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***
It’s been three months.
Three months of shared pots of caf at breakfast, the ocassional private smiles shared on the bridge with the rest of the crew dutifully looking away, and falling asleep under a shared duvet only to wake up with it kicked off the bed and with Ren’s furnace of a body plastered along his back keeping him warm.
Also three months of breadcrumbs all over the dinette carpet and long hair clogging the ‘fresher drain, but Hux isn’t even mad about that. That’s what cleaning droids are for.
Three months of frankly mind-blowing sex.
And then Ren has to go and leave on a mission. A week turns into two, and then the last mission update adds another two weeks on top of that.
They only have one holo-call during that time and though it’s amazing to watch Ren’s come splatter his chest in thick white drops as he sighs Hux’s name, it’s not enough.
A month apart, that’s all it takes, for Hux to miss his husband. He’s fucking domesticated. It’s horrible. He’d be more mad about it if he wasn’t too busy feeling homesick in his own quarters. And so fucking horny half the time, too.
But today, Ren is finally coming back, and Hux has a plan.
Because not only he’d spent the last three months of their marriage soaking up every bit of knowledge under Ren’s dedicated tutelage and his amazing collection of toys…
Ren had been right. The holonet is indeed vast and useful when you know where to look. And now Hux has a couple of tricks up his sleeve that he’s itching to try.
*
On a normal, completely by the book kind of day, the protocol would dictate that Hux meets Ren with a parade of troopers in the hangar. An officer must be met upon arrival with another ranking the same or at least the highest available, and Hux and Ren technically share the same rank. But Ren is also technically outside the fleet altogether, and more importantly, he doesn’t give two fucks and probably doesn’t even know about the protocol in the first place.
Plus, the less Hux has to look at that wreck that is the Night Buzzard, the better.
So it’s this little deviation in protocol that allows Hux to ‘accidentally’ run into Ren in an empty corridor on his way to the audience chamber to give a proper report to Snoke. His heart skips a beat when he sees that hulking, prowling figure wrapped in a ragged cloak and crowned with that familiar helmet - he used to hate that thing but now he can read Ren’s moods with it on just as well as without. For example, the slight forward tilt means Ren is smiling underneath the face-plate, just like now, when he spotted Hux.
“There you are.” Hux keeps the straightest face possible as he walks up to Ren with measured strides, and then very nearly breaks character when Ren pulls him into an abrupt hug and Hux relaxes into it before he remembers himself. He has a mission here, for kriff’s sake.
Over his shoulder, Ren’s voice comes through the vocoder with an electronic crackle of a sigh. “Too fucking long, Hux.”
He frees one hand and moves to unlatch and lift his mask off, but Hux stops him.
“No time,” he murmurs and pushes Ren back against the wall.
There are soldiers patroling these corridors regularly, but Hux knows their schedule. He wrote it himself. He can hear their heavy steps two corridors over but they shouldn’t be coming here in the next ten minutes, and that’s more than Hux needs.
“Hux,” and the vocoder does a good job of keeping Ren’s tone flat even though Hux can still hear the pouty complaint behind it. But at the same time, Ren shifts his feet wider, giving Hux more room, and isn’t it wonderful to have a mind-reader for a husband?
“I was wondering why you weren’t in the hangar.”
Huh, so Ren knows the protocol, he just chooses to ignore it most of the time. Hux files that thought for later and for now, he keeps his tone low and teasing.
“Wanted to give you a better welcome than the pompous fanfare.”
The hunger he feels for the man in front of himself still seeps into his voice, and from the hitch in Ren’s breathing and the tightening of Ren’s hand wrapped around his shoulder, he knows Ren heard and felt it just fine.
The advantage of living with someone, sharing that everyday intimacy, is knowing the way they dress like the back of his own hand. Hux knows exactly where to grab and pull to unfasten just the front of Ren’s pants under his tunic. He pulls off his glove with his teeth and sneaks his bare hand inside, wrapping his fingers around Ren’s cock - hot, already hard and twitching.
Ren’s head falls back against the wall with a loud metallic thunk. The background stomping of patrols stops. Ren freezes, and Hux raises an expectant eyebrow.
Ren, somehow reluctantly, let’s go of Hux for long enough to make an aborted hand wave in the vague direction of the patrol, and after a moment the sound of steps resumes and fades away.
“Quiet,” Hux grins. “The sound carries.”
Ren snorts but apparently takes it as a challenge because he doesn’t quip anything in response.
Hux touches him exactly the way he knows Ren likes, and in his mind, knowing that Ren is most likely listening, he brings up a vivid memory of their last time together. The night before he left, Ren had held him pressed against the wall with his wrists trapped above his head and fucked him hard. It was the first time Ren allowed himself to be anything else than extremely gentle with Hux, the impending separation bringing up something desperate in him, something wild. It was the first time Hux was just that tiny bit underprepared and he’s still thinking about it - about the exhilaration of being held up by nothing but the wall, one of Ren’s massive hands under his arse and his legs tightly wrapped around Ren’s waist, the angle and gravity making him take that magnificent cock deeper than he ever did until he felt like he would split, each rough thrust punch the breath out of his lungs until he was lightheaded and senseles with lust. How the burn only made him want more, and how he couldn’t sit down properly the next two days, the slight ache only making him half hard and frustrated all day because Ren was gone.
In his hands right now, Ren is trembling, barely standing straight on shaking knees, clinging to his shoulders and Hux can feel the wave of his pleasure gathering, surging up, about to crest on the next pump of his hand–
–he lets go of Ren and pulls his glove back on. “Meet me in the officers lounge after the end of Besh shift tonight.”
Hux didn’t know that even with the mask on Ren could manage to look so stupefied. He’s slumped against the wall, breathing laboured, and Hux imagines the inside of his visor must be foggy.
“Hux!”
“You said one week and it was four. Surely now you can wait a little longer.”
He’s walking away, a smug spring in his step, leaving behind a suitably wrecked mess of a husband, when he feels a phantom tingle up the inside of his thigh - a featherlight, suggestive, very indecent caress of the Force. Fine. Two can play at this game.
*
Later that evening, Hux is pleased to see Ren walk through the door of the officers lounge at exactly a minute past the Besh shift. He’s wearing a new set of clothes - clean and lighter, a step down from the padded tunic and reinforced sleeves made to withstand stray blaster bolts. His mask is absent and the surprise is clear on his face as he takes in the scene before him.
A single table set up with dinner for two, food still warm and drinks sparkling in the flickering candlelight.
Hux meets him at the door, ostentatively because he wants to personally lock the door behind him, but mostly because it’s becoming physically impossible to stay away from his husband. This afternoon, Ren wasn’t the only one who’s been suffering - but Hux is on a mission here, and sacrifices have to be made.
“This is quite the effort,” Ren says in greeting. Then the realisation finally hits him. “Is this a date? Are you dining and wining me?”
“Our first official date,” Hux confirms with a little proud smile. So many things in their marriage have been backwards but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t enjoy them, even if slightly out of order. “And just because we’re already married I’m not going to treat you as if you were easy.”
“But I am,” Ren replies with a mischievous grin as he blocks Hux’s path, close enough that Hux can feel the warmth radiating off his body. “So easy and ready for you.”
Now Hux remembers. After the debrief with Snoke, Ren had the whole rest of the shift to himself while Hux was tied up on the bridge. He only dropped by at their quarters to quickly freshen up before the end of shift, and he noticed that something about the cabin was off… now it came back to him. The box under the bed was moved slightly from where it stood before.
Looks like Ren found time for more than just sleep and shower.
“What are you wearing?” There are so many possibilities.
“Your favourite.”
Ren pulls him flush to himself as they embrace and Hux’s hands assume their familiar path, reacquainting themselves with the lovely curve of his husband’s arse. Ren pushes his hips into the touch and it takes all of Hux’s willpower not to give in and feel through the fabric for what he knows is nestled between those round cheeks - a solid black plug, a favourite of both of them. He swats Ren’s butt lightly in reprimand and kisses away the pout on his lips.
“It’s good to have you back.” I missed you, he doesn’t say.
Ren relaxes in the embrace, all of his weight resting momentarily on Hux’s shoulders as he sighs. “I missed you terribly.”
There was a time when Hux would be annoyed with it, how Kylo is better even at this, this talking thing and lowering your barriers thing and all those little things that apparently make up a good marriage, but these days he’s past that. He’d outgrown that damned competitiveness and came to accept that this is how their marriage works. It might not be the best out there but it’s theirs, and it’s good in its own way.
“Let’s eat.”
They talk as they tuck into their food, something Hux never imagined he’d be enjoying before. He of course read all Ren’s reports but he finds that he can learn more when he listens to Ren personally - even putting aside Ren’s dry wit and surprising thoughtfullness that you wouldn’t expect from someone walking around with a bucket on their head, there’s often more of what Ren shares with him than what makes it into the official logs. Tidbits of news and gossip from random edges of the Galaxy, loose ends that don’t interest Snoke in his grand scheme of searching for mystical artifacts, but Hux files them away onto the ever growing strategic map of the war in his mind. Hux sometimes wonders if Snoke knows that Ren shares more useful information with him than with his master.
Through their meal, Ren relaxes even more. That pent up energy, the simmering rage and lingering frustration at his self-perceived shortcomings he always carries back from a mission slowly leave his frame, gradually replaced by a different kind of tension. Hux suppresses a grin when he remembers that every time Kylo shifts in his seat, the plug in his arse pushes right against his sweet spot.
Which is why he isn’t suprised when Ren makes a show of putting the utensils down over still unfinished meal - something he’d never do otherwise. That large body of his has such calorie demands that he always wolfs down everything on his plate, uncaring of the taste.
“That was lovely but I’m rather full,” he smirks. “Aren’t you?”
Hux makes a show of folding his napkin properly and putting it aside. “I don’t know. I still have room for dessert.”
There aren’t any desserts on the table. Ren’s hopeful smile grows. “Right here?”
Hux had made sure that the lounge would be inaccessible from the outside for the entire night. If any of the officers ranking high enough to have the codes sufficient to override his lock would be actually as foolish as to use them, Hux would have no qualms to have them removed. He needed to prune out the competition every now and then anyway.
“Rright over there.”
Hux leads Kylo to a sofa set up facing the viewport. The stars outside are veiled in wispy clouds of colourful gas, a cooling remnants of an once bright supernova. Every now and then a stray dust particle, perhaps the last remnants of a planet, once massive and bursting with life but now obliterated by the explosion, streaks through the gas clouds. The friction on its path is just enough for it to light up as a tiny meteor, one last spark of glory before it burns completely. It’s beautiful, but Ren ignores the spectacle completely, his eyes never leaving Hux, and that’s even better.
The sofa is big enough for two and piled high with pillows. Hux pushes Ren to sit down, straddles his lap and proceeds to take off his clothes piece by piece. He takes utmost care with every hook and lace, torturously slow, treating every bit of exposed skin to an increasingly hungry kiss, and finally he spreads Ren’s knees and settles on his stomach between them.
It seems to have dawned on Ren exactly what kind of dessert Hux had in mind, because he takes his face in both hands, thumbs tracing gently across his cheekbones and over the corners of his mouth.
“You don’t have to.” Gentle, sincere. Still a little guilty.
Since they… started anew, found the middle ground, finally got their heads out of their respective arses - however you want to call the thing between them that blossomed barely four months ago - their time together had been filled with mutual exploration, very thorough, very eye-opening… and very slow. It was mainly Ren making them take it slow, and a part of Hux was really glad for it. Another part, though… really wants to make good memories, to overwrite the bad ones.
Before, Ren, in his own pride, did everything he could to turn Hux away from blowjobs for life. They still haven’t got around to work through his guilt on that one.
“I want to.” But not for the same reason as the last time, no. Last time, he wanted to see Ren crack, to finally break his self-control and bring him down to the same level of humiliating vulnerability that he was experiencing - but he doesn’t want that anymore. He doesn’t even need that, not since he learned that there’s nothing humiliating about vulnerability between them. This Ren already has his defences down for him, and he lies back and opens up with a trust that still takes Hux’s breath away sometimes.
So he takes his time, because now it’s his turn to go slow. Ren’s cock tastes clean and a little salty, and Hux likes the taste he finds at the tip, already wet and pearling with little drops of precome. He licks them away and watches more bubble up as he plays with the base of the plug, tugging and pushing it back inside with seemingly no rhythm at all. Ren is doing his best not to buck up and scare Hux off, not to even touch Hux’s hair - and the first is nice, but the latter absolutely will not do.
“Hold my hair?”
It’s not that long that it would seriously get in the way, but Hux wants to maintain eye contact, and he likes Ren’s hands on him - win-win.
With Ren’s hand where it belongs, tangled in his hair and lightly scratching along his scalp, Hux finally pops the head of Ren’s cock into his mouth and starts sucking. He tries to replicate everything he likes himself, plus a couple of tricks he only read about, keeping the back of his throat out of the way for now - judging by Ren’s breathy moans and a steady stream of encouragements, it’s more than enough. Ren had been on edge all evening, basically since Hux worked him up earlier in the corridors, and it’s barely taken any time before Hux notices Ren’s balls drawing up, the muscles of his stomach going taut–
–he fumbles, the hand playing with Ren’s balls slipping and tugging rather harshly, and he squeezes Ren’s cock just a tad too much as if startled. Ren lets out a loud groan of frustration before he remembers himself.
“It’s okay, love, it’s fine.” He strokes Hux’s hair as if it was his fault that his orgasm was ripped away just when he could almost taste it.
“Sorry,” Hux mumbles around his mouthful - it’s gone a little soft, but nothing he can’t suck back to full hardness in a matter of minutes. He’s giddy the thought that with his lips stretched like this, it’s impossible to grin and give himself away too soon. He can’t believe that something he only read about on holonet actually worked.
He dives back with doubled enthusiasm, pulling out the plug and replacing it with his fingers, crooked just the way Ren likes. They switch roles a lot, but in the end, Ren is still a bottom enthusiast. But contrary to before, Ren is now letting him prepare him and so Hux knows how to find his sweet spot and tease it until Ren sobs and begs.
It takes even shorter time than before to work Ren up into a mess, desperate with the need to come. This time, Hux dares to apply just the slightest graze of teeth - and it works exactly as the article said. He’s rewarded by a loud, breathy whine and Ren’s hips lifting uncontrollably from the pillow - which plays straight into his cards. Another fumbling tug and seemingly clumsy squeeze and Ren swears.
“Fuck! I was so close–” And then a spark of recognition makes it through the lust-addled haze in his eyes. He lifts his head to squint at Hux. “Are you…?”
Hux releases the cock from his mouth with a wet pop and a cheeky lick. “Trust me?”
Ren goes boneless, melting into the pillows, and throws an arm over his eyes with a heartfelt groan. “Stars save me.”
It’s not a no, and Hux grins and turns back to the job at hand. He always wanted to see if Kylo could come so hard he would break something unintentionally with the Force, and he wanted to have this lounge redecorated anyway. He also wanted to find out if he could enjoy sucking cock, and his plan is turning out splendidly.
Turns out, he loves giving head.
Turns out, it’s entirely possible to come in his pants just from the sight of Ren screaming as he comes so hard he blacks out for a minute.
Turns out, the lounge will definitely need redecorating.