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“Don’t give me that look! It wasn’t my fault!”
Kylo didn’t want to look at Hux—was worried of his response, but he couldn’t help it, glancing up through a sheet of his hair, head ducked slightly. It seemed Hux was doing his best to not roll his eyes, an eyebrow arched. Not much different than his usual expression, then. But still he couldn’t—there was something, there had to be something. Hux was mad. There was no other thing he could be.
“Oh really? And whose fault was it, exactly?”
Kylo stared at him, more open this time, started to sputter something—anything—the words weren’t obvious but he couldn’t—Hux wouldn’t believe him no matter what he did. It was obvious what had happened, wasn’t it? Kylo couldn’t convince him, never had been able to. But, he had to try, didn’t he?
“It was—I didn’t. I mean. Okay, in all technicality, yes , I did it, but I—it wasn’t really—”
He cut off with a frustrated groan, fingers pushing through his hair, pulling it completely away from his face, but he didn’t—he couldn’t care. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Then again, he hadn’t truly had a plan for this conversation, had hoped it wouldn’t happen, but it was just—he couldn’t—
“Kylo.”
He looked up, Hux just staring back at him, features still unamused but—maybe that was a hint of something in those gray-green eyes.
“I didn’t mean to imply that I am angry with you.”
“But I--you--”
“I am disappointed, yes.” Hux relaxed his posture, though his hands were still clasped behind his back. But his shoulders dropped. That—that had to be something, didn’t it?
He stepped forward, into Kylo’s personal space. Kylo wanted—more than anything—to push forward, lay his head against him, feel those thin fingers in his hair, dragging across his scalp. But he couldn’t—he wouldn’t. Not yet.
The corner of Hux’s lips twitched upwards, the smallest hint of a smile he was likely to get, at least right now. A small—almost imperceptible in the way he only just twitched his head—nod. Warmth bloomed in him at that—that he had managed to somewhat do right even if—even though the damage was, after all, his fault.
“I’m sorry,” Kylo choked out, finally. The words had been biting at him for a while, since—since this had all happened, since Hux arrived. Since he’d first seen that look on his face, the one that spoke of anger or disappointment, sometimes—too many times, probably—both. But he couldn’t just—the words had stuck in his throat.
A gloved hand caressed his jaw, then, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch. Kylo couldn’t help it. It was—everything was too much, he needed this, needed Hux’s touch, covered though it was. Luckily, Hux was kind, allowed him to rest more of the weight of his head in his palm.
“Apology accepted, dearest.”
Kylo let out a breath, then, relief washing through him. Maybe—maybe he could be okay, eventually. Maybe not right now—his mind was still jumping from thought to thought, his body still trembling, even under Hux’s hand but he—as long as Hux had him, he could be.
He was pulled up, then. Pulled closer to Hux—still not as close as he’d like, wanting to be as close as he could be, bodies practically melding together, just for the feel of him against his skin—for the contact, the realness. That he was here—he was real.
Lips pressed against his own. Kylo practically melted into the light embrace—one hand was still on his jaw, the other had slithered around his back, now, holding him.
Backing away, Hux looked around him, at the consoles still sparking, the smoldering durasteel. He sighed. Kylo winced—he knew it didn’t look good, even if his apology had been accepted. But he could—he needed the aftermath, craved for whatever was given due to this. He deserved it.
“Back to my chambers, love. We do still need to deal with this.”