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It’s already uncomfortable enough, undressing in front of Kylo Ren. Not because Hux is unused to being undressed in front of others (okay, so it’s been a while since he had to resort to communal changing rooms or gym areas), but because it’s Kylo Ren.
A man who not so much as wears clothes as tactical, offensive fabric. Layers like shields, and a mask that makes him look something droid-like and inhuman.
And who - it’s painfully obvious through those layers - could snap Hux in half with his thighs. He’s got the physique of a fighter, and Hux is… a strategist. Not a warrior in the brute force sense.
So his hands hesitate over the layers of his own, peeling himself bare (pale, thin, useless) and hoping that somehow his svelte form will appeal in a different way. Someone has to like people thinner and less bulky than themselves, right? They can’t all prefer biceps like Star Destroyers…
His pants are folded neatly, as he undresses much like he dresses. In order, one thing at a time, as evenly as he can. It’s not erotic or alluring, because Hux is trying to cover his nerves over with his professional air, but then he sees Kylo’s eyes go wide, and his brows disappear under falls of dark hair.
“…what?” Hux snaps, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself and hide, or bark at him to leave.
“…you… I had no idea.”
“What? If this is your idea of hazing me…”
Get his hopes up. Play a ridiculously slow game of awkward courtship, and even more awkward not-quite-discussions. Fleeting touches and sniping compliments… it would be one hell of a long game if so.
It’s obvious, Hux thinks, that he’s pale. That he’s slender. That he spent his energy growing tall, not thick. Did Kylo expect… magical muscle constraining clothing? Or–
“I had no idea you had a problem.”
“My problem right now is that you are being utterly insensitive. If you don’t really want–”
“I didn’t say that,” Kylo rushes out, and pulls those big lips into his mouth. “I… do I need to be careful with you?”
“I am not a porcelain doll!” Though he is sounding a little like one with how shrill that comes across.
“I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to hurt your legs.”
His legs? What? Is this some ham-fisted attempt at flirtation? His legs? “Why, because you intend to bend them, or wanted me to bend you with them?”
“…to put it crudely, yes.”
“I am perfectly sound in my body.”
“…but…” Kylo waves. “Those?”
“What about them?”
“…aren’t… don’t you need to keep them on?”
Hux looks down. “Only if you want to fuck me with my socks on, Kylo.”
And then it clicks. Kylo wasn’t insulting his physique. He was genuinely concerned for his physical wellbeing. If… weirdly so.
“Oh,” Kylo mumbles, blushing bright red.
“I am more than capable of bending, standing, sitting… everything without them,” Hux reassures him. “And if you’d like to forget this ever happened, we could instead move to the part where we prove it.”
Sometimes you have to be a little forthright in what you want. And maybe be clearer about what you’re not saying. Hmmm. Next time he’ll remember to push more directly to understand, so they don’t talk at cross-purposes.
After the fucking. Because now Hux needs it twice over.