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English
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Part 5 of Sugar and Ice
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Sugar and Ice: Kylux Fluff Series
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Published:
2016-11-16
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1,864
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Honesty Hour

Summary:

There's no use in being anything but honest, and Hux has a lot on his mind as he waits for Ren to return.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Work is the cure for all ills. Hux firmly believes this. It has saved him from despair, from overthinking, more often than he can say. He does not have to wonder about Ren's mission, whatever secretive task he is working on. This information is not ever really clear, but Hux does know there is some degree of danger involved, because otherwise Ren wouldn't always come back banged up like a freighter ship that's halfway to the junkyard. It's stupid, mentally fussing over him like a mother bird, wanting to scold him for worrying him, wanting so badly to protect him, giving him trinkets to try and keep him safe. He reasons with himself. The charm is, if nothing else, an excellent placebo. Asset protection. Ren is too valuable.

All the usual excuses.

He sleeps miserably. Works instead of sleeping. Hux begins prowling at night, trying to catch somebody, anybody, fucking up. Woe to the trooper who dares to laze during these itchy, anxious days. He schedules late meetings, drags them out as long as he can, cares nothing for the fact that his lieutenants are nearly asleep in their chairs. During the brief hours of sleep he gets, he mulls over his last discussion with Ren. Thinks about what he'd like to discuss.

The time he's spent sharing a bed with Ren has been the most relaxing time he's spent in years, really, in years. He hasn't exactly defended his thoughts from Ren, so he's reasonably certain Ren knows how inexperienced he is, if only by process of elimination, if only by recognizing in Hux's mind how unfamiliar intimacy is. He has no comparable experience, besides a few shitty awkward kisses as a drunk, emboldened teenager. Definitely no experience--

Oh, fuck. Hux feels himself burn red, just thinking about how untouched he really is, at least by any hands other than his own. He does nothing without plotting and practice, but it seems like performance and practice are one and the same in this case. No way to learn but by doing it.

He is honest enough with himself to know how frightened he is of disappointing anybody.

This is why work is so crucial. He doesn't have to feel the swelling panicky pressure of these thoughts when he's working. And there's plenty to do. Even if he never slept at all, he wouldn't run out.

Hux is in another late meeting when he receives a message on his data pad from Ren. He has to steel himself to keep from visibly reacting. He sits a little straighter but keeps his face stoic, even as his heart sinks at what he sees.

Why are you being like this? Can we please talk?

He has no idea what Ren is talking about but it worries him.

I'm in a meeting right now, but I'll be happy to discuss any matter you're concerned about afterward.

There's barely any hesitation in Ren's answer, thank goodness. Ren is too impatient and straightforward for games.

I'm laughing oh my stars. I've been requesting entry to your room for the past twenty minutes. I thought you were ignoring me.

Half of Hux wants to groan and half of him wants to laugh. He's amazed that Ren didn't simply knock the door down, but then again, Ren has never actually destroyed a personal possession of Hux's. He can't claim full ownership of the ship, as much as he'd like to. He messages back--

I'm working, you complete moron.

He hopes this doesn't come across as too scathing. It's harder to do over text, when Ren can't see him or hear him or feel the radiant breath of his unhideable concern. Quickly he adds--

I'll be a bit, but I'm unlocking the door from here. Make yourself at home.

Another immediate response.

Don't I always?

Again, this is harder to interpret without him physically there. He decides it is playful.

The irony of his current situation bites him square in the ass. All week he's trapped everyone else in meetings that won't end; now, he's trapped himself. It would be suspicious as hell for him to suddenly adjourn it, so he withstands the anticipation as best as he can, though he can tell his veneer of professionalism is slipping. He's jiggling his foot, or sliding his stylus to make it longer and shorter, over and over. His answers grow clipped, though, then again, that's probably not unusual, especially over the past two weeks.

At last he is free, and he works to not sprint back to his quarters.

Ren has already climbed into his bed, positioned in his usual sideways sprawl, snoring lightly. Hux called it--he's peppered with bandages and bruises, tokens from this newest mission. The side he's sleeping on hides the scar on his face, but there is a dark shadow of something across the jaw that's visible. Hux notices right away that he's not wearing the stone, which affects him more than he thought it would. What does that mean, exactly?

"Chain broke," Ren says sleepily. Hux winces. Apparently it affected him enough to rouse Ren from sleep, his distress noisy and needy.

"The chain broke or you broke the chain?"

"Second one. Get in bed."

Hux undresses and obeys. "Do you still have the stone, Ren?"

Ren shifts and lifts one arm, opening his fist to let the stone dangle from the chain. "Mmhm. I held onto it."

The hoop of the chain is missing, though the lobster clasp is still intact.

"You can get a new chain," Hux says. "That doesn't matter."

"I pulled on it when I thought you were ignoring me," Ren confesses, sounding almost childish in his guilt.

"You moron," Hux says again, affectionate. "Did it not occur to you I'd be working?"

"Not at that hour, no. Don't you rest?"

Hux snorts.

"I should have known." Ren stretches, giving Hux a better view of all his injuries. All small, but there are so many. Hux wonders if he takes pride in them. "Sometimes I think I'm dreaming. We only spend time together when I'm asleep."

"Not last time."

"Let's do that again."

"We're not playing cards at this hour."

"You don't want to? You might be able to beat me when I'm half-asleep."

"That's canceled out when I'm tired too."

Ren settles so he's facing Hux, smiling. He's so different when they share a bed, sometimes Hux thinks he's dreaming too. No destruction, no black moods, no brooding. Ren is merely warm and languorous, wants to play, wants comfort, wants to joke. Maybe the change in setting does it. Maybe just sinking down next to a body that does not push him away.

"Then how about a kiss?" Ren asks.

"All right," Hux decides airily, like he has to think about it.

Ren leans in, the initiator as usual, but something bright and forceful takes hold of Hux and he grabs Ren by the hair like slamming a foot on the ignition of some deliciously fast vehicle, cranking it up from gentle to something else entirely. There's a muffled moan of surprise coming out of Ren's mouth, but only for a second, because maybe Ren wasn't ready for this but he recovers fast. Both his hands are on Hux's shoulders, and Hux squirms like a burrowing animal to try and get on top of him without breaking free of the kiss, but then something hard is under his shin and it hurts and Hux can't help but yelp in surprise.

"Oh, shit," Ren says. "I let go of the--here, give it here."

Still dizzy with greed, still straddling Ren, Hux finds it and hands it over. Ren drops it onto the pile of clothes he's kicked half-under the bed. "Won't lose it," he promises, his voice thick as syrup.

"Good," Hux breathes, panting.

"Was there something you wanted to discuss with me, General?" Ren asks, rubbing his hands against the narrow lines of Hux's shoulders.

It's honesty hour. He's decided to pick truth, just like when they were playing their card game. Two weeks of waiting has made him willing to say what he's thinking. He suspects Ren is egging him on mentally, doing something to relax him enough to get the truth out. Equally likely is that he's just run out of fucks to give. Either way, Hux closes his eyes and says, "Ren. I have absolutely no experience, and I doubt I would be able to prove myself to be satisfactory."

He can hear himself swallowing, loud. Ren is gently skimming his thoughts, looking, he imagines, for any sign that this is just an excuse, that Hux doesn't really want this. He won't find any.

"You really think that you won't make me happy."

It's not a question. Ren sounds dumbfounded.

"It wouldn't be for lack of trying. But--I'd like for you to feel it's worth your while."

"Do you think I would have wrecked my room night after night for something not worth my while?"

"Ren, I don't know. Anyone can lie next to somebody and not kick them out. What I would like to do is different."

"What would you like to do?"

Hux says nothing. He knows what he wants to say but not how to articulate it. Finally he answers:

"I'd like to be worshiped."

Ren laughs and Hux finds himself cringing with humiliation. He should have said nothing. He should have called the whole thing off--

"Relax. Relax, General. I'm not laughing at you."

"You're the one who lost his mind when he thought he was being ignored for twenty minutes," Hux shoots back.

"I won't deny it. I'm just--that was a very you answer." Ren takes Hux's hands and runs them over the clean bandages on his arms. "I do need a night to recuperate. But tomorrow--perhaps I could give you what you want and it might build your morale a bit."

Hux, it seems, is not the only one capable of giving morale-building gifts that also benefit the giver.

"That suits me," Hux says coolly, his heart racing at the thought.

"Are you going to sleep sitting on top of me or would you like to lie down?"

Hux slides back down onto the bed, pressing himself into Ren's side. What a relief it is, to have this heat and bulk back here beside him. He indulges Ren by kissing one of the bandages, chaste and sweet. "You missed me," Ren says.

"I suppose that's rather obvious now. It'd be foolish of me to deny it."

"You thought about me all the time."

"Oh, come on," Hux gripes. "It's not as though I laid in bed with my arm over my eyes, weeping. I had quite a bit to occupy me."

"Acting and thinking are two different things, General."

"Mm," is all Hux can say. It's true. It was always in the back of his mind, anyway.

He dreams of Ren's hands on him, of being praised. He is imagining their agreed-upon encounter in detail he would have not dared until now. He wakes the following morning without a muddy dark sleep-deprivation headache for the first time in days.

Notes:

The fluff has returned!

Just like in Star Bed, which this is following up, this is based a little bit on Tumblr discussions with saltandlimes and an anon about Hux being a virgin.

I also built a good bit of it around a prompt I got from allthecharactersinmyhead, who picked "How about a kiss?"

Come play with me on Tumblr.

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