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It’s not like the cybernetics don’t bring his function right back to where it was, with some additional infra-red and diagnostic skills. If it’s from a purely utilitarian point of view, then the device he’s forced to wear, pushed into his socket and augmenting his eye, he’s better than he was before.
Functionally.
If only it were that simple.
The device is shored into his face, and although it’s covered over as much as possible, there’s still scar tissue. The augmented filter that sits over and emulates a normal eye doesn’t dilate or constrict like a ‘regular’ one, or not to the same extent as his natural eye, and that makes it unsettling at first. The electrodes wired into his optic nerve are all hidden, but the gash that runs over his face, cutting through his eyebrow and into his cheek… it’s unmistakable.
Hux hadn’t been sure how he’d feel once the swelling went down. It’s just… aesthetic, but it’s… also not. It’s there, every time anyone looks at him. It’s there, every time he looks in the mirror. It’s there when he rubs his eyes when he’s tired. It’s there in the regular check ups and upgrades. It’s… there. A permanent reminder of his failure to operate as well as he should (i.e. perfectly).
And worse, now Ren is avoiding him.
Is he truly that ugly? Just because there’s a score across his face? It’s not nearly as disfiguring as Hux imagined, even though the implant definitely slowed the recovery, and made a bigger impact. Without it, his depth perception would be reduced, so…
Hux has never thought of himself as attractive. He’s - his goals were always something more material, more… tangible than some distant, subjective target. He’d been fine with ‘not horrifying’, until he’d ended up bedding the Knight.
But now the Knight won’t come near him, won’t meet his eyes (or eye and a half), and spends as much time as possible away from him.
Which. Is.
It’s… shocking how much he’s come to depend upon him. Not just for work-based reasons (though he knows he needs him for them), but for… companionship. Company. Emotional stuff. He doesn’t even really care if Kylo never wants to fuck him again, but to go from someone he could confide in, someone he could relax around, to being shunned like some pariah?
He holds out as long as he can, before he finally confronts him. He feels… he feels… every bit of his skin is parched of fluids, other than his palms and his forehead. Everything is fragile, and he is sure he’s able to feel his bone-marrow melting.
But he has to do this.
He’d never forgive himself if he let Kylo Ren just walk away.
“If you’re going to shun me, you could at least be an adult about it. I didn’t know aesthetics were that important to you,” he sneers, sounding more angry than he wanted to. He wanted to mend bridges, not burn them.
“…that’s what you think this is?”
“It’s pretty obvious from where I’m standing! You think I’m disgusting, and you won’t–”
Kylo’s hand lifts, asking for silence. Hux seethes in annoyance, but grants it.
“It isn’t that.”
“Then why won’t you come near me?”
“…It’s… my fault.”
“Well, yes, that’s patently obvious.” Hux would roll his eyes if he weren’t so close to choking on a sob.
“Your injury. It’s my fault for not… protecting you.”
“So you punish me by dumping me?”
“I can’t - when I look at you, all I see is how I hurt you, Hux, I–”
Wait. So this whole thing is guilt? “Look at me, right now.”
Kylo shakes his head.
“Look. At. Me. The pain you said you should have stopped - the physical pain - is nothing compared to you walking out of my life like I mean nothing more than something to look pretty on your arm.”
“Hux, that… that isn’t what I…” Kylo stares at the ceiling, his jaw working his neck-muscles tight. “I… I’m sorry. I… it isn’t that you… I…”
Fuck. Hux walks over, grabbing Kylo’s hand. He rips off his glove, and slams the man’s hand on his cheek. “Feel it.”
“Hux!”
“Feel it. I’m - I’m broken. I’m… flawed. But I’m still alive. And if I’m alive, I can still hurt. If I was dead, I wouldn’t be able to.”
Kylo won’t look, but his fingertips slide into the scar tissue, stroking it so softly that Hux could almost scream.
“If you push me away, it would hurt me far worse than any injury ever could,” he admits. “So. Don’t.”
“I’m sorry,” Kylo says, finally looking at him. “Does it hurt… here?”
“No. Not any more.” A wan smile. “Not physically.”
Hux closes his eyes as Kylo leans in, his lips going to his brow, kissing him ‘better’. It hurts, but it isn’t physical. And at least he knows it isn’t for the Knight, either.