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Hux wakes certain it was all a dream. To have asked, and to receive, with no expectations and no negotiations and nothing asked of him in return--it seems unreal to him. He wakes early, the room still dark. They are still in dream time, they are still in the time and place where they allow themselves to be soft and gentle. Or not. Or something else, whatever else they like.
But it was real, Hux realizes, thinking of the way Ren licked his fingers without breaking eye contact, the things he told Hux, the things he told him and meant...
You deserve everything I can give you.
And doesn't Ren, too? Hux is still not sure what he himself can give, or how well he can give it. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's not sure he can envelop Ren in the same breathless confident praise, not sure he can warm Ren the same way, telling him effortlessly how lovely he is, without his voice trembling, without him growing nervous he'll fuck up. He doesn't want to admit this because this is not the person he knows. Hux has never, ever been the type to stumble over his words or not know exactly what to say. Has never not known exactly what barb to throw and how hard, how precise. The compliments he gives Ren, for the most part, must be sauced in disdain or else they taste too strong in his mouth.
It exhausts him but he doesn't know how to stop.
You deserve everything I can give you....
"I'm sorry," he says softly to Ren, because Ren is asleep and cannot hear and that is a loophole, that is a clause that allows the words to pass through. "I truly am. That you give me so much more than I give you."
Stiffly, defensively, he adds, "Though I am going to work on it."
It's so dark and his eyes don't want to adjust, so he closes them, knowing that the shape of Ren is there, the warmth and the smell of him, the sound of his breathing, the way he sometimes exhales sharply that makes Hux wonder if he's dreaming. Surely Ren dreams vividly, Hux thinks. He doesn't know very much about the Force but he imagines being able to see so much in the mind's eye would lead to dreams as intense as waking life.
His own dreams were subtle but full of desire, glimmering with the highlights of the night's events. Part of him had hoped Ren might really wake him as promised and go for another round, but he doesn't begrudge him his sleep. Unlike Hux, who is a light sleeper that can't stand light or noise or change in temperature, Ren could presumably sleep through the heat death of the universe, once he gets there.
"I think too hard about these things," he goes on, so low he can hardly hear himself. "It's rather hard to just--let go. Though I did. Last night. I found that place where I wasn't so critical of how I sounded or what I said. I didn't know it was there, but I suppose it was just hidden."
Already he's thinking that this sounds stupid, cliche, overly dramatic, insipid. How does one shut this fuckery down? Instead of feeling relief, he only feels more frustrated. He shuts up.
A minute passes. Then another.
"I could help you relax, you know," comes Ren's voice.
The statement has exactly the opposite of its intended effect. Hux goes stiff and his heart starts beating anxiously as he realizes Ren has probably heard everything, and the loophole has snapped shut.
"I don't know if anyone could," Hux growls.
"I think you work harder at convincing yourself that you're high-strung than at doing anything about it," Ren responds.
All Hux can do is huff in irritation.
"I don't mean that cruelly," Ren goes on. "I'm just being honest."
"Will this solution involve getting into my head?"
"Yes. Wouldn't you like that?"
He would, actually. It would open a new loophole in whatever complex he has, where he doesn't have to admit to his anxiety or fear or inexperience or softness or gentleness because he has been eavesdropped upon, and he can pretend it wasn't something he fully and gladly authorized.
"Yes," is all he says.
"So tell me I can."
Hux has heard legends about creatures on distant planets that can steal your life, your soul, but they have to be invited in first. What a stupid story, he'd always thought. Who would do that, ever?
"You can do that," he says.
The mental image Hux has as Ren begins to work on him is that of wading out into warm water, though he tries to think if he's ever done so in his life. Was there ever a lake, or a river--? No, surely not. The only thing he's experienced for a very long time that is warm, physically or emotionally, is Ren. It feels like his body has fully fallen asleep while his mind has powered down to maybe thirty percent. Aware, sensing, but slowed and unconcerned. He's familiar with the quick skimming of Ren's mental hand against his mind, but this is much more in-depth. He dimly enjoys the sensation of being adjusted, of Ren pulling him closer and pulling the covers nice and tight and even over them both.
"Stars, you're so worried," Ren says in his low full sleepy voice.
Hux nods, or maybe just inclines his head. It's hard to tell.
"Can I just say you think far more about whether or not you'll fuck up than I do? I know you're not--experienced. But there's only one way to get it."
"Yes," Hux says softly. "I know."
"I don't mind that you're nervous, you know," Ren says. "That doesn't bother me. But--you don't have to be."
"Yes," Hux says again. "I...I know that too."
"Do you really think I'll complain if there's anything you want to do to me?"
"If I do it incorrectly," Hux manages to say, though each word is an effort in this viscous slow state. "If I disappoint you..."
He feels Ren's hand in his hair, stroking dreamily, steady and certain. "General. There are two ways you could go about this, and either of them would please me equally."
"Mmhm?"
"The first is to bluff. You do it all the time, I see it, I hear it. Whatever makes this particular issue so different, I don't know, but I do know you are more than capable of acting as though you're better than everyone else in every conceivable way. I feel like if you bring that attitude to the table, we'll both be rewarded."
"And the other one?" Hux asks.
Ren laughs. "Well. To do exactly the opposite. To weaponize your inexperience and....play a game, as it were. Pretend you are even shyer than you are, more innocent than you are, and work it into whatever we end up doing next." He pauses. "It could be fun."
"It's fun for you because you want to see me blush," Hux grumbles, settling closer to Ren so he can drape himself sleepily across the absurd expanse of your chest.
"Oh, definitely. But think of how many birds this one stone will kill. Anything you feel unsure about will just be part of the game, you'll give me something I really want, and we'll both get off."
Hux considers this. Maybe it just seems so agreeable because he's so relaxed and sleepy now, so carefree, but it genuinely seems like a good plan. Is this something that--actually excites Ren? He'd spent so much time dwelling on how much it might bother him that he never considered the opposite.
"I want you so badly," Ren says, dropping his voice to barely above a whisper, kissing another mark into Hux's already-bruised neck. "Whichever way you decide to go. I want that."
"You can have me," Hux whispers hazily, though he means it. "You can have me." Ren just laughs again.
"I will. Later. After you're back to being yourself. It'll be more fun that way. Sleep now. Still a couple hours til you're supposed to be up."
Only a couple, but how warm and how good, how necessary. Hux lets himself wade as deeply as he could into the feeling of Ren's Force on him, so he can sleep and not have a care at all, not a worry, so he can know only the feeling of Ren's hand pressed into his cool white back.