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1
Kylo Ren. That wasn't even his real name. Who spends nine months in labor and names their kid Kylo? Hux hopes that the former never has children. God knows what ridiculous names he'll come up with. Then again, who would even agree to marry him, let alone have children with him? Not Hux.
It's early. The store is just waking up, and the lights flicker once, twice before their brightness fills the store. He watches Ren's figure retreat behind the counter, starting things up, turning on display lights. Hux joins him behind the counter, leans up against the order station. The soft 6 o'clock rays shine through the large windows at the front of the store, casting bright squares on the wood floors. The squares are suddenly interrupted by all-black Converse treading across them. Kylo's hair is messily pulled back as he fusses with the furniture, straightening chairs and pushing two-person tables flush against walls. Hux stares for a while. The man infuriates him—it was at least once a week when he would smash a blender or coffee pot with his hair-trigger rage. And yet, right now, as the world is waking up and the light that floods in from the windows is just bright enough to see the dust specks floating in the air, Kylo seems calm. It sends a warm feeling through his ribs, one he is familiar with through descriptions from other people but has never discovered for himself.
He turns and pulls the largest cup off of its stack.
2
"Why do you always show up so early?" It's 6 a.m. Kylo, without fail, is standing outside the door, rocking back and forth on his stupid various-black-sneaker-clad feet. Hux sometimes loathes being the manager for this reason: one-on-one time with Kylo in the morning makes him feel weird. Not bad, just...weird.
And, of course, getting up at 5:00 sometimes made him want to climb back down the career ladder as well.
"I don't sleep well," The man answers shortly, and just as Hux thinks they're done and starts to unlock the door, he continues talking. "I wake up in the middle of the night from nightmares a lot. Going back to sleep doesn't work, so I just get up and get ready."
Hux wills himself to answer with a simple "oh" or a "i'm sorry you have to deal with that", but his brain decides that one-on-one time was going to be happening. "That happens to me, too, sometimes."
Kylo looks up. Hux has never really looked him in the eyes before. Hux has actually never really looked at him before at all, which is probably why this heat rising on his face was so new to him. "Hm?"
Hux turns back to the door, finds the key. "Yeah. Usually it's sleep paralysis, that kind of stuff. Waking up feeling like someone's on your chest, like you've got hands around your neck, like you can't breathe," He opens the door and pushes it a bit dramatically. "I don't know. Maybe what you're talking about is different." He swallows and walks in. Kylo follows silently. He can feel him musing behind his back, turning over Hux's words and examining them. Kylo was that kind of person, Hux was sure.
Speaking of nightmares, he could already see the morning rush approaching the store. He grumbled to himself and put on a pot of coffee.
3
The bell above the door chimes just after morning rush. Hux looks up—muscle memory, he calls it, and not because Kylo wasn't outside when he came in today—and is relieved in a strange way when the aforementioned's lanky figure enters the shop. He's bundled up, black hood pulled over his head, looking paler and more tired than usual.
"One grande dark roast, please." He says, his voice hoarse, and he has the audacity to smile when Hux squints at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Buying coffee."
"You work here."
"Not at this moment."
Hux presses his lips together and writes "Kyle" on the cup.
"How's it going here without me?"
"That brings me to my question. Why," Hux snaps, pouring the black liquid into the paper cup with hard-earned precision, "Aren't you here working?"
"'m sick," Kylo mutters bluntly.
"Then why didn't you call in?"
"I did!" Ren sounds like a kid with missing homework, his voice cracking on the second word.
"You did not." Kylo pulls out his phone, and Hux feels his whole day brighten as he watches the confidence slip off of Kylo's face as he looks at his recent calls.
"Oh. I did not." He stuffs his phone back in his coat pocket. "Well, Hux," He takes the cup from his hands and Hux holds his breath (for some reason?) when their fingers come within millimeters of touching, "I will be out sick from work today." He puts three crumpled bills on the counter. "Keep the change. It's just coming back to me anyway." He winks and heads out the door.
"No it isn't!" Hux calls after him, flustered. He huffs once he hears the bell chime and turns to pour the rest of the dark roast for himself.
4
Hux is almost (almost) happy when he sees Kylo standing outside the shop again on Friday morning. He hears him bite down on a cough drop as he unlocks the shop, and turns to face him. "Are you sure you're okay to be working?" He asks, with maybe a bit too much worry in his voice.
"I'm fine," Kylo answers quickly, speaking around the lump in his cheek. "It was just a head cold."
Hux has never noticed until after Ren regained his voice how much he liked it. The smooth tone made even "nonfat double-blended peppermint frappuchino" called over the whirring of machines sound nice, and Hux would be lying if he said he hadn't missed it the past two days. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't missed Kylo in general—it was nice having someone to open the shop with.
Kylo fusses with the small wrapped cookies on the front counter, sorting them neatly by flavor. Hux would never understand why someone with such a penchant for apparently random destruction could be so obsessed with minor details. He turned and left Kylo to his work, pumping a shot of espresso into a tasting cup and downing it.
5
Hux is almost (almost) angry with himself. He refuses to believe that this man—this out of control mess he called a co-worker—had become his—
Crush didn't work anymore. That was left to his fifteen-year-old self. He was in his third year of college now, with a job.
Was it still called a crush? Oh God.
He watches Kylo from behind the counter as he starts up the first morning brew. He's once again organizing tables, features softened as he focuses on lining up a chair. It is very peaceful, Hux realizes, watching him work—he almost becomes a different person. Maybe he feels bad about the damage he's done during his fits of rage, Hux wonders, pouring himself a cup. Well, organizing tables isn't going to make up for two busted blenders, he thinks to himself bitterly. Still, something stirs in the back of his head.
Forgiveness?
Hux sips from his cup and watches Kylo work.
+1
"How can you drink that?"
"What?" Hux nearly scoffs at the man leans over the counter. Hux puts his cup down and leans back against the back counter, maybe to equalize the distance between them again. No one's been in the shop for a while but they don't close until another half hour, and they're passing the time until then with bursts of small talk between looking at their phones. It's dark outside, and the calm yellow glow of the lights in the shop make Hux sleepy.
"I'm just saying, plain black coffee is so...bitter." Kylo pauses, then chuckles. "It matches your personality."
Hux rolls his eyes and ultimately is unable to fight back a tiny grin that comes to his face. "At least I don't add fifteen sugar packets and no milk to it so it stays black but I'm able to stomach it."
"Hey," Kylo laughs (a wonderful sound) and walks around the counter. "Gotta keep up the aesthetic." He's in a good mood today. Hux likes this. He likes calm Kylo. (he likes kylo.)
"Tryhard teenager goth?"
"Exactly." Kylo says and he smiles, which is a beautiful sight because his eyes scrunch up and it brightens his whole face, and Hux suddenly for some reason wants to hug him. He jolts when Kylo leans against the back counter with him, puts an arm around his shoulders. Hux leans into his torso, pleasantly surprised to find he's not as bony as he expected. He takes a gamble, leans his head on Kylo's shoulder. In turn, Kylo rests his head on top of his, and Hux feels his whole body get warm. "I'm just saying, maybe if you didn't drink that stuff straight, you'd be a nicer person."
This time, Hux lets his coffee grow cold on the counter.