Chapter Text
As Hux walked down the hall, mentally reorganizing their weapons budget, he became vaguely aware that he was being watched.
It’s not like he wasn’t used to it at this point. Public scrutiny comes with the job. Usually, though, people at least had the decency to stare at him behind his back, to at least feign averting their eyes as he approached.
In the midst of the organized activity that was the Finalizer’s various human gears working as intended, there was a man.
He was blonde. He was wearing glasses, a repair worker’s uniform, and a bright orange vest. And he was staring, with no pretense of respect or subtlety, right at Hux.
He didn’t have any reason to be there, in that hallway. Hux knew this because he, quite literally, wrote the book that dictates the function of each person on this ship. There was no job, no errand, nothing this person could possibly be doing that would require him to be here, at this moment.
A lesser man might have yelled at him, right there in the hallway. A greater man might have ignored him completely.
Hux, who often found himself occupying a grey area, chose to stop and glare.
“Starstruck?” he asked.
The repairman looked shocked for a moment, like he hadn’t expected to have been noticed, let alone addressed. He recovered quickly.
“No,” said the repairman, with absolutely no hint of fear in his voice. “Sir,” he added, as an afterthought.
“You just remembered you have somewhere else to be, then? Some job to get back to, presumably?”
“Yes, sir.”
The quiet authority and confidence with which he spoke unsettled Hux.
Hux stared him down for a few seconds longer, just for good measure, before walking away.
“Get to it, then.”
---
Someone broke Hux’s commander’s chair the next day.
It was a real mystery.
“Honestly, Ren,” said Hux, rubbing his forehead. “If you want to get there faster, destroying the ship is counterproductive. Even to you, that should be obvious.”
Ren just stood there, in that ridiculous costume with that ridiculous helmet, and somehow managed to glower.
“I wouldn’t destroy anything essential. You’ll just have to stand, like the rest of us.”
Hux rolled his eyes with his entire face. “Take your petty vendettas elsewhere, Ren. I have a ship to command.”
He heard the sweep of Kylo Ren’s outfit more than his footsteps as he stormed off.
---
Hux wasn’t an expert on engines, but he was fairly sure that Engine Four was not supposed to be on fire.
Although, knowing how much the First Order loved theatrics, he wouldn’t be surprised.
“Can you fix it?” he asked, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve.
“Well,” began the Senior Engine Technician, nervously. “Yes. Almost definitely. We just need more time.”
“Is this going to significantly delay our arrival to Felucia?”
“Uh . . .” The Senior Engine Technician turned around. Several men ran around the engine, frantically spraying fire-suppressant and pressing buttons. There was a small explosion. Someone screamed.
He turned back to Hux. “There’s a . . . strong possibility.”
Hux felt a headache coming on.
“Fine. Okay. So, I’m just going to-”
There was a noise, a sort of cosmic, ashy slurp. The fire died completely, so suddenly that one of the repairmen fell over.
“Who did that?” the Senior Engine Technician screeched, which-talk about ungrateful, Hux thought privately.
“This guy!” called one of the repair supervisors. She walked up to them, dragging behind her-well, would you look at that.
“Sir. This is our new repair technician. I’m training him, but he fixed the problem all on his own. He-”
“You’re doing it again," interrupted Hux.
She looked at Hux, worried. “ . . . Me, sir?”
“No.” He looked at the repair technician. “You. You’re staring .”
And he was. The repair technician from last week, again, was staring blatantly at Hux. He didn’t flinch this time at being called out.
“Sorry, sir,” he said, with absolutely no hint of remorse in his voice.
They stared at each other for a moment.
The Senior Engine Technician cleared his throat.
Hux nodded.
“Right. If we’re all done here, I’m going to go to the officer’s club. You’re welcome to join me.”
“Well, sir. I can’t turn down a much needed drink.”
Hux turned to the repair technician, who had already started backing away. “You too.”
---
Form dictates that high-ranking officers only drink infrequently, and only for celebratory purposes.
Hux more or less agreed. His ship was significantly less on fire than it had been half an hour ago, which, as far as he was concerned, was reason to celebrate.
“Thanks for the drink, sir, but I’m going to have to turn in,” said the Senior Engine Technician, eventually.
“Of course. Good work today.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He left, leaving Hux alone with the repair technician.
If Hux had expected him to be impressed by the officer’s club, he would have been disappointed. The repair technician had taken the room in blankly, looking like he would rather not be here but wasn’t overly upset that he was, and remained completely silent.
And stared.
“You know,” said Hux, looking into his brandy. “If this is going to be a recurring thing, you can just take a picture.”
“I don’t need a picture.”
The repair technician stared into his untouched drink. He had a strange look on his face, like he was remembering an inside joke.
“Do you often take members of your crew out for drinks?”
Hux didn’t know why he didn’t call him out on his lack of respect. Maybe it was refreshing. Maybe he saw potential. Maybe he had just finally snapped.
“Sometimes. I like to reward good work.”
The repair technician gave him a look.
“You want your crew to like you, so they’ll be more loyal.”
That was really too far. Completely unacceptable. Hux smiled.
“You’re clever. What’s your name?”
“Matt.”
“Did you really fix the engine? All on your own? You won’t be in trouble if you say no.”
“I did.”
Hux nodded, impressed.
“Well, it’s nice that someone on the ship knows what they’re doing.”
---
Kylo Ren had no idea what he was doing.
He fumbled with the console, trying desperately to acquire years of experience and technical training with engines by, he didn’t know, osmosis, possibly.
His “supervisor,” which he couldn’t believe he was calling her unironically, stood behind him.
“You should know how to do this. It’s an electrical fire in Engine Four. This was in your training,” she said.
Except it wasn’t, because he hadn’t been trained, because this whole undercover thing had just started last week.
It had been Snoke’s idea, kind of.
“You are using your appearance as a crutch. You do not understand how the populace interacts, only that they tremble in fear when they see your mask. Take off the mask and learn with the people, not as Kylo Ren, but as one of them, so that you may learn to better manipulate them in the future.”
Kylo had creatively interpreted this to mean, “Go undercover as a crew member and try not to get caught.”
Which, easier said than done.
There was an explosion.
Engine Four was really, truly, completely, losing its shit. The monitor in front of him flashed red. As a last-ditch effort, he closed his eyes, placed his hands on the console, and tried to connect with the Force.
He felt the hum of the console, the wires that connected it to the engine, the electricity that connected everything to everything else on the ship, and then he understood , and then he stopped the fire.
---
Kylo Ren was quiet that day.
This was especially apparent to Hux, as they usually spent their time waiting outside Snoke’s chamber throwing insults back and forth.
“What’s wrong, Ren? Worried? You shouldn’t be. Your plan is terrible, but they’re always terrible. I'm sure Snoke's learned to keep his expectations low by now.”
Kylo turned to him and said nothing, which was really very unusual. It was generally easy to annoy Kylo Ren.
“What do you think of the crew?” Ren asked, suddenly.
Hux frowned. “I . . . what an odd question.”
“Do you consider them your friends?”
“They are my allies, certainly. Our allies, may I add. As in, don’t kill them.”
“Do they . . . hold any value, to you? As individuals?”
Hux sighed. “Of course not.”
---
General Hux called repair technician Matt’s supervisor to his office.
“Matt? He’s . . . interesting,” she said. “Honestly sir, at first I thought he was completely useless. But ever since that fire, he’s been, well, less bad. Odd, often goes against regulation, but he gets the job done, sir. Most of the time.”
Hux nodded. “Sounds about right. Would you send him in?”
---
Matt the repair technician regarded Hux curiously.
“In light of your help with last week’s engine problems, I’d like to offer you a promotion, effective immediately. Your new position would be-”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m going to have to decline.”
That threw Hux off.
“You’re . . . what? Are you sure?”
“Completely, sir.”
Hux stared at him for a moment. He didn’t even look slightly tempted by the offer. He just . . . stood there. Staring.
Hux couldn’t identify with that lack of ambition.
“Well,” said Hux, finally. “If you’re sure. I suppose I’ll give you the champagne anyway.”
Matt gave him an odd look, like he was trying to figure something out.
“Do you have cups?”
---
Matt was sweet, Hux decided definitively, halfway through the champagne. He clutched his cup and watched Hux, looking tentative less in the face of Hux’s power and more in the face of any sort of human interaction.
“So is it stressful? Being a General?” he asked, softly.
“You have no idea,” said Hux. “Is it stressful being a repair technician?”
“Sometimes.”
“See, that’s the difference. My job is stressful always .”
“You know, you’re different than I imagined,” said Matt, almost smiling into his cup.
“Am I? Did you expect me to drink blood, kill babies?”
“No. I expected . . . I didn’t think you’d be so . . . empathetic.”
“You thought I was an asshole.”
“Your words, not mine.”
Hux shrugged and poured himself more champagne. “People will think what they will. I’m just trying to do my job while maintaining some semblance of sanity.”
“The crew, you know . . . they really like you. I didn’t expect that, either.”
Matt was blushing, which made his freckles more pronounced. Hux looked down into his champagne before that train of thought could get any further.
“Well, I’m glad.” Hux raised his glass. “To the crew.”
“To the crew.”
---
Matt excused himself around midnight.
Hux was genuinely surprised to find both that he’d talked to him for several hours, and that he was very sad to see him go.
One or both of those may have been caused by the champagne.
“Come back any time,” said Hux, looking him in the eye. “Really.”
Matt blushed.
---
Kylo Ren was nowhere to be found the next day, which was good because Hux was otherwise preoccupied.
It was stupid, he knew. It didn’t even make sense. It was illogical.
Hux knew this, and yet when the bridge’s holoscreen projector broke, he was still disappointed when repair technician Katie showed up to fix it.
---
Matt the repair technician didn’t come by that night, but he did come by the night after that, and twice the next week, and pretty soon Hux just started keeping two cups in the top of his desk drawer.
---
No one had expected the Resistance to mount a direct attack on the Finalizer, and it rather caught them off guard.
Hux was power-walking to the hangars (running is for poor people) when someone pulled him into a supply closet.
“What-oh,” he said, as Matt the repair technician put a finger to his mouth and pointed to the door.
Hux peeked out through the window. Two resistance soldiers, armed with guns, walked through the hallway.
He pulled out his gun, but Matt grabbed his hand. It was hard to take him seriously, in that ridiculous outfit.
“Wait here. Don’t move.”
“I’m flattered that you’re willing to die for the cause but-”
“Idiot. Just wait here,” he said, and something in his voice made Hux nod.
Matt looked at him, fleetingly.
“Promise me.”
“I . . . fine.”
Matt looked at him once more before turning to leave.
“Wait.”
He turned.
Hux kissed him, once, briefly.
“Be careful."
He glanced at Matt's face. He was smiling at him. He had a nice smile.
There was noise from outside.
"Don't move," he said, and left.
---
There were noises from outside the supply closet.
Hux had promised, but he was so tempted just to look. Just to make sure.
Right at that moment, the door opened. It was Matt, breathing heavily.
“Come on.”
They stepped over two bodies ran down the hall. The ship was chaos, at this point. Only one Resistance ship had managed to land, but its crew was raising as much hell as possible. Hux was already dreading the reorganization process.
They turned a corner and stopped.
“Hi there,” said a Resistance soldier, holding a very large gun. “You look important.”
He fired.
Hux closed his eyes, waiting for the moment of impact (he’d always wondered what it felt like to be shot but was, oddly enough, not looking forward to finding out). It never came.
“What the fuck?” said the Resistance soldier.
Hux opened his eyes.
The laser blast hung in midair, frozen, in front of him.
He turned.
Matt stood, hand outstretched. While it was obvious he was the one stopping the laser, he wasn’t even looking at it. Instead, he was staring at Hux-sadly, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Um,” said the Resistance soldier.
Matt glared at him and did something with his hand. There was a sort of squelching noise, and then a scream, and then a thud.
Hux didn’t even look. He was still staring at Matt.
“Oh,” Hux said, finally. “Oh. Oh . You complete, utter, asshole .”
Matt-Kylo-whatever, chased after him as he stormed off. “Hux, wait.”
“Why? So you can, I don’t know, practice your evil Sith deception skills on me?”
“I wasn’t-none of that was a lie, Hux.”
“None of it? Sorry, no one ever told me your full name was Kylo Matt Ren, or that you were trained in radar repairs for seven years.”
“Hux.”
“Crazy how you fit that in, with your becoming a Knight of Ren at the same time and all. Great multitasking, I’d imagine. I’d-”
Kylo grabbed his arm and Hux turned around to continue yelling at him, but found that he couldn’t because Kylo was kissing him.
Kylo pulled away after a moment, breathless. He still looked terrified.
“Can we . . . later?”
An alarm went off somewhere. Hux sighed. He tried not to look like he'd already been won over (he had).
“Fine. Later.”
---
LATER
---
They sat in Hux’s office, silently.
“Well,” said Hux, finally. “This is a mess.”
Without his repair technician disguise, Kylo looked different. Better, was a word he might use. Attractive, even.
He was staring at the floor.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
Hux sighed.
“I suppose not. Not really.”
Without meeting his eye, Kylo nodded, once. He stood up, straightened his ridiculous black robe, and turned to leave.
Hux waited until he was halfway out the door.
“Same time next week?”
Kylo froze. He turned around and flashed Hux a shy smile.
“Yes.”