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"Are you nervous?" Ren asks.
He is not asking this question to get a literal answer; Hux knows his nervousness is rolling off him in waves. To a mind like Ren's, surely it's as visible as hot breath on a snowy day. Of course he is.
The purpose of this question, rather, is to give Hux an out. If he says yes, he has the opportunity to renege. He wonders what Ren will do if he does that. He will understand, surely, but it will disappoint him.
"Yes," Hux says, honest because there is no use in being anything else with Ren. "But that's not a bad thing."
It isn't.
He is excited. He is excited in a way that is reserved for such specific things. He is excited in a way that feels dizzying and greedy and bright. He has felt such excitement in regards to promotion, and to being chosen to lead, and being listened to while addressing thousands. Always there is the feeling of being special, which is a kid's word for such a sensation, but it's true. He is special. Singled out for something so good it is otherworldly.
He clears his throat. "Would it be possible for me to make a request?"
"I'm hoping this evening is only comprised of your requests," Ren quips. "Yes. Do it."
Why is a request so much more difficult than a command? It sticks, like something badly chewed, in Hux's throat. "The lights. Could we lower--not all the way, but--?"
"Mood lighting," Ren suggests.
"There is something appealing about the dark," Hux responds. "But not pitch--I do want to be able to see you--I--" He hates the way his voice is breaking, but Ren spares him the need to go on.
"I like the sound of that, too. Just enough light. Go ahead and adjust it to how you like."
After Hux does so, Ren pulls him close, not rough but definitely eager, and immediately asks, "Can I kiss you now?"
"You don't have to ask me that. Of course you can."
"I can hear your heart beating and beating--I don't want to--"
Ren has apparently decided it's too much trouble to explain, or maybe he's too embarrassed, or whatever. The reason doesn't matter, but Hux finds himself touched by the gesture, even in his impatience to get started. Of course, of course. Always, yes.
His heart is beating so fast that it's practically throbbing against the back of his throat. He wonders if Ren can feel the tremble of his mouth as he falls into it, wanting, even as he wonders if this will be as good for Ren as Ren himself seems to be sure it will.
"Nothing to be nervous for," Ren whispers.
"Nothing," Hux agrees, hoping saying it aloud will make it so.
"Do you want to know a secret, General?" Ren asks, biting a hard kiss into Hux's neck that already feels like it's blackening deliciously.
"Of course I do."
"It thrills me more than I can say that you haven't been with anyone before me." He laughs into the hollow of Hux's throat, and Hux tilts his head back like a damsel in some romance holovid, his lips parted in a way that makes Ren smile. "You know how I despise competition."
"You know I hold myself to high standards," Hux purrs, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels. It pleases him to stroke Ren's ego, even though the point of tonight is the opposite, he supposes.
He takes a moment to just think about that. That Ren has reserved an evening to worship him.
He is so experienced in being feared but being worshiped is another thing entirely.
"It would burn me alive to think of anyone else having this," Ren continues, working his way down to Hux's collarbone, biting harder than he expects so that he really cries out for the first time this evening. "Having this. Having all of this."
Hux 'mm's' in a sort of distressed pleasure. The distress is only unfamiliarity, uncertainty, not lack of enjoyment. He is practically salivating to think of what Ren is planning.
"You're gorgeous," Ren breathes, and Hux moans again. "Do you--?--Look. Look this way." Ren positions himself so he is sitting behind Hux, Hux between his legs, so they can see the mirror across the room in which Hux stares every morning as he meticulously inspects his own appearance, and, of late, in which he watches Ren dress early in the morning. "Look."
In the dimness that Hux has chosen, his skin is a muted, blurry white, the shadows of Ren's bandaged arms crossing his chest, pulling him tight as they sit on Hux's bed that has become an altar, a place of worship. Ren bites an already-bitten spot again, working his teeth and tongue against the beautiful hurt. "Look at you," Ren says again, again. "Gorgeous. So striking. There is no one who sees you that can look away."
Hux feels himself grinding back up against Ren, feeling gloriously hazy, greedy, his breath stolen. He can feel how hard Ren has gotten against his back.
"Fuck," Ren growls, and it is the most beautiful sound Hux has ever heard. His hands are trailing roughly down Hux's body, clawing at Hux's hips. "Do you think I've ever wasted an opportunity to look at you as much as I wanted? When I was wearing a mask, or when you were asleep? When you let me in--fuck, it was so--all I could have wanted--"
He pulls Hux in for another kiss, something like a whimper coming out of his mouth but deeper and darker, sweeter, harsher, better. It is better than Hux could have imagined. Better than he could have asked for.
"You amaze me," Ren said, pulling away. "Do you--if you want me to keep--?"
"Please," Hux says, and it is not a request, no, he is fully begging, he wants this too much. "Please, please--"
"I'll worship you right," Ren promises in that perfect desperate husk, so good that Hux might come from that alone. Part of Hux knows that he will never be the same after hearing that phrase come out of Ren's mouth in that tone.
"Please," Hux says again, fainter, unable to stand the suspense anymore.
Ren slides out from behind him. How he can move so silently, so lightly, when he carries so much broadshouldered muscle astonishes Hux. Must be something to do with his--
He is wrenched free of his curiosity when Ren places another sharp, sucking kiss on the meat of Hux's thigh. There will be teeth marks. Hux is writhing, nearly falling onto his back, so blinding-good is this feeling.
"Easy. Easy, General." In the low light, he sees Ren's mischievous smile, even though most of him is in shadow. "You love this, don't you?"
"Yes," Hux nearly whines. "More--I want more of this--"
Ren kisses higher up on his thigh, then switches legs, higher still. "I'm glad," he says, and he sounds warm and sweet, genuinely, really. He waits until he and Hux have locked eyes before saying, "I want to give you everything you want, General. You deserve everything I can give you."
For a breathless, stumbling moment, Hux thinks he's going to come right there. He manages to resist, but then Ren is licking a slow certain stripe up his leg and then across the tip of his cock, and he cannot stop himself. Heat shoots up through him, bright and precise as a laser, and he wrenches his eyes shut as he finds his release. When he opens his eyes, he panics, because he's come across Ren's face and he is pretty sure that was not part of either of their plans.
And then Ren rakes his fingers across his face, careless, and licks them clean, and smiles so lazily that Hux is sure this is a dream, even though his senses have never been so sharp and his heart has never beaten so fast in any dream.
"Tell me what you're thinking, General," Ren asks, his lips filthy.
"There's no way that was real," he whispers back. "There's no way you're--"
"Now. Enough of that." But Ren is grinning, watching the sharp-tongued eloquent Hux struggle to speak. "I'll take it as a compliment."
"You ought to."
"We can do more sometime soon."
"I want to."
"Tonight?"
"Wake me up and we'll do more," Hux says, finally falling onto his back, rubbing his temples with his knuckles.
"I like the sound of this, General," Ren says. "Waking you in the middle of the night anytime I like, just to hear you moan? Are you giving me permission?"
"Unless I have an early meeting the following morning. If not, I sincerely hope you do. Clean yourself up before you kiss me."
"Oh, bullshit. Don't you want to feel dirty?"
He does. Ren knows it. "You're incorrigible."
"Absolutely true," Ren agrees, but pads off to wash up regardless. This time, for the first time, it is Ren climbing into bed where Hux is drowsing. It's a likable sensation, an agreeable one, the warmth coming to him instead of him coming to it. He feels special again, in a less sensational way, but a protected, gentle one.
"Get me dirty sometime soon," Hux murmurs in concession, and Ren hums in agreement, and Hux's dreams sparkle with the static of being worshiped, and he hopes, he really hopes, that Ren can hear his gratitude.