The shower has only just gotten hot when Hux hears the door to his quarters hiss open. He jumps, nearly slipping on the wet floor of the cubicle. He dashes water from his eyes, casting about for a weapon. He’d left his blaster on the desk when he undressed, but he’d also triple-locked his door and turned on the security alarm system. No one should be able to enter without a dozen claxons going off and a platoon of armed guards appearing in the hallway.
“Who’s there!” he demands.
There’s no answer, only a soft tread and the shushing sound of moving clothes. Quite a lot of clothes, almost like--
He deflates, just as the ‘fresher door eases open and Kylo steps in, bundling his cape in his arms.
Hux pinches the bridge of his nose. “How did you get in here? I changed the code yesterday.” He’d changed it specifically to avoid this sort of nuisance.
“And then you spent ten minutes thinking about the new code at lunch.” Kylo is only recently helmetless, if the pink of his cheeks is any indication. His hair is disastrous. He’s already undoing the buttons down the front of his tunic.
“Oh,” says Hux. “Yes, of course. How stupid of me.”
Kylo nods. He peels his tunic off and drops it on the floor.
Hux eyes the pasty length of him, thick here with muscle, knotted there with scar. “I’m in no mood,” he lies.
Kylo doesn’t answer. He’s unbuckling his trousers and stepping out of his boots. “I’m tired,” he says instead, which isn’t an answer, except for how it is. Hux knows what ‘tired’ means. It means Kylo has spent the past week exhausting himself with an unnecessary gamut of emotion and activity, and feels he is entitled to a conjugal encounter to soothe himself into twenty-four hours of comatose sleep.
“I hate this,” Hux mutters, turning his back as Kylo gets into the shower next to him. It’s not a single-headed device, as the few others he’s had privilege to experience have been, but a whole square of ceiling that rains hot water like a waterfall. It’s a new addition to his quarters, a personal reward, and usually very relaxing. “I work very hard,” he tells the wall, reaching for the soap dispenser. “I deserve to enjoy my private time in peace.”
Kylo says nothing. Hux can feel him washing himself, turning and moving, his big feet bumping Hux’s. At one point, he yawns loudly, with a crack of jaw.
Hux scrubs himself quickly, refusing to turn around. Perhaps if he’s efficient and brisk, he can escape before Kylo--
Kylo’s hands land on his hips. They’re very large.
“Hnngh,” says Hux.
Kylo leans in close behind him and ducks his head into the curve of Hux’s neck. “You smell good.”
“Oh, shut up,” Hux mutters. He can’t help the way his pelvis tilts back into Kylo’s hands, his pulse pounding like a drum between his legs. The steam in the shower cubicle makes it hard to breathe. Kylo’s thumbs push into the dip of his back, one on either side of his spine. Hux gasps.
“Your back hurts.”
Hux isn’t sure if it’s a question or an observation. Kylo is good at finding his sore spots, both physically and metaphorically. He drops his forehead against the tile as Kylo rubs at the top of his pelvis, right where Hux has pinched a nerve more than once, right where he carries all the tension of good posture and the tender results of shoddy childhood scoliosis treatments. His breath catches in his throat. He can’t tell if he’s feeling pain or blistering arousal.
Kylo kisses the side of throat, open-mouthed, a bit toothy. His thumbs slide down Hux’s tailbone. “I want to eat you out,” he says.
Hux bites the inside of his cheek. “Have you gotten any better at it than last time?” It’s a bluff. Kylo isn’t actually bad at it, adept, if nothing else, at skimming what Hux does or doesn’t want from the surface of his thoughts.
“I guess you’ll have to tell me.”
One of Kylo’s hands moves back up Hux’s hip and comes around, low on his belly. The entire hot, wet length of his body is pressed along Hux’s back. Hux can feel the erection pushing into his thigh.
“Alright. I suppose.” He thinks he manages to keep his tone fairly level, all things considered.
Kylo’s hand slips down, through the hair on his belly, to cup the mound of his cunt. He pushes a finger between Hux’s labia to feel--
“You’re so wet,” he tells the corner of Hux’s jaw, mouthing at it.
Hux doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to say anything about the way having Kylo near him like this turns his knees into gelatin, his heart into a jackrabbit, and apparently his cunt into a greedy lake. Kylo probably hears it all directly from his mind anyway.
If he does, he has the spontaneous good grace not to comment. Instead, Hux feels him drop to his knees, and feels himself being turned by the hand on his thigh. He closes his eyes at the last second, leaning back against the wall, but opens them again when Kylo nuzzles into the hair below his navel, testing the sensitive skin there with his teeth. Hux slaps a hand to Kylo’s wet forehead. “Watch yourself.”
Kylo looks up at him without expression, water caught in his eyelashes and running down his cheeks. The whole terrible enormity of him kneeling on the floor between Hux’s feet, quiet and attentive, the breadth of his shoulders, the long slope of his back, the easy way he breathes… It’s exhilarating. Slowly, Hux moves his grip to the back of Kylo’s head.
Kylo drops his eyes. He runs his thumbs up between Hux’s thighs, kneading at him, and opens Hux’s cunt to expose him. Even the gentle rain of the shower running down over him is enough to make Hux groan. He puts a hand back against the wall to steady himself. He watches Kylo lean in and open his mouth over the slick pink ridge of Hux’s hard clit.
“Fuck,” Hux breathes. He can’t help himself. It’s that or scream. If he had another hand that wasn’t busy holding himself up or holding Kylo down, he’d bite his knuckles to keep himself quiet. Kylo makes a deep, appreciative sound against him. It rumbles right through Hux, making his toes curl. His hips flex up against Kylo’s face. He clenches his fingers in Kylo’s hair. “Suck me.”
Kylo obeys. His tongue dips into Hux’s slick opening, then slips up to rub at the delicate tip of him, sealing his mouth around it in a deep, languorous suckle. Hux’s thighs shake on either side of Kylo’s face. His clit twitches hard at how Kylo tongues it, over-sensitive and greedy for attention.
“Damn you,” Hux hisses, even though he doesn’t mean it, hardly knows what he means. He’s just angry , overwrought, incensed at how good it feels to be handled like this. He hasn’t masturbated in days, and it’s been much longer than that since they last fucked. His body is starved for it, lighting up at Kylo’s touch.
He barely needs to think about how he wants something in him before Kylo is obliging, nudging a finger up into him. It fits so easily, Hux’s cunt soaked and ready. He nearly demands another, but then Kylo crooks it inside him and that steals both his breath and his thoughts. He goes so rigid with sharp pleasure that his feet slip on the tile, but Kylo catches him with invisible hands and holds him upright, pressed back into the wall. There’s an ache in Hux’s pelvis, good and raw, as Kylo pushes his thighs further apart, shouldering in between them to get deeper. He hasn’t once lifted his mouth from its firm torturous suck.
Hux is going to come very soon. He can hardly believe it, except that it usually goes like this, Kylo offensively competent at obeying Hux’s silent desires. It’s a mortifying relief. Hux has never, in his whole life, said aloud what he would like to experience in bed. His partners have always been either too dominant to ask, too submissive to be capable, or too mercenary to care. Or he has been too embarrassed and haughty to bring it up. Asking a casual lover to spend fifteen minutes rubbing his feet and calves before sex, or to fuck him with a hand on his throat, or two fingers in his ass, has never crossed Hux’s mind as a viable option. With Kylo, he doesn’t need to say anything at all, and can always save face after the fact by implying that he allows these strange activities for Kylo’s sake.
He shoves up into Kylo’s mouth, panting, clawing at the base of Kylo’s skull. The water pouring down over them is nearly too much to bear on his hot skin. His heartbeat is thundering in his ears. He can feel it building.
“I’m--” he chokes.
Kylo hums into him again, petting inside him with that one finger. His tongue rubs back and forth over the head of Hux’s clit. It makes him want to cry out, but he can’t. His teeth and throat have seized shut.
It’s horrendous, when he comes. It’s more than he can take. Violence bursts through him with nowhere to go. He bangs his head back into the wall, sobbing, shaking. He rubs wildly into Kylo’s mouth, riding the strong, steady offering of his tongue until it becomes too much, too excruciating. He tips his hips away, miserable with pleasure, and blurts out a desperate plea when Kylo follows, still hungrily licking into him.
“Don’t, don’t--” He yanks at Kylo’s hair to pull him away, but Kylo ignores him. Hux feels an invisible grip seize his wrist to hold him still. “Ohhh, no, no,” he whispers. His head is pounding, dizzy. His clit throbs, cunt still wringing at Kylo’s finger. He whimpers when another one slips inside to join it and the gentle stroking becomes a firm thrusting. He thrashes in Kylo’s hold, cursing him. It doesn’t matter. He can’t get away.
“Fuck you,” Hux pants. “Fuck you, fuck--” It’s awful, it’s infuriating, but he’s going to come again. He can’t help it. Kylo’s fat, stupid mouth is going to make him. “I hate you,” he snarls, arching into the fast relentless stroke of Kylo’s fingers in him, the cruelty of his greedy suckling. His muscles lock tight. His vision whites out. He comes screaming between his teeth.
Afterward, Kylo lets him go, easing his fingers out one at a time. He takes his mouth off Hux’s clit, but holds him open just long enough to lean back in and kiss it once, fond, teasing.
Hux finds himself able to move again, and shoves Kylo away. “You bastard,” he pants. He steps around Kylo on shaky legs and gets out of the shower. He fumbles for a towel to pat at himself. He’s too ruined to do a good job, and totters into the other room still dripping. He hears the shower shut off. There’s no pause at all before Kylo catches him around the waist from behind, still soaking wet.
Hux growls, meaning it to be words but having none left. He goes helplessly limp in Kylo’s arms, lets himself be walked forward and pushed down onto the bed. He rolls over before Kylo can get on top of him, lying back with his legs haphazardly spread. Kylo’s face is flushed pink, his mouth swollen. He looks rabid. His cock is red and savagely hard between his thighs.
“God, no,” Hux says, still breathless, as Kylo pushes his legs apart to kneel between them, already taking himself in hand. He reaches out to brace against Kylo’s chest. “I’m much too sensitive, don’t you dare.”
Kylo stares at him. “You must be joking.” His voice is ragged. He wipes a wrist across his face, where Hux’s slick still glistens.
“I’m not. Don’t even think about it.”
Kylo looks from Hux to his own erection, his fist curled around the base. He’s aimed, ready. The sight of it makes Hux’s mouth water, the visceral memory of what that cock can and has done for him, but he keeps his palm flat on Kylo’s chest, on the heaving hard plane of it.
“Then suck me off,” Kylo says. He sits up a little, as though ready to climb over Hux’s chest and feed it to him. Hux flushes at that thought, too, and Kylo must notice because he begins to move forward.
“I don’t want to,” Hux says quickly. “Jerk off. Let me watch.”
Kylo’s eyebrows fly up. “What?”
“You heard me.” Hux slides his hand down Kylo’s chest, over his belly. He drops it between his own legs, and joins it with his other. He lets his thighs lay open farther, and parts his labia with both hands. “Here, you can look. That’s it.”
Kylo expression becomes aghast. His gaze darts from Hux’s face to his cunt. He’s getting even redder, which Hux knows is due partially to anger and partially to arousal. Kylo has jerked off just looking at his cunt before, begged to do it before they ever slept together. It had taken Hux aback severely at the time. He’d been briefly offended that Kylo was perhaps only indulging some bizarre fetish for his unlikely genitalia, with no intention of providing a more interactive service, but Kylo had caught that pang of humiliation and anger and been quick to assure Hux otherwise. It was only, he’d said, that he thought Hux beautiful and stern, and being allowed to look but not touch, to pleasure himself alone like a misbehaved pet, was exciting.
Hux had, after some deliberation, acquiesced. He ended up liking it nearly as much as Kylo had, the humiliation of exposing himself, the deferred gratification of waiting for his own pleasure, the look of hungry attention on Kylo’s face…
Kylo groans, long and whining. “Hux…”
“Yes or no.”
The decision is already made. Kylo’s hand is moving on his cock, curling up the length. “Fine. You bitch.”
Hux smirks. Kylo’s insults in bed don’t carry much sting. He has said some truly appalling things during sex, both insulting and self-debasing, asked Hux seemingly without shame to perform various surprising acts and some less-surprising roleplay, freely admitted his own lack of experience and his eagerness to learn, and offered little in the way of self pity or embarrassment if Hux refused him anything. He’s a remarkably versatile partner. Hux likes to remind him, sometimes, who’s boss.
He shifts to open himself a little more. He can feel how wet he is from Kylo’s mouth and his own orgasms. He deliberately clenches down on nothing, showing Kylo the flex of it, reminding him what his cock is missing. Kylo’s cock is big, and usually hurts going in at first. Hux knows how tight he is when they fuck, because Kylo has sobbed about it into his shoulder often enough, describing how his cock feels inside, what it reminds him of, what he thinks about it.
“You hurt my clit,” Hux murmurs, “sucking on it so much like that.”
Kylo glances up at him, a tick of a frown between his brows. Hux ignores him. He uses one finger to carefully pull up the hood, showing Kylo the softened nub of his clit. “Look how red it is. It’s so sensitive.” He doesn’t want to touch it, it is too sensitive, but he makes as though he’s going to, and only curls his fingers away at the last second. Kylo groans, fist speeding up on his cock. He has been devoted to Hux’s clit from the very start. Hux has sometimes thought about letting him kneel under the desk while he works to idly suckle at him. He thinks about that now, in loud and specific detail, how he would let Kylo taste him, maybe with just the tip of his tongue, maybe only once every few minutes. No penetration, no orgasm, just a bit of nuzzling to take the edge off.
Kylo’s miserable whine tells him he’s seeing the whole scene in intimate detail.
“I guess you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Hux says. “Being useless. Not much of a change of pace.”
Kylo glares at him, but the twist of his palm on the head of his cock gets a little more frantic. He’s so aroused his foreskin is pulled back tight to the shaft, the tip of his cock wet. He’s bright red from cheekbones to balls.
Hux arches his back. Nothing shameless, nothing sultry, just a little stretch to ease his muscles. “I know how badly you want it, you beast. Just like any other dog, all you want to do is shove your cock anywhere it will fit.” His tone is almost conversational, but even he can hear the tremor under the words. He doesn’t want to come again, probably couldn’t even if he did, but the sight of Kylo leaned over him like this, big-dicked and eager and surly, turns his spine to jelly. If he weren’t so over-sensitive, if Kylo hadn’t overstepped like that in the shower…
“Oh, fuck this,” Kylo says. He drops forward.
“No--” Hux yelps. But abruptly, he can’t move. His hands are locked in position, holding himself open for Kylo to-- He gasps as the head of Kylo’s cock pushes between his stiff fingers and slots against his hole. He’s so wet it nudges right inside, catching at the flare of the head and then past. “Oh, god ,” he gasps, when the stretch of the shaft starts. His feet can move, and they pound the bed as Kylo sinks into him. “Fuck you, don’t .”
But he doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t. Not nearly as much as he wants Kylo inside him now that he’s gotten a taste, and Kylo knows it. He bottoms out, leaning down over Hux, bracing his forearms on the bed.
“Be quiet, you little whore,” he pants. “You want me to fuck you. Look at you holding yourself open for me.”
Hux grits his teeth. He still can’t move his hands. He can feel Kylo flexing against him, getting comfortable, getting deep. His cunt wrings at the thickness of him. He moans, biting his tongue.
Kylo moans back. He turns his head and finds Hux’s mouth. At first, Hux refuses to kiss him, but Kylo is used to that. He sucks at Hux’s bottom lip, bites it, slips his tongue over Hux’s clenched teeth. His hips start to move, no slow escalation of speed, just a forceful shoving that moves Hux up the bed. He gasps, and Kylo’s tongue slips into his mouth. He can’t resist, after that. He opens his mouth and lets Kylo tongue fuck him in time to the thrusting of his cock.
It doesn’t take long. Kylo was already on the edge before he’d gotten inside, and he’s infamously incapable of lasting long once his cock is sheathed anywhere tight and warm.
“I know, I know,” Kylo moans against him. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you feel so good. If only you could feel this, it’s--” He breaks off, strangled, when Hux squeezes down on him.
“Get it over with,” Hux hisses. He lifts his hips as best he can to open himself more, let Kylo in deeper.
“Oh,” Kylo gasps. “Ohhhh…” His thrusting stutters. He rams in once, twice, three times, and pauses there with his cock wedged, it feels, into Hux’s liver. It flexes inside, jerking out come, pressing against the sensitive places he’d been touching with his fingers only minutes ago. Hux feels it trickling out over his own fingers. There’s quite a lot of it.
“Have you not jerked off since we fucked last?” he asks, while Kylo is still groaning out his orgasm into Hux’s neck.
“I-- I-- no?” He sounds incoherent, drugged. He thrusts gently a couple more times, shivering. “Oh, I love you,” he says.
Hux rolls his eyes at the ceiling. He is so glad he got permanently sterilised when he was fourteen.