Work Text:
An Acquired Taste
“He scares me, Han. I love him so much, but he scares me.”
“I know. Scares me, too.”
“What are we gonna do?”
“Buy a new table? This one's done for. Window needs a little help, too.” A tentative and short-lived laugh followed.
“You know what I mean.” Her voice sounded so sad.
“He's our son, just gotta do the best we can. It's all we can do.”
Eight year old Ben Solo sat with his back to the door of his bedroom. He had since calmed down but his eyes were still wet with the tears that kept traitorously leaking out, his face still flushed from earlier. He hadn't meant to get so angry, really. But the parts on the tiny model ship were small and his hands wouldn't do what his mind wanted them to, and even as he balled his fists up and slammed them against the table in frustration, the little X-wing had shot across the room and was dashed into pieces against the wall. After that, the only thing he could remember was the white hot rage that seemed to burn through his whole body, and how he had screamed until his lips felt numb. He'd felt helpless at the look on his mother's face, and how he could also feel her fear of him. His father had rushed in at the sound of his screaming, shouting stern admonitions in his direction that had only fueled his anger. He vaguely remembered pointing at the pieces of his model on the floor, now beyond repair.
“You said you were going to help me!”
“I WAS, Ben!”
“No! No, you weren't, you always just say that!”
His voice had grown louder and angrier with every word, and he had only stopped when startled by the loud crack that preceded the marble dining room table splitting in two and crashing to the floor and a fresh crack appearing in the kitchen window. Hot tears had flowed freely from his eyes when he realized what he'd done, and then he looked back towards his parents and froze; he had never seen that look on his father's face before and it made him feel as if his whole world was spinning out of control and also that it was entirely his fault. Han Solo looked afraid. It was always bad enough having to see that expression on his mother, but this was too much. He'd bolted to his room and closed the door behind him, bawling until he was exhausted, and was now listening to their hushed conversation. He hated it when they talked in those tones; it usually meant they were talking about him. He'd rather not listen at all, but he could never help overhearing anyways. His eyes widened at the pieces he was catching just now, his mother's voice was low and solemn.
“ . . . offered to take him . . . needs to go.”
“Leia, there's no need to send him away. I'll just spend more time with him.”
“I don't even care about the table or the window, those can be replaced. But what if that's one of us next time?”
Ben couldn't stand it no longer; he got to his feet and raced out of his room straight towards where they sat together in an overlarge chair.
“No!”
He threw himself into the chair, burrowing between the two of them and flinging both arms out, trying to hug both of them at once, sobbing anew. “Please, please don't give me away. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry!” He peered up at them, lips swollen, black curls sticking to his wet face. “I'm sorry I scare you! I don't wanna hurt anybody, I'd never hurt you. Either of you!” He felt Leia's soothing hand on his back as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head.
“Oh, Ben, sweetie, we'd never give you away.”
“You said I needed to go, you want to get rid of me,” he shuddered.
“No, no it's not like that at all. Your Uncle Luke just wants you to come and live with him for a while. He can teach you how to not be so angry, how to channel that power to do good instead of destroying things. You can be a Jedi, like him.”
Ben sniffled, pulling away from her. “I don't wanna be a Jedi.” He put his arms around Han's neck. “I wanna be a pilot.” Han ruffled his hair.
“Luke's a damn good pilot, kid. You can be both, too.”
Ben glanced up at him, just on the edge of protesting that he'd rather have Han continue teaching him to fly, but the look on his father's face already held the answer. The smile was reassuring, but Ben could still see the fear from earlier lingering behind it. He bit his lip, looking away from his parents' gaze and resting his head on Han's chest, feeling defeated, afraid, and despite the company, very much alone. It wasn't that he disliked or feared his uncle; he was actually quite fond of Luke, even if he was a little strange, but he felt safest with the two people he was now nestled between. Although it was some time after that that he would actually leave to begin his training, with little more than the clothes on his back, it was that day that he realized that the people he loved the most wouldn't feel safe until he was far away.
More than twenty years later, Kylo Ren wandered aimlessly, lost in thought, down rows of ships discarded from no longer being needed or in various states of disrepair, trying to suppress the memory of those moments from his childhood; they had been particularly prominent in his mind this day, for some reason. His aspirations of piloting had long since been cast away, along with his old name, but there was still something oddly comforting about being in the company of the old freighters and fighters and even the odd X-wing now and then. He reached out and ran a hand along the body of one of the stolen Resistance crafts and was suddenly reminded once more of the model whipping across his mother's kitchen. A metallic thunk echoed through hangar 27-B as he lightly struck it with the side of his fist before quickening his pace. Unable to achieve the peaceful state of mind that usually came to him when he visited here, he pulled up his hood and made to leave, his breath rising in white puffs before him. He had nearly reached the point where strips of blueish moonlight streamed in through the doors where he had left them slightly ajar when something caught his eye; a squarish cruiser of a smaller size, but sleek and shiny and . . .
“Utterly useless,” he called out, as if it could hear him.
“Not when used for it's intended purpose,” a voice replied. Hux stepped into view from the other side of the ship where he'd been hidden from view. “I'm sure it's a perfectly good vessel for leisurely trips to planets with lots of beaches or valleys or similar nonsense. Just because it failed us that once doesn't mean it's completely of no use, we merely overtaxed it in our haste.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Don't look at me like that, surely you had at least some inkling that you weren't in here alone. I'm taking inventory.” He glanced up at the cruiser, traces of fondness in his eyes that would have gone unnoticed by anyone else.
Kylo narrowed his eyes. “You're out here doing inventory on garbage and old relics, in the middle of the night. Don't you have a whole base to command, a weapon to build?”
“Well since it's garbage I suppose I shouldn't be surprised I found you here. Or are you a relic? A reminder of bygone times and traditions long since crushed out by the boot of the First Order. ”
“Tread carefully, General. I'm in no mood for your impudence.”
“If I based my behavior on the moods of others, I'd never accomplish anything.”
Kylo lifted his hand and the doors slammed shut behind them, closing out the moonlight and leaving them in almost total blackness, only bleak little wisps of light coming in from the sparse vents high up near the ceiling.
“If you mean to intimidate me with the darkness, Ren, you'll be sorely disappointed.” His eyes glinted a calm and poisonous blue in the weak light. “We've had this conversation before, or one similar.”
There was a moment's pause, followed by a loud creak and a snap; Hux felt a rush of air as something large went rushing past, dangerously close to his head before it went clattering violently to a stop on the concrete floor behind him. He flinched almost imperceptibly. Yet another, less violent creak told him that the hatch of the cruiser had been forced open; heavy footfalls tromped up the ramp and faded away. The power flickered to life and bright, unnatural light streamed from within. He strode calmly upwards himself, head bowed and hands behind his back. He found Ren sitting in the pilot's chair, swiveling slowly this way and that, brows knit tightly and lips almost in a pout. Dark eyes shot up to meet his.
“Leave me.”
“What are you doing?” Hux asked sternly.
“I could ask you the same. We both know you're above traipsing all the way out here in the freezing cold to inventory. A droid could do it. Although with your personality, it's hard to tell the difference. Something's bothering you.”
“You're projecting.”
“I'm not wrong and we both know it.” Hux said nothing, staring at him impassively. A look of bitter satisfaction came over Ren's face. “So,” he said softly. “There's more than one way to get you to shut up.” He smiled at the slight twitch of the General's lip, the way a sneer came over him for a quick beat before he pushed his face back into stony submission.
“Do I amuse you, Ren?”
“Now who's projecting?” Ren stood to his feet, now toe to toe with Hux in the cramped cockpit. “But do you amuse me? Indubitably. It's why I haven't simply locked you out or incapacitated you. I think it's also why you haven't left me alone like I told you to. I think you came out here hoping to find me.”
Hux shook his head, smiling cynically. “The only way I'd hope to find you is frozen to death in the snow. You're delusional again, and you're not even drunk this time. Pathetic.”
“Prove me wrong, then. Leave, right now.”
“I don't take orders from you.”
“I'm not giving you an order, I'm giving you an ultimatum.”
“Oh, really? And if I don't give in to your demands that I go, then what?” He felt a large hand on his shoulder, the other reaching out to cup his face. “Ren, no,” he whispered. “It was one time, we drank too much. We can't make habits of such things.”
“Then leave. Last chance.”
“No.”
Kylo smiled darkly at the sight of Hux before him, eyes half closed and mouth already tilted to meet his before he closed the space between them. It was almost unnervingly gentle, given their tumultuous working relationship, their mouths simply opening and closing together, unhurried, as if they had all of the time in the world before them, Hux's face cradled almost reverently in Kylo's hands. Kylo pulled away, turning Hux around so that his back was against him, arms wrapped tightly around him from behind. “Someday you'll stop denying that you want this,” he murmured, nuzzling against his head and knocking his hat slightly askew.
Hux could only exhale shakily, bringing his hands up to squeeze Ren's where they clasped at his chest. He felt himself guided backwards; Kylo sat in the pilot's chair once more, his hands slipping down to Hux's waist, drawing him irresistibly into his lap. It took all of his willpower not to squirm at the feeling of that mouth nipping and licking at his ear and jaw, the impossibly big hand tilting his head so his lips could be claimed again. When he felt a finger tugging at his collar, he muffled useless protests against Ren's mouth, and only when he had bitten down hard on his lower lip did the other man stop and pull away, hissing in pain and smiling deviously.
“You can relax, I'm not going to tear your stupid uniform. I just want to hear those noises out of you again.” He made to resume his clumsy attempts at undoing the fastenings, but Hux's hand shot up and grabbed his.
“Ren, not here! It's freezing.”
“Didn't say I was gonna strip you naked and have my way with you on the console,” he tried wriggling his hand free. “Just a little . . .” he froze, sighing at the warning on Hux's face. His smile faded. “You really want me to stop.”
“Yes, I really want you to stop. Contrary to what you think, I don't actually just talk to hear myself.”
Kylo's hands, as well as his expression, went lax as Hux slipped free of his grasp and got to his feet, straightening his hat and turning the collar of his coat up. Why couldn't he have stayed, just a few more minutes, or left when he had the chance, before they'd gotten caught up in momentary foolish bliss that he found he didn't want to end now? He sat there dumbly, watching as the General cut the power off and the lights dimmed, before he walking briskly towards the exit. 'He needs to escape from me, just like everyone else . . .' He was startled from his melancholy only moments later when he heard the footsteps returning, Hux staring at him with a look both quizzical and slightly aggravated.
“Are you coming, or not?”
The realization on Ren's face was almost enough to make Hux laugh.
“Come . . . with you?”
“Again, yes. I told you, it's freezing here. Perfectly warm in my quarters and it's going to waste while you sit out here and feel sorry for yourself for whatever reason. One one condition,” he added as Ren headed for the exit with him, the hints of a rare playful smile tugging on one side of his mouth. He nodded in the direction of the den. “Go get that Chandrilian.”
The wind had picked up by the time they left the hangar, and Hux quickly pulled a pair of goggles from his pocket, glancing back at Ren as he put them on to stop his eyes stinging from the bitter cold as he trotted to a parked snow speeder. “Where's your transport? Gods, did you walk?” he asked incredulously when no response came. “Get in! Idiot.” They both pulled themselves up into the speeder, the engine humming to life from a few touches of Hux's hand. He glanced at Ren for a quick moment, wondering what the hell he was even thinking, again, before accelerating and sending the speeder screaming back towards base. Towards home. Or at least, the closest thing to a home that either of them had ever had.
Kylo was silently mouthing the the headline of the holonet article that hovered above the desk in Hux's quarters to himself, 'Pets and stress relief. Can pets make you happy?' The projection suddenly flicked off and he found Hux staring at him in quiet annoyance. He'd shed the cumbersome top half of the uniform and was now in a simple white button down shirt that he had only bothered to fasten halfway up, and was barefooted.
“You continue to be tactlessly presumptuous, Ren.”
“You said to make myself comfortable.”
“I meant take your boots off, have a seat, that sort of thing, not go poking around into my private things to amuse yourself.”
“Well it's not like you had it hidden away.”
“Forgive me for not being secretive in my own living quarters. I didn't realize I'd be bringing you home with me tonight.”
“Oh, but I think you did. You went out there tonight, looking for me, lurking around that rubbish cruiser because of what you remember doing there, or not doing. The one time in years that you felt like a normal man, like the weight of the galaxy wasn't crushing down on you.”
“Speak for yourself, there was a good deal of weight crushing down on me and it was you, in that ship, lying on that sofa, clinging to me like a life preserver because I'm the only person in this wide world who isn't weak or stupid enough to be terrified of you. Neither of us are normal men. That's why you tried shutting us both in darkness and throwing shrapnel at my head, isn't it? You needed to be sure, to test me just one more time, to see if you could get to me the way you do everyone else. And because I didn't wince, well . . . you're here.” Ren remained silent, but it was clear that Hux's words had undone him, if only a little bit. “It seems as if both of us have things we are in denial over.”
Kylo blinked obtusely before walking to the dresser and reaching for Hux's hat, snugging it over his own head. He picked up a glass, already holding a modest measure of the Chandrilian and taking a small, noisy sip of it, thoughtfully watching his own reflection in the mirror.
“What in Hell's name are you doing?” Hux asked, a little exasperated.
“Seeing what it feels like to be you. If I'm half as annoying as you were just now with your endless droning, I'm beginning to understand what I put you through.”
“You don't want to be me,” Hux sighed, almost wearily. He took the glass from Ren's hand and sipped from it himself. “I thought you didn't like this, anyways. Unpleasant memories, and all.”
Kylo shrugged. “Maybe I have a new one now, and it's not so bad.”
Hux allowed himself a rare smile, his eyes glancing upward at his hat on Ren's head, that unruly hair poking out from beneath it. “You look good like this. It's a pity we'll never make a proper officer out of you.”
“You don't believe that. The fact that there's nothing proper about me is why you like me at all.”
“I don't like you, Ren.”
Kylo's mouth pulled itself into a lopsided grin. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Can we please stop talking?”
“I wish you would.”
Hux had barely set the glass back down before Kylo had aggressively reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him close and burying his face against his exposed neck. He felt his knees buckling at the feeling of teeth scraping and biting at the soft skin between almost frantic kisses, and, hating himself for it, slipped his arms around Ren's neck for support. A hand crept up the back of his head, tugging erratically at his hair; it both hurt and thrilled. He exhaled heavily and then gasped when Ren pulled particularly roughly, biting down hard at the juncture between his neck and shoulder at the same time.
“There it is,” Kylo said, voice husky and face triumphant. “Those desperate little noises I know I can make come out of you. I wonder how many others there are.”
“Shut up, Ren.”
“Make me.”
“Gladly.” He took Ren's face firmly in his hands, much like he had that drunken night aboard the broken down cruiser, and pulled their faces tightly together, except he exercised no gentleness, no self control now, slipping his tongue forcefully into Kylo's mouth. Ren reacted by wrapping his arms around him so tightly that it was slightly uncomfortable and a little difficult to breathe, yet it was clear that there was no malice in the embrace, despite his fingers digging harder and harder into Hux's back and waist. Hux couldn't help but eventually flinch in genuine pain, causing Kylo to suddenly break the kiss, a look of trepidation appearing on his face for a split second before being replaced with his strange smile, but it had not gone unnoticed by the General's keen eyes. He laughed softly, putting his lips to Kylo's ear and whispering, “Don't stop, but you needn't attempt splicing us, I'm not going anywhere.”
Ren leaned down quickly to hide the wide smile that traitorously split across his face. Hux felt it against his neck anyways, and was desperately fighting the desire to mirror it when Ren suddenly reached down and picked him up, pulling his legs tightly around his waist; he found himself momentarily unnerved by the feeling of being that shamelessly close, the stirring deep inside him when he looked down at Ren's face, his eyes heavily lidded and lips parted,staring up at him with desperation and desire that he did not bother to try and hide. He was vaguely aware that Ren was carrying him slowly, but steadily across the room, taking confident steps backwards even as he continued mouthing at his neck, stopping when the back of his legs bumped against the bed and letting himself fall back onto it, pulling Hux down on top of him. He let himself enjoy it for a brief moment, the sight of Ren on his back beneath him, that shock of hair splayed out around his head like some demon's halo. He reached up to stroke a few stray strands from around his eyes and leaned in close, their noses almost touching. Kylo writhed methodically under him, attempting to scoot himself further back onto the bed so his legs weren't dangling.
“Swear to gods, Ren, if you get into my bed with those filthy boots on, I'm going to remove them myself and shove them up your ass,” he said with sweet warning, kissing the corner of his mouth.
“You're such a ponce.”
“If you don't like it, you're free to leave.” He untangled himself from Kylo's possessive grasp, sitting up on the edge of the bed and staring down at him.
Ren's expression darkened, and Hux fancied that for a moment, there was even a trace of fear there, but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. He sat up as well, tugging off the offending footwear and letting it land on the floor with two dull thuds, shoving them unceremoniously under the bed. He had just turned to glare defiantly when Hux pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“That wasn't so hard, was it?”
Kylo vaguely registered that he shook his head in response; his mind had been busy trying to work out why such a demure gesture had startled him. Perhaps because Hux's attentions to him thus far had been driven by fury or barely-restrained lust, this had seemed downright gentle and almost . . . no. It was pandering, nothing more, he had to keep reminding himself, though it was difficult to think clearly at all with the way Hux was smiling like that; he never smiled, after all. Except for the last time they had found themselves alone together.
“This too, I'm afraid,” he said, reaching out and lifting his hat where from Kylo's head and tossing it on the nightstand. “And what is it that's amusing you this time?” he inquired as Ren smirked at him.
“ 'I'm afraid'. Just sounds funny coming from you, after all of your boasting of fearlessness.”
“I'm tempted to remind you that it's an expression, but there are so precious few things that make you happy and you're much more agreeable this way. It almost makes me like you after all.” He pecked his lips against Ren's chin and the smirk broadened into a smile that he did not hide this time.
“Is that as close to an admission that I'm going to get?” he asked teasingly, reaching up to stroke Hux's hair.
Hux guided his hand down until it rested against his cheek. “I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about.” He put his other hand on Ren's face, stroking a thumb over his lips, that odd feeling of warmth surging through him yet again when Ren leaned into his touch. “The very fact that we're here doing what we're doing is absurd enough without you trying to pry supposed confessions out of me,” he whispered. “Just enjoy this horrible nonsense for what it is, hm?”
“Have it your way, General.”
“I always do. Now are you going to undress or do you make a habit of living in that disheveled mess of black bandages?”
Kylo raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Now who's being presumptuous?”
“I only presumed that as it's nearly the dead center of the night that you were staying, nothing more. And that this,” he hooked a finger into Ren's collar and tugged, “is not anywhere near comfortable to sleep in.”
“Says the person who lives in a uniform for most of his waking life. I have to sleep when I can, I've gotten quite used to it. It certainly didn't bother me last time.”
Hux snorted. “Last time, you were stinking drunk and had the comfort of a human mattress beneath you. My shoulder was sore for weeks, you know.”
“You might have been stinking drunk given that you were eating from my hand and attempting to stick your whole head down my throat. Besides, all you had to do was ask and I would have gotten up.”
“You're talking too much again.” Hux stood to his feet and padded back to the dresser for his brandy.
Kylo let out a silent laugh. Because of course Hux would never admit the real reason he had lay smothered under someone he detested for an entire night. “Not only a presumptuous ponce, but a lush, too.” He began peeling his clothes off. “You're shameless, Hux. Oh, wait,” he said thoughtfully as he tossed down one of his many layers, finally revealing a bare chest. “Shame is an emotion, isn't it? That would explain why you're lacking it.”
Hux shot him a sneering smile over the top of his glass. “You think yourself so clever, don't you? In reality, you're disgustingly juvenile at times.”
“You're all but demanding that I strip for you, but I'm the juvenile one.” He did not bother to hide the smug satisfaction beaming across his face when Hux's cheeks developed a flush. He closed the space between them in a few short strides, hugging Hux from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. “There's nothing wrong with wanting something for yourself once in a while, you know.”
Hux remained still, deliberately not leaning into his touch. “Aren't people like you forbidden from indulging in wants?”
“People like me?”
“Yes, forgive the term, voodoo masters such as yourself.” He felt Ren's grip on him tighten threateningly. “Jedi.”
“I won't forgive it, I've warned you about using that word. Both of those words.” He delicately extracted the general's drink from his hand. “In any case, you're not forbidden,” he went on, his voice softening. “You're just unable to shut off that constant need for control, even over yourself. It'll poison you, you know.” He brought the glass to his lips and took a swallow, clearing his throat a little afterwards. “That's still a little bit off-putting.”
Hux smiled, dropping his gaze to the floor and squeezing Kylo's hand as it rested on his middle. “I know the feeling.” He reached out in an attempt to retrieve his glass, but Ren placed it back on the dresser.
“We both know you came looking for me tonight, I won't let you drink me away this time, or blame your actions on what's in that glass.” His voice was firm and his hands confident; he made quick, neat work of the buttons on Hux's shirt and slid it from his shoulders, letting it billow gracelessly to the floor.
“Don't make me regret this, Ren,” he sighed, finally leaning into his touch.
“Always the misanthropist, aren't you?” He sighed contentedly, peppering kisses along Hux's shoulders.
“Only when it comes to you and your compromising displays of emotion.”
He put his lips to Hux's ear. “No one's watching. You don't have to pretend to hate this. I stopped wearing a mask when we're alone, so should you.”
Hux swallowed hard. How could Ren possibly understand that it wasn't the physical contact that bothered him, quite the contrary, but the way Ren was being so uncharacteristically gentle. How he cupped his face in his hand, the way he was now placing chaste little kisses on his forehead, his chin, pulling back to stare at him with that gaze that seemed to penetrate him to his core. It was almost as if he truly cared, and Hux found this incredibly unnerving. He could remain stoic even as Ren sliced their enemies to bits, only dodging to avoid being in the path of the spraying blood and entrails when they came. He stood almost unflinching as he had hurled shrapnel at him in the darkness, but a soft and attentive and emotional Ren was almost deeply disturbing. Hux was altogether unused to anyone actually caring about his own happiness, and had grown accustomed to sweaty one-night encounters with his admirers or sycophants. He knew that no crass encounters would occur tonight and that Ren would still be lying beside him when the sun came up in the morning, and the thought made him tremble with anxiety and . . . relief? He almost wished now that the shrapnel had caught him in the head so he'd be lying in a pleasant medically induced coma in medbay now instead of having these ridiculous thoughts. A shudder ran through him.
“What is it that you want from me, Ren?”
Kylo pressed his lips to Hux's hair, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Just . . .” he squeezed his hand, knowing that he was doubtless about to make him at least little uncomfortable, “just let me stay with you tonight.” The memories rushed back unbidden once more. Don't send me away. Hux was cold and calculating and ruthless, Kylo wasn't entirely sure himself why either of them would insist on this game of back and forth. He laced their fingers together snugly, waiting for a response.
The militant nature in Hux screamed in disgust and protest at the pathetic and vulnerable display before him, the reluctant pleading in the bright brown eyes of a man that had caused so many people such distress, who, like him, had ended so many lives without so much as a second thought. A man who should not ever allow himself to be vulnerable at all. And yet the other part of Hux, the one that he had pushed aside and buried for so many years, from the time he was a small child, whispered 'Perhaps you are not so different, after all', and he found himself frantically nodding, and Ren's mouth came crashing down on his again. Their hands unclasped and he felt those arms slipping around him and pulling him close even as his own reached out to unabashedly caress every inch of Ren he could reach, from the black waves atop his head to the taut buttocks and back up his sides and further to hold his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks as the kiss deepened.
Kylo pulled away, his face a sloppy mix of emotions. Desperation, physical and emotional, for this thing that was happening, gratitude towards Hux for letting it happen, and self-loathing for wanting it in the first place. Abandoning what remained of his caution, he scooped Hux into his arms once more and somehow they had tumbled back onto the bed and Hux was staring up at him, and it seemed as if an odd warmth was trying desperately to reach out to him through those normally icy eyes. He wanted to take him so badly, it had been so long, and yet he would not, not tonight, choosing instead to simply turn on his side, kissing Hux in random places and enjoying his attentions being reciprocated until sleep took them both. It would capture Hux first this time, his head tucked into the curve of Ren's neck, one hand above their heads on the pillows; he had been toying with Kylo's hair yet again. His other arm draped loosely over the enormous torso, his hand rested in Ren's, a thumb caressed lazily over the back of his fingers.
Kylo could only lie there in a strange state of overwhelming contentment and slight confusion. There were billions of warm, willing bodies throughout the galaxy, with personalities no doubt also warmer and more willing than the bloodthirsty warlord that lay beside him with deceptive peacefulness. And yet, the more he tried to push away thoughts of him after their bizarre failed mission, the troubling memories of his childhood grew stronger and more frequent, growing his insecurities like a weed inside of him. No, it would be just like it was then. The children of his mother's friends, forced to play with him out of political interest until they grew afraid, went home with stories about what sort of a boy he was, and avoided him at all costs with no regard for his feelings thereafter. He could have slipped off quietly with that silly Togrutan clerk from the market, who had eyed him so flirtatiously after he'd paid for the chocolates and Absinthe. She would have let him do whatever he wanted even without using the Force for persuasion, and it would have been sort of nice, for a while, until she saw him for the monster that he really was – they always did. Instead he had coldly gathered his purchases and left without so much as a backwards glance, returning to a useless little cruiser and a single passenger inside, whom shared a mutual loathing, openly detested him despite a grudging respect, and so he never had to worry about seeing that look of horror in his eyes; Hux had always known what he was and did not care. Still, although they were equally monstrous people, there was no reason he should find anything other than unsettling distrust in the general. And yet, as the man lay there softly snoring against him, one leg lazily shifting to curl around his waist, Kylo felt safe.
What seemed like hours later, although it might have only been minutes, Hux was awakened by fitful stirring and almost incoherent muttering coming from Ren. He remained still, watching him with interest, but ready to move if he grew violent in his sleep. It only lasted for a few moments and Ren was still again, the way his breath had grown shallower indicating that he, too, was awake. Hux reached up to stroke his hair, kissing him firmly on the mouth. A hand caressed the back of his neck and an arm wrapped around him, pulling him close.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.”
“I don't mind, it's nothing I'm not used to in the first place, and not as startling as the things that I'm typically forced to wake up for.” He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy the feeling of Ren's cheek on the top of his head. After a while he couldn't help but break the silence again. “You frightened your mother? And your father?”
“What are you talking about?” Ren asked darkly, his body stiffening slightly.
Hux's tone was uncharacteristically soft. “You talk in your sleep, Ren.”
“I've told you before, I frighten almost everyone. My parents were not exceptions; they were probably more afraid of me than anyone else.”
“I'm familiar with your parents. War generals during the fall of the Empire, both of them. I'd have expected better of them than to be frightened of a child.”
“The child expected better, too. He was disappointed. I don't want to talk about my parents, Hux.”
“Then don't.” Hux closed his eyes, feeling sleep beginning to tug at him again. He was nearly gone when Ren's voice startled him again.
“You failed, what is it that you failed at?”
Hux narrowed his bleary eyes at him with no small trace of suspicion. “Gods help you if you've been in my head while I was sleeping, Ren.”
“If I'd been in your head, you'd know it, trust me.” He leaned in smugly, his breath tripping teasingly over Hux's ear. “You talk in your sleep, too. Something about falling. I recall you saying something similar last time.”
Hux went quiet, fumbling with the covers for longer than necessary while scrambling to work out how best to respond. As he finally tugged the heavy duvet up to their waists, snuggling back into the warmth of the body beside him, he'd made up his mind. “I am loathe to admit it, but I fear I have failed us spectacularly, Ren. I might have gone and let us fall.”
Kylo hugged him close as sleep claimed him once again, and when morning arrived on Starkiller Base, he inwardly cursed the sunlight that streamed in mercilessly through the window beside them, knowing that the day now beckoned them both to part ways and give in to the demands of life serving the First Order. He had always been fonder of the darkness and in the months to come, would grow fonder still.