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This was a waste of time.
Armitage kept telling himself this as he listened to everyone drone on and on. His presence here was largely unnecessary, but, apparently, this was to be a “learning experience” for him. Or so said his father.
He cast his eyes over at Brendol, trying not to roll his eyes as he spoke of wanting peace in the galaxy.
What a load of bantha shit.
As if he weren’t attempting to resurrect the Empire right under these Republic snobs’ noses.
Turning away, he found his eyes captured once more by the only other youngling, one representing the supposed neutral party here, as if everyone didn’t know the Jedi tended to ally with the Republic. Brendol had been rather annoyed that they were to be there. According to him, it would have been better if there was no neutral party, better that it was just those representing the Outer Rim and those of the Republic. Not this farce of a parlay.
Armitage, however, was finding that it was perhaps, not the worst thing they were here. Not for any logical reason, but this brown haired boy that kept capturing his attention. They’d yet to say anything to each other —the talks only having just started— but he couldn’t help the upward twitch of his lips as their eyes met, especially with the grin that covered the other boy’s lips.
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about his lips, though, not while he was stuck in this meeting, which would take who knew how long. Unless…
Armitage stood. Brendol, in the middle of talking, shot him a look as he began to walk away, but he paid it no mind. Perhaps he would be reprimanded later, but it mattered little to him. He wouldn’t do much here, not within earshot of the Republic. And if he was lucky, his emotions would be too high at the conclusion of this summit to remember this.
The other parties seemed to barely register that he was leaving as he cast a look over his shoulder, meeting the boy’s eyes once more time, shooting him a smirk.
It took less time than he’d thought for the boy to come barreling after him, grabbing his hand and pulling him away, away, as far from the tents they could get without truly going into the marsh itself. Armitage couldn’t help but let out a laugh as he was dragged along, splotches of color high on his cheeks.
Finally, they reached wherever the other boy had decided was their destination. Their hands were still clasped together as he turned around, a bright grin on his plush lips, dark hair tangled a little now, after their run. Without thinking, Armitage brushed a strand out of his face, tucking it behind an ear.
The pink that then stained the boy’s cheeks caused him to drop his hand, suddenly feeling like he crossed a line. After all, he didn’t even know this boy, even if he was so ridiculously enchanting, had him leaving an important meeting.
“Hi,” Armitage said softly, unable to keep the smile off his lips.
“Hi,” was the reply, voice milder than he would have thought, given this boy’s looks, his height and the breadth he already had, even in his adolescence.
“I’m Armitage. Armitage Hux.”
“Ben Solo-Organa.”
Armitage raised an eyebrow and the boy groaned.
“Yes, Leia Organa is my mother. But I...I’m not her. I’m not them . So don’t...don’t call me by that name.”
He kept quiet for a moment, taking it all in. He hadn’t meant anything other than confirming his mother. He didn’t truly care if he was anything like her (well, perhaps a little, but only just that). But he could understand most people judging based off of parentage--everyone always thought he succeeded in the Academy because of his father, the Commandant. They never thought that perhaps he would instead ignore his son, never think he was living up to the legacy he was starting. Never thought that, maybe, Armitage hated his father.
“What should I call you then?”
The boy gave a hesitant smile then, relief painting his features, relief that he wasn’t going to judge him based on her. He looked around then, as if someone would be hiding in one of the trees instead of at the meeting.
“Kylo. Kylo Ren,” he whispered, his eyes daring Armitage to laugh, to make fun of his name.
He only smiled, instead, hand reaching up again to cup his face, thumb rubbing across his cheek.
“Well then, Kylo Ren, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He felt a thread of heat run through him as he pulled Kylo to him, hands still clasped together, his other hand now at the back of Kylo’s neck, fingers tangling in his dark hair.
Now, he let himself think of those plush lips as they moved against his.
Perhaps this wasn’t a waste of time, after all, if it meant he got to have this.