Work Text:
i. we woke up
Kylo wakes up in the middle of the night.
Taking a deep breath, he blinks up at the ceiling with aching eyes, distantly wondering what disturbed him. The room is bathed in the dim, half-light of early morning, the streetlights drawing orange shapes on the far wall.
Too kriffing early to be up on a Sunday.
Hux is still sound asleep next to him. A car passes, the headlights illuminating the room enough for Kylo to see the lines of his face for a moment: smooth and relaxed, the way they rarely are while his high-strung husband is awake.
The urge to reach out and run his touch over the long lines of Hux’s hands, to feel the skin-warmed metal on his finger grips Kylo. It’s not insecurity; Hux headed off half-joking remarks about Hux eventually taking the ring off so swiftly that Kylo doesn’t carry more than the passing, baseless worry brought by the occasional bad brain day. He just enjoys the physical reminder that Hux is his.
Hux’s alarm goes off, startling Kylo. Unlike the groggy, half-hearted way Kylo wakes, Hux commits to it: When he opens his eyes and reaches to turn his alarm off, he’s ready to take on the day ahead.
Scratching his stubble, Hux looks over to Kylo, finding him already watching. “Good morning, you creep.”
Kylo smiles, rising on an elbow. Brushing a strand away from Hux’s eyes, “Mornin’,” he mumbles, leaning over to kiss Hux.
“Ugh, morning breath,” Hux grumbles, but he’s smiling, too.
ii. you made me caf
The next time Kylo wakes, the room is finally bright with the morning light. Hux’s table clock reads half past nine.
He rolls onto his back, running a hand down his face. His body feels anchored to the bed, the caked warmth of the room weighing his eyelids down. Part of him wants to press his face on the cold side of the pillow and ignore the world for a few more hours. He might have, maybe, if the other side of the bed weren’t despicably empty.
The bitter scent of caf filtering in through the ajar door helps with the decision, too.
Stepping into yesterday’s shorts, Kylo shuffles to the kitchen, where Hux is making himself his nth cup of tarine tea as the caf machine drips Kylo’s java into the pot. Hux’s favorite coaster sits next to his book on the kitchen island, the bookmark sticking out somewhere near the end.
“Hello, sleepyhead,” Hux says without turning, mixing low-fat milk into his tea with the preciseness of a surgeon.
Not ready to be awake yet, Kylo grunts in response, grabbing the A/C remote off the caf table before dropping himself on the couch. He sets the temperature as low as Hux can stand—which isn’t much, but it’s infinitely better than getting cooked in the summer heat that’s seeping in through their south-facing windows.
Hux comes over with a big mug and a coaster, placing the latter on the caf table. Keeping the caf hostage, he extends his cheek, awaiting his payment of a kiss first. Kylo is more than happy to give it.
Satisfied, Hux surrenders the mug and returns to his book. The A/C kicks in in full force, blasting cool air right onto Kylo’s heated skin.
It’s perfect.
iii. I passed you by on my way to the kitchen
They have different ideas of how a Sunday works.
For Kylo, it’s time to finally leave the workweek behind and enjoy himself. He likes to curl on the couch with Hux and watch a movie, go out for a late lunch, take evening walks without his phone. Hux, on the other hand, sees it as an opportunity to prepare for the next week; he takes up laundry and deep-cleaning, while Kylo is tasked with cooking meals to re-heat for dinner over the next week and ironing.
Kylo manages to postpone the inevitable until the third time Hux reminds him of it, the thin line of Hux’s mouth promising hell if Kylo doesn’t get on with it already. Kylo dutifully closes the lid of his laptop and heads to the kitchen, pausing to drop a peck on Hux’s lips in apology.
“Don’t think you’re forgiven,” Hux says after him, his tone already softer.
iv. you passed by while going to the shower
Once done with the cleaning, “I’m going to take a shower,” Hux announces, going through the folded pile of newly pressed clothes. Putting the flat iron aside, Kylo helps him find a shirt and the pair of khaki shorts that make Hux’s thighs look sinful, wrapping an arm around his waist to show how much he appreciates the choice already.
“Kylo, I’m reeking,” Hux complains, batting a hand at him. Kylo puts a wet kiss on that spot under his ear before letting him go.
Hux shakes his head in disapproval, but his look is fond.
v. you were gaming and didn’t hear me sneak up on you
Long after the shower turned off, Hux still hasn’t come back to the living room.
Kylo finds him at the study, hunched over his cherished desktop with Kylo’s sound-cancelling headphones on. Perfect. Seizing the opportunity, Kylo tiptoes into the room until he’s right behind Hux, grabbing him by the shoulders.
Hux jumps with a loud curse, the mouse tumbling off the desk as he rips the headphones off. The look he pins Kylo with over his work glasses is almost funnier than the reaction, though Kylo keeps his laughter in check. Hux is nothing if not vindictive.
“Sorry,” Kylo says with an apologetic half-grin, kissing the top of Hux’s head to appease him. On the screen, that city building game of Hux’s is on, snowy plains and mountains interspersed with black and gray buildings stretching on and on. “Still working on Starkiller Base?”
Hux grunts in affirmative, bending to pick up the mouse. A few clicks take care of whatever Kylo messed up; Hux switches to the live view afterwards, watching the flow of movement in different parts of the map.
A month ago, the base was a big, almost brutalist complex seated in the middle of vast whiteness, most of the structures placed underneath a dome until Hux built proper snow protection—or so Hux explained while giving Kylo the grand tour. It looks more like a military base now: Pairs of white-clad soldiers stomp through long, well-lit hallways in rhythm while spaceships with hexagonal wings circle around, black shuttles whizzing around underneath them.
Hux switches back to build mode, scrolling to the edge of the base, where a large watercourse—that might be a stream or river; Kylo can’t make sense of the scaling in this game—circles a white building with red, blinking lights at the top.
“What’s that?” Kylo asks, pointing at the building. Admittedly, it looks about the same as most others to him, but it seems like something Hux might be excited to talk about.
Hux pushes the glasses higher, giving him a sidelong glance. “A fusion power plant,” he says gruffly, deleting some of the pipeline between the plant and the body of water. “I thought one of these would be enough to power the entire base, but the upgraded stations are draining all the electricity. I’m trying to see how many more plants I can build without having a drought problem.”
Kylo hums, leaning in to get a closer look. Hux breaks into an explanation on how the plant works, outlining the current infrastructure at large and his next plans for the base, scrolling around the map where needed. Kylo watches the way Hux’s hands dance on the keyboard, the glint in his eyes and falls in love all over again.
vi. I was bored
Money never sleeps; neither does First Order Inc., apparently.
“I’m so sorry,” Hux says for the hundredth time as Kylo brings him a new cup of caf—which by itself speaks for the direness of whatever task Snoke just dropped into his lap. “I didn’t know it would take this long.”
Kylo doesn’t say it’s okay, because it’s not. They could’ve finished season 3 in the time Hux sunk into work, and it doesn’t look like he will be done anytime soon. It isn’t Hux’s fault though, so he says, “I know what Snoke’s like, too,” instead. Transferring to Resistance HQ was his second-best decision in life.
While Hux works, Kylo busies himself with his phone, scrolling through the holonet and catching up on the latest news that he doesn’t give a damn about. Daytime TV is as shitty as it’s always been, and he’s not stupid enough to Netflix-cheat in front of Hux, so he runs out of things to do within the next hour.
Hux’s eyes are fixated on his screen, his mechanical keyboard clack-clack-clacking rapidly. “Are you almost finished?” Kylo asks, dropping his phone on the caf table. Hux jerks his head up, blinking at him owlishly. “You’ve been at it for a while. Will you be done soon?”
Hux’s lips twist in remorse. “I’m really sorry.”
Kylo sighs, pushing off the couch. Circling around the kitchen island, he towers over Hux, crossing his arms. A plethora of spreadsheets decorate Hux’s screen, all split in multiple ways.
“Why don’t you take a break,” he says, less a suggestion than a veiled threat. “You’ve been sitting there for hours; you need to get your blood back in your head.”
“I don’t want to lose my momentum,” Hux mutters, adding several closed parentheses at the end of a formula. Another moment and he’s practically forgotten that Kylo is still standing there.
Kylo scoffs, giving him a hard stare. Hux doesn’t even look his way, buried in his color-coded columns and rows.
Fine.
Kylo puts a hand on Hux’s arm, stepping smoothly behind him. Sliding both hands to Hux’s shoulders, he presses his thumbs into the tight muscle below Hux’s neck, dragging a half-pain, half-pleasure grunt out of him.
Brushing a light kiss over the short hair on Hux’s nape, “Take a break,” Kylo says, lowering his tone to the timbre that Hux enjoys. Hux doesn’t shiver as Kylo hoped, but at least the clattering of the keyboard stopped. “Snoke has you six days of the week. Spend one with me.”
Hux snorts. “You mean on you. Are you that bored?”
“Out of my damn mind,” Kylo admits easily. “Seriously, Snoke won’t even remember that report until mid-week. The great FO won’t fall because you didn’t send one file early. You’ve done enough, you can finish it tomorrow.”
Hux drums his fingers on the island, silent as he thinks it over. Kylo encourages him by massaging the base of his neck, the area between his shoulder blades, skimming around his ribs to graze his sweet spots.
“Give me one hour,” Hux says, sounding for all the world like it’s taking him great pains to capitulate. Kylo hides his grin in the crook of Hux’s neck. “Either it’ll get done by then or I’ll be done with it.”
vii. I was tired
The evening falls, the oppressive heat giving way to a gentle warmth in the air. With 47 minutes to go on Hux’s countdown, Kylo decides to stretch his legs for a bit.
A walk around the block turns into a casual jog, then a run until the discomfort of having gone rusty gives way to a quiet head and the feeling of being on top of the world. He almost doesn’t want to stop and get back home, but home is where Hux is and he will always go back to Hux.
He walks the way back, taking the scenic route to cool off a little. When he walks inside, he finds Hux lying on the couch with a new book, still wearing the glasses.
The couch is big enough for two; they tested it. Multiple times. Still, Kylo drapes himself all over Hux instead, throwing an arm and leg over him.
“Kylo,” Hux grumbles, rescuing his book from under Kylo. He hits Kylo on the hip with it. “I’ve just cleaned the sofa.”
“Too tired to shower,” Kylo lies into Hux’s shoulder, turning his face to kiss Hux’s collarbone. For all that Hux seems made up of sharp edges, he’s unexpectedly comfortable to rest on. Kylo doesn’t feel like letting go of him just yet.
Putting his book in the empty space by them, Hux reaches down to grope Kylo’s ass, dipping a hand between his legs and back up. Tease. Kylo raises his hips with an impatient hum. Between the bliss still running in his system and the smoky, woodsy scent of Hux’s cologne in his nose, it won’t take much to get him going.
A hard pinch to his thigh makes Kylo yelp. “Hux!” he hisses, rising on his elbows to glare at him.
Hux grins up at him smugly. “You’re clearly not too tired,” he says, batting Kylo on the hip again. “Now go and wash up. If you’re fast enough, we may even continue this.”
viii. I was happy
Too lazy to set the table, they eat on trays in front of the TV.
Hux is an objectively horrible person to watch things with. He has the unique ability to find something to hate in everything he lays eyes on; his scathing, running commentary often drowns out whatever is playing. Not even the things he loves are safe from his sharp tongue.
Still, Kylo loves these calm moments with Hux more than anything: sitting nearly pressed up even though there’s space, bantering through the slower scenes, rewinding the important ones until they’ve pointed out every little detail to each other. Now that Kylo’s experienced this, he can never go back to being a passive audience.
The show ends—exactly where it shouldn’t. They speculate on the loose ends through the dishwashing routine, picking holes in each other’s theories until it becomes a debate, each defending their point with zeal and dish soap bubbles. By the time they agree to disagree, they both got their fair share of suds all over them, their sides aching from laughter.
It dawns on Kylo, how empty his life had felt before Hux. It still feels like a dream, sometimes: something that may slip through his fingers like sand if he opens his eyes. Ben had never imagined that he could be loved with the focused, intense way Hux loves Kylo—never thought he could love someone so fiercely, either. How in the world did he get so lucky?
His heart too big for his chest, he takes Hux’s ring hand in his, kissing the inside of his wrist. Hux’s soft smile lights up Kylo’s insides.
ix. you were there
Leia calls to ask what they’re going to bring to the Life Day dinner.
Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Mom, it’s August,” he points out, suppressing his scoff. “We barely know what we’re gonna eat next week.”
“There were too many potato dishes last year,” Leia says evenly, unmoved. “I need to make sure this year’s spread will be more balanced.”
The front door clicks open, closing just as quietly. Throwing the phone on the bed by his ear, Kylo listens to the routine sounds of Hux putting away his shoes and bags instead. Call him clingy; knowing that Hux is home with him, even if they aren’t in the same room, comforts Kylo.
A moment later, Hux steps in, two mini-cups of ice cream in hand. The best husband in the universe, hands down. Hux extends a cup and a spoon to him, nodding at the phone in question.
Kill me, Kylo mouths, sitting upright to take the ice cream. Leia is still chattering on the other end of the line, something about acorn squash and broccoli. Kylo puts her on speaker to make Hux share his suffering.
“I told Poe to bring the pecan pie,” Leia continues, clearly not minding Kylo’s lack of reply. Hux sits down next to him, digging into his own cup. “Rey wanted to make it again, but—between us, of course—she can never get the crust right, so she and Phasma will bring garlic bread instead. Armitage’s focaccia is straight out of heaven, but I don’t want to load up on bread. You’ll need to choose something else, I’m afraid.”
Licking his spoon clean, “Hello, Leia,” Hux says. “We were planning to bring, um, blue milk biscuits and green bean casserole. Is that all right?”
“Of course, Armitage,” Leia responds, the warmth of her tone increasing a few degrees. If she’s surprised to hear Hux’s voice, she doesn’t let on. “That would be great.”
“Wonderful,” Hux says, feigning cheer. “Now, you must have many people to call yet; we oughtn’t keep you any longer. I’m sure Kylo will catch up with you at a better time.”
Kylo will do nothing of the sort.
Once they say their farewells and hang up, Kylo releases a long breath. Conversations with his mother always take something out of him, no matter the subject. Hells if he knows how he got through them before Hux came along.
He reaches for Hux’s forearm, squeezing it in a silent thanks. It’s the easiest thing in the world to drag his hand up Hux’s arm, shoulder, neck and to cup his jaw, pulling him down for a kiss.
Hux tastes of strawberries and chocolate. Kylo can’t get enough of it.
x. no reason at all
Like every good thing in life, Sunday ends.
Kylo putters around the apartment until he has no chance but to slink into the bedroom. An unnecessary and unneeded part of his routine, the if I sleep, it’ll be a workday morning dread that starts creeping up as soon as it gets dark. It’s not even that he hates his job; he just loathes the end of his free time.
Hux is already in bed, probably finishing up his weekly review and preview like the freak he is. He puts the phone aside when Kylo enters, waiting for Kylo with his hands folded on his stomach.
For a moment, all Kylo can do is stop and stare, his breath catching in his lungs. With his lightly tousled hair bright against the bedding and his dainty ankles casually crossed, Hux is a sight to see. No one has a right to look that good in sleepwear, much less the feared CTO of First Order.
Kylo crosses the room in three steps, climbing onto Hux’s side of the bed and crawling over him. Supporting himself on one elbow, he leans down and kisses Hux deeply; Hux opens up for him without skipping a beat, pulling Kylo even closer.
Once they part, “What was that for?” Hux asks, running the backs of two fingers down Kylo’s face with an amused slant to his lips.
Kylo shrugs. “No reason at all.”