s frankly massive cock through the panties as if there was nothing between them at all.
“You'd be all mine. My precious, sweet General.”
Hux’s eyes rolled back in his head as he closed them, his focus sharpening to the rhythmic presses of Kylo’s hips to his own and the bruising grip around his hips.
“Then make me yours,” he breathed softly.
“Hm?” Kylo hummed, the baritone notes of his voice rolling pleasantly over Hux’s brain in warm, soothing waves.
Hux’s eyes peeled open to meet Kylo’s hungry gaze.
“Make me yours, my lord.”
The soft smile on Kylo’s face was worth all the stars in the galaxy and more.
“As you wish.”
And Hux’s world shifted once again as those strong arms lifted him easily up and carried him to his bed.
Hux sunk onto his mattress with a pleased sigh, arching his back to chase the knight’s warm touch as it slid away from his body.
Kylo’s cape was dropped to the floor behind him and his tunic was undone and cast aside in the blink of an eye.
Hux would complain about the mess on his floor later, no doubt, but currently, all he could bring himself to care about was Ren’s touch returning to caress his legs and part them slowly.
Hux stared with half-lidded eyes as Ren leaned into the parting of his thighs.
Kylo’s mouth was hot and filthy, his steamy breath soaking into the satin around Hux’s nether regions as he laid messy, open-mouthed kisses over the fabric.
Hux gasped, grinding against Kylo’s mouth for more of that delicious pleasure.
The teasing passes of Kylo’s tongue through the satin and lace was enough to drive Hux mad with want.
Hux’s cock was filling out rapidly, his thighs trembling under the sturdy grip of Ren’s hands.
Kylo nuzzled the edge of his shaft through the soft satin, and Hux’s breath hitched. His cock only stiffened under Kylo’s gentle ministrations.
The knight pressed a soft goodbye kiss on the tip of Hux’s turgid tip, the curl of his lips naughty and wicked.
“You would spend all day lounging on silks in bed, if I ordered,” Kylo continued with the fantasy, leaning back on his heels between Hux’s spread legs, which framed his hips in a filthy portrait of lust. “I’ll bet you’d rub your pretty pink cock impatiently against the sheets when I don’t come back quick enough.”
Heat crawled up Hux’s cheeks at the thought. Surrounded by lush sheets of the finest quality, grinding against luxuries millions could only dream of as he awaited his knight in shining armor.
Seemingly from thin air, Kylo produced a bottle of clear, regulation lube and snapped the cap open.
“And I’d come home into your waiting arms and the embrace of your legs,” he hummed, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers, then reached down to push the panties aside and press against Hux’s puckered furl.
Hux’s heart hiccuped. The fantasy began to bleed away as fear licked at his mind.
This would be his first, and likely Ren’s most disappointingly inexperienced encounter.
And after how close they had come too, he thought forlornly.
The cool pressure of fingers between his legs snapped Hux back to the present.
“Wait, Ren! Please! I—” Hux paused, his mouth clamping shut as his voice failed him again.
“Hm?” Kylo hummed, his fingers tracing light circles around his hole. Hungry, but teasing, for now.
Hux’s eyes drifted down and away, focusing nervously at a patch of wall visible between Kylo’s arm and torso.
The damage was done. He’d said too much already.
Hux silently cursed himself and his own fear for speaking up. The echoes of his father’s voice berated him for his stupidity.
Should just grit your teeth and bear it. Don’t ruin this, Armitage.
“Nevermind,” he muttered quietly.
“Tell me, precious,” Kylo pressed, his fingers drawing away.
Hux felt his gut twist in fear as his chest gave a sharp twinge of hope.
The reverence of the word “precious” that warmed his heart, coupled with the terror of being unable to live up to expectations made Hux nearly dizzy with the desperation and pure want.
“Can you please go slow?” he asked finally, his voice frustratingly small. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “And be gentle?”
Kylo was silent in the sudden stillness of the room.
The weight was crushing, and the quiet was deafening. Hux’s chest squeezed in shame. He could easily imagine the disappointment and possible disgust the Supreme Leader was feeling currently.
Desperate to salvage the situation, he continued shakily, “This is the first time I’ve done this with someone else, and I’m not sure I can—”
A warm hand against his cheek caught him off guard.
“So I’m going to be your first?” Kylo asked gently.
Hux’s eyes flickered up.
Kylo’s face was unreadable, but not disgusted–at least not yet.
Unable to form words, Hux chose instead to nod meekly.
The kiss that followed was wholly unexpected and unfathomably gentle, sucking the breath and fear from Hux’s chest. Ren’s tongue slipped easily into his mouth, exploring him in the most gently intimate of ways.
When he withdrew, Hux’s eyes traced the lines and curves of his body before flicking up to meet Kylo’s. His heart stuttered in his chest, as if it were some sort of panicked Alderaanian flare-wing desperately trying to flutter out of his rib cage.
“Relax,” the knight whispered. “Let me take care of you.”
This time, the cool press of slick fingers was slow and easy, stretching and pausing for fixed intervals for him to relax.
Hux lay back, closing his eyes as the strange pulling and pressure became easier.
Kylo’s fingers were seamlessly replaced with the blunt head of his slick cock.
Hux sighed into the pillow beside him as his entrance was slowly breached. The slick slide of the knight’s length into his body was tight, but the turgid head crowding that sensitive bundle of nerves only accessed by toys was more than worth the trouble.
When their hips were pressed flush against each other, Kylo spoke again.
“The force shows me many things, both familiar and unfamiliar with its presence,” he said softly
Perhaps not the most adept at pillowtalk, but Hux could easily overlook that for the prize between his legs and the slow, steady slide of Kylo’s length against his inner walls.
“Even you, Hux. I can feel your presence, your thoughts, your emotions when they’re strong enough…” Kylo trailed off into silence, his fingers rubbing soothing circles into Hux’s thighs as the look behind his eyes slowly faded into something contemplative and distant.
“And what does the force show you about me right now?” Hux asked, quickly pulling the conversation–and Kylo’s head–back into the stratosphere.
Kylo blinked, his gaze refocusing gently on Hux’s body, lean and marble against the dark sheets.
“A yawning void.”
“Very poetic, Ren,” Hux said flatly.
“I can fill your void,” the knight whispered.
Hux balked.
“Ren, if that was a euphemism, I assure you, it was appallingly bad.”
Kylo’s broad hands sandwiched Hux’s head, and Hux gasped, unable to look away as Kylo leaned over him.
“I’ll destroy any planet to do so, add them to your list of conquests. I’ll bring any and every civilization to its knees until you feel whole.”
Ren’s eyes were dark, full of ferocious promise and keen earnesty.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he breathed, his thumbs stroking Hux’s cheeks. “If you would remain by my side.”
Hux’s hands came up to meet Kylo’s, his cool fingers meeting the warm skin of the knight’s palm.
“Could you…hold my hand?” he asked softly, blush licking at his cheeks.
At once, Kylo’s hand vanished from his face. His fingers slid between Hux’s own and squeezed gently.
A smile, soft and almost…sweet, crossed his face.
“Anything my favorite General desires,” he purred, leaning closer to push their heads against each other as his hips snapped forward more forcefully.
“What else do you see?” Hux asked.
Kylo was quiet again as he tinkered with the thoughts in his head, molding them into suitable words. “You’re lonely,” he said softly.
“It’s always lonely at the top,” Hux countered.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
And with their foreheads pressed together, rocking with Kylo’s thrusts, sharing gasping breaths upon the very place he was sure he would never be able to share with another, Hux could believe him.
“You could be with me. Spend your time in my bed, in my arms,” Kylo panted.
Hux squeezed his hand tighter, a gasp escaping his lips as Kylo angled his hips just so that every thrust made Hux’s pelvis seize with pleasure.
“You could be mine.”
Hux was helpless against the brutal assault of his prostate, shaking between the knight’s strong arms and his tight grasp.
Kylo’s lips scraped his own and caught them in a quick, messy kiss again.
“My perfect pet.”
Hux could feel his climax fast approaching, his breath catching in his throat, the words that would normally spill from his silver tongue lost on their way to the space between them.
Hux wailed, lost to the fantasy where he was Kylo’s expensive toy, a gift for the Supreme Leader, a pet to lay pampered and loved in Kylo’s arms, something to appreciate, something to be admired, and something to be valued with the capacity of an entire heart or more.
“I love you,” Kylo panted into Hux’s ear, and then the world slipped away into nothing but trembling, white-hot pleasure.
His fingernails dug into Kylo’s shoulders, as his body spasmed under the knight’s larger, stronger form, his cock spilling into the extravagant satin of the panties.
Warmth flooded him inside as the thrusts slowed to a halt, their hips pressed tightly together and their panting breaths mingling.
Kylo’s breathless words echoed pleasantly in his head.
I love you, I love you, I love you…
Hux gradually came back to himself with fuzzy thoughts, limbs made of lead, and the sound of his own panting–gradually slowing–filling the quiet of the room that had returned.
Ren slithered easily out of his grasp, and Hux was left sprawled out on his bed: a mess of a man.
The sound of feet padding away across his floor indicated Ren was likely leaving.
Despite his pride, Hux couldn’t find it in himself tonight to do any more than lie in the position he had been left in. Humiliation may have burned in his gut if he wasn’t so thoroughly satisfied.
Then, the footsteps approached him once more.
A cool cloth slid over his stomach, mopping up the visible remnants of his shame, taking care to wipe away the tiny flecks that had somehow made it all the way up to his chin.
Hux felt a warm hand under his knee shift his legs apart again, and before he could even begin formulating a coherent plea that he simply wouldn’t survive another round, the rag was swept between his cheeks and down his thigh where a thin dribble of cum had slipped from his hole before the hands and Ren moved away.
For a moment, Hux wondered if he had been finally abandoned to marinate in all the lovely lies the force user had panted into his ear, and would wake up tomorrow sore and bruised, unable to look the Supreme Leader in the eye.
Then those warm hands returned, this time maneuvering Hux’s pliant body gingerly to remove his robe.
Ah, his robe. The poor thing was likely filthy, soaked in sweat and various other types of unmentionable fluids, and would require an immediate cleaning. Unfortunately, Hux was in no state to immediately do anything but allow Kylo’s hands to clean him from his encounter and mold him back into shape for tomorrow.
The sheets below his back shifted as his body was turned again, this time with his legs half hanging over the edge of his bed, folded at the knee.
Hux propped himself up on his elbows dizzily, watching as an out-of-focus Ren kneeled at the edge of his bed, gently sliding the panties and then his stockings off one by one to set them aside. Perhaps for another encounter between them.
A powerful arm slid under his knees while its counterpart slipped behind Hux’s back.
His vision shifted again as Kylo placed him upright, sitting with his back against a small stack of pillows.
“There we are,” Kylo said softly, climbing in beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
Hux sighed against the solid warmth the knight provided. Perhaps he was going soft, he thought as he pressed himself closer to Kylo’s broad chest.
But as the moments dragged on into minutes, and Hux found himself lulled into a cozy stupor, his own criticisms seemed to die away.
“I have something for you,” Kylo said, breaking the silence as he reached over to Hux’s nightstand.
Hux might have craned his head to see what Ren was reaching for, had he not been so exhausted, so well-fucked, and so pleasantly comfortable.
“It’s only fair if you give me two gifts, I give you two as well.”
A box was placed over Hux’s lap.
It was slightly larger than the one which contained the set of lingerie. Hux frankly had no idea how he had possibly missed it sitting there all this time, but then again, his night had been thoroughly occupied from the moment Ren stepped into his quarters.
This time, he ignored any pesky thoughts jabbing at his pleasure or any unpleasant memories bruising his mood.
He lifted the lid of the box with a flick of his wrist.
There was no decorum, no fancy paper, no packaging at all.
Just a neatly folded uniform, matching the ones hanging neatly in Hux’s closet, but sewn from sheets of fine, white satin.
Stripes of gold glittered on the shoulders and left sleeve.
The uniform of a rank Hux knew he deserved.
“Would you be mine?” he asked softly, worry creeping into those brown puppy-dog eyes. “My consort, and my Grand Marshal?”
What a gift indeed, Hux thought.
He leaned closer and sealed the promise with a kiss.