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The Lieutenant

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The Lieutenant


            Kylo Ren feels a pressure threatening tear apart the 24-year-old like a Force storm. This pressure comes from weeks of backbreaking training from his Master, which he is grateful for, but his mind is threatening to snap while his fingers are crackling with kinetic energy.

There’s really only one cure for this state: sex.

Lots and lots of sex.

However, the problem is that he’s currently stuck aboard Eclipse while his Lambda is going under repairs, so he can’t leave without requesting permission from General Eclipse.

I’d have to beg and she’d still say no. She probably wouldn’t if I told her that I was Vader’s grandson, but then I would have to kill her and Master isn’t in the mood of replacing any more officers. Plus, she’s too busy entertaining the Old Man and his crew from Absolution.   

He turns on his side and looks at the charred helmet of his grandfather on his nightstand.

Grandfather would have gotten a ship with no questions raised, but I’m not grandfather. I need to be……clever. Maybe I can dress up like one of the technicians and seduce one of them or an officer. No one on this ship is my type, but beggars can’t be–

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Great, Eclipse found out that I blew out the conditioning unit; it wasn’t like that unit was to her floor!

Kylo pulls himself out of bed and puts on a robe to hide his partial nudity. He stomps against the metal grate to let loose some of his anger so he won’t Force-choke the General. He puts in the codes to unlock his door and is greeted with a complete stranger. This stranger has red hair with the FO black hat resting on top of the glossy shell. From the four code cylinders hanging across his chest like blaster ammo, the stranger is a lieutenant. A lieutenant with a deep green duffle bag hanging off his left shoulder like a purse. There is a dusting of pink across his otherwise pale face.

“May I sleep with you, sir?”

Who is he? I’ve never seen him on the ship before. Oh, he must be one of Borrum’s aides, so he won’t be here for too long.  

“What is your name, lieutenant?”

“Lieutenant Armitage Hux, sir!”

Hux? Hux……I know a Commandant with that surname went into retirement like a decade ago and hasn’t been heard from since. This must be his son, his bastard son. Why would he want to sleep with me? Is he confusing me with someone else?

“Do you know who I am, Lieutenant Hux?”

“You’re Lord Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren.”

Nope. He clearly wants my favor, probably had a fallen out with the Old Man and couldn’t sex his way out of it. So he thinks by having sex with me that he’ll win me over and I’ll put in a good word with the Supreme Leader to save his career. Grandfather would’ve killed him for such insolence, but I’m not grandfather!

“You can sleep with me.” Hux smiles, and Kylo nearly smiles back.

“Thank you very much, sir.” He’s so committed to the blushing virgin act, but he’ll probably turn into the perfect bedmate in another hour or so.

“Do you need the ‘fresher?”

“Oh, yes, I do need to freshen up for the night.”

“The ‘fresher is down the hall first door to the left; the bedroom is right by it.” He watches as Hux departs for the ‘fresher.

His ass is small, but firm. Perfect for spanking!

He heads to his bedroom and sees the charred remains of his grandfather’s helmet; the broken eye sockets burn him with their impossible judgement. He decides to put the helmet away in its case and hides the case in the closet.

Should I just lounge on top of the bed like a tusk-cat, au-natural? Or should I pretend to be doing some flimsi-work on the desk and let him draw my attention? Perhaps, I should pretend to be sleeping?

He looks at the chronometer on his desk: 2100.

No, it’s too early for bed, but I could be leisurely reading. Maybe he’ll do something coy like pluck the book from my hands and suggest that I should be reading his private derrière!

He opens the nightstand’s drawer and looks at his book selection: The Book of Sith, The Enchantment of Chivalry and Fashion: Naboo’s Medieval Monarchy, and Maxiron Agolerga’s Fairy Tale Theater.

I should choose the first one; it would be expected of me to read it. However, Master has been making me read that so much lately. And I doubt a Force-null like him would care for such a book. The second one wouldn’t appeal anyone raised by an old-school Imperial like the Commandant, even though the Imperials were more extravagant than the royal family of Naboo. But the final one would be the worst because what grown man would read this unless they have a kid. I know I’ll switch it with the Sidious’s book before he comes into the room!

And so Kylo chooses the favorite, pale pink tome of Ben Organa Solo’s childhood and snuggles down into his pile of decorative pillows. For thirty minutes, there’s utter silence in Kylo’s mind. No rattling of pipes and vents. No rasps of his Master. No buzzing of the Force.


“So which tale are you on?” Kylo quickly looks up and sees Hux standing in the door frame. Unfortunately, he’s clothed and not very sexily.

Where does “Make way for the Homo-Superior” come from? Why are his feet so pink? And who wears plaid pants in this day and age!?

“‘Veré and Set.’” He mumbles and looks down like he was caught praying to Shiraya by Skywalker.

“Is it your favorite?”


“It is very poetical, much better sung in my humble opinion.”

“………What’s yours?”


“…………Your favorite tale?” Good job, Kylo, you sound like the awkward virgin you were!

“‘The Little Diathim.’”

“Really?” That story is more religious than Veré and Set, and that one had Shiraya granting them immortality for their devotion to each other and to Her.

“Mmm-hmm!” His watery blue eyes warm into sea glass. “I love how he sacrificed his wings, royal birthright, and his life just so the human prince could be happy with someone else. And there’s no guarantee for the afterlife for him after all that.”

“They. You mean they.” Oh, yeah, because being a pedantic asshole is such a powerful aphrodisiac!

“I’m going by the Futhark edition, which allows the reader to choose the genders of the characters in the tales.”

“Oh…….I just have the Aurebesh.”

“I can tell; Basic is a simpler, stricter language compared to Naboo.”

“………….It was the only one I could get at the time.”       

“It is the most widespread version outside of Naboo, but a lot quirks of Naboo get lost in translation.”

“How do you know Naboo?” It had to be from someone born and raised there because even with Threepio’s help; I still have a noticeable accent with native speakers and my Futhark calligraphy is barely legible, but I did master Futhork.

“I was a sickly child stuck on water-cursed Arkanis, so all I could do was study in the dry indoors. My father was my Merlyn, and I was a happy Wart!”

Does he mean the bird? Or is it a fish? And why does he call himself a wart? Did he have warts growing up? How does his father being some kind of animal make him a wart? I don’t get it!

“……….Did he teach any more languages?”

“He taught me Ancient Sith and Basic. I actually learned Ancient Sith first and then Naboo; Basic was nothing!” Why would a commandant need to learn Ancient Sith!? Was he secretly advising the Emperor? Like Gallius Rax?

“…..So just those threes?”

“He planned to teach me Modern Sith, but…” Hux trails off; his eyes darkening into faraway oceans. “It’s in the past.”

“And the past should die.” Kylo echoes his Master’s wise words by heart, while Hux flicks those distant eyes at him.

“Then, how will we ever learn?”

“Um, from fairy tales?” Hux smiles and walks towards the bed; he slips into the dark sheets. His pale skin practically glows like moonlight contrasting the inky void of everything.

“Then, let’s educate ourselves.”

Hux scooches and bumps their shoulders together; Kylo can smell the mint in the ginger’s hair.



Kylo wakes up and finds his bed empty of the ginger. He glances at the chronometer on the nightstand and it flashes: 0900. He stares at it for a few seconds in utter disbelief.

I haven’t been able to sleep this late in years because Jedi had to be up at 0600, and with Master I can be up earlier than that depending on his will. And I only really sleep this late after a night of sex, which I haven’t had in weeks!

Hux, who requested to sleep with him, performed no sexual acts on him or on himself; they had a chaste night of reading fairy tales like they were children. And Kylo doesn’t feel angry as he should have, but he still feels sexually frustrated.

It’s not like anyone on the ship needs me, and Master won’t be giving me missions until he’s done teaching my knights. So I could masturbate all day if I wanted to. But I won’t need to because Hux will fulfill his word tonight and I’ll make sure of that! So I’ll just devote an hour to it and then make breakfast, practice my forms, meditate before grandfather, do some laundry...

It isn’t until 1900 that Kylo meets up with Hux again.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Kylo quickly washes his hands and then takes off his apron, flinging it onto the counter by the flour-encrusted rolling pin. He reaches the door and puts in his code to unlock it; it slides open, and his nose twitches at the strange display before him.

Hux’s uniform wrinkles with every breath he takes, while black liquid seeps from his hair and further stains his dark uniform. He’s twisting the bottom of his coat like a kid caught hiding the broken cookie jar. Yet, he looks at him with wide-eyed confusion.

“Why is there flour in your hair?”

“Why are you covered in oil!?” And not the massage kind; the kind that Threepio used to bathe in. Bright side is that there’s no way of salvaging that uniform, so maybe he’ll waltz around naked around here.

“Well, you see…” Hux’s cheeks turn pink and looks down at his dull boots. “General Borrum thought it would be interesting to see how well the aides could do in an emergency. So he had each of us lieutenants lead a squad of Stormtroopers in putting out a simulated fire in the hangar….”

The pink turns into a shameful, scarlet color.

“When my turn came, there was a mix-up in the hoses and instead of fire retardant; it was oil. Luckily, my squad found the right hose and the fire was contained; General Eclipse called me over to congratulate me for handling such a surprising development, and……..”

He hangs his head and shakes it back and forth.

“There was still oil on the floor, and I slid and couldn’t stop myself. And then….I fell face first into the General’s breasts.”

Kylo claps both hands over his mouth to prevent himself from further humiliating the shamefaced lieutenant.

“……The other lieutenants and captains looked so terrified, while the Stormtroopers stared at us with their expressionless yet judging helmets…..I got off the General. She gave everyone this scary glare that promised death to anyone who laughed. When it was all over, I got a congratulatory pat on the back by General Borrum. I tried to shower, but I had to get out of there when the other aides started asking me really embarrassing question….It was like I was trapped in one of those cartoons, but I didn’t get beaten with a frying pan...”

“…………You wouldn’t happen to have something stronger than First Order-issued shampoo/conditioner?”

“I’ll draw you a bath.” He heads to the storage closet and pulls out his portable tub, a copper antique that he stole from the burning Temple. He goes into his bathroom, turns the shower knob to hot, and fills up the tub. He then scours through the medicine cabinet housing his beauty collection. He chooses his bath oil worth a queen’s ransom that smells like starblossoms and pours a generous amount in the tub; he then searches for shampoo and conditioner that will make Hux’s hair shine brighter than two suns.

When Kylo comes out, he nearly collides with the lieutenant and sees that he’s  out of his uniform, but still very much clothed. Long, green, stretchy sleeves cover Hux’s entire body like he’s about to go diving in the Silver Sea.  

“I thought it’d be best if I got out of my ruined uniform; I don’t envy the laundry droid who has to clean it!”  

“Do you have another?”

“Oh, yes. I always bring two with me in case something happens.” He says it so casually like it happens all the time.   

“Do you know how to bathe?”

“Don’t worry I won’t waste all of your hot water; I’ll be out in a few minutes!” Hux practically sing-songs, which prevents Kylo from frowning at the dulcet tones.  

“That would be a no.” He gestures with his pointer and middle fingers on his right hand, a subtle order that the lieutenant follows. “I will teach you.”

“But what about your meat?”


“I could smell you cooking meat with a sweet marinade to it.” 

“No, you’re smelling the zoochberry pie baking; it should be done in another thirty minutes.” Hux’s blue eyes light up like lightning.

“Will there be caf?”


“Caf as black as midnight on a moonless night?”


“May I have some?”

“Of course.” My plan was to seduce him over dessert, but that bath will bum it up and then the dessert will be our fuel for later activities.

Hux smiles with a childish purity that almost makes Kylo rethink his plan, but his Master had stressed to him that conviction was needed to fulfill his grandfather’s legacy. And considering everything he has done, he knows that he has the conviction to fulfill such a simple need.

They make it to the ‘fresher in a matter of seconds, but each second feels like an hour because Kylo isn’t certain of Hux’s conviction in the matter. But the lieutenant offers no answer and simply cocks his head to the side.

“Huh, I never thought I’d see one of those again.”

“A tub?”

“Yeah, the portable kind. I used to bathe in those a lot when I was living with my uncle, except ours was more like barrel...”

“Your file doesn’t mention an uncle.”

“The FO only care about blood relatives.” Hux points out with a sharp smirk. “And my file has a couple of time gaps, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” From about the age of five until his entrance into the Academy at ten, and then another at 19 to 21. Did the Commandant had those times expunged?

“I was being raised by my uncle in the first one and the second one was….” Hux’s eyes darken and his lips threaten to frown. “An attempt at altruism.”

“Did you succeed?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if I had.” The mysterious emotion is swept under the rug by a cheeky grin. Hux then walks over to the tub and sticks a finger in, letting out a content purr.

“I thought foxes bark.” Kylo eyes widen at the Solo-brand dry sarcasm leaving his mouth, but Hux grins back like his m–Leia would have.

“I had a cat once; she taught me the art of purring.” And before Kylo could inquire further, Hux hops into the tub and spills some of the clear water onto metal floor.

“Were you hoping to splash me?”

“Maybe.” Hux’s grins like a smug tooka; he then folds down and purrs once more. “What really needs washing is my hair; I don’t think my hair gel took to the oil.”

Did he really need this conservative swimsuit to get his point across? Does he believe that I won’t take “no” for an answer? I’m not a complete monster! Or is he ashamed of his body? He’s lithe, while I heard rumors that the Commandant was built like a brickhouse. So did he develop an inferiority complex because of the Commandant? If I ask him any of this, he’d probably get out of the tub and leave oil on my pillows. Or, worse, he’ll leave and never come back.

Hux cups some water and pours it onto his head with a pop. Kylo lathers his hands in the sink with the gingerbell shampoo and goes to work. He scrubs Hux’s head, cleaving the dead skin and oil trapped in gel amber. To his credit, Hux doesn’t cry out or protest the harsh treatment; he takes it with a hum and a wince.

“Are you okay?” Kylo pauses and strategically checks out Hux’s crotch; there’s no hard lump, and he figures it’s because Hux isn’t turned on by pain.

“Yes. You know my father did this for me, washing my hair just like this. He had such lovely hair; it fell like an avalanche.” So the Commandant went bald? Or is he really bad at poetry?

“I used to wash my mother’s hair.” Kylo nearly smacks himself for unconsciously saying the one thing that would certainly kill this seduction.

“Really? I did that whenever father and I shared a bath, but that was when the Empire was around…”

“You must have been five when the Empire finally gave up.” Hux nods, eyes still closed, and lips indicting nothing.

“You weren’t around for it, but I wasn’t really either after I went to live with my uncle.”

“I was born shortly after its last cry.”

“Really? I thought you were like twenty.”

“I’ll be twenty-five in another six standard months.” Kylo grabs the tin cup from his shower and fills it with lukewarm water. “I’m going to rinse you off and then put in the conditioner, so keep your mouth closed.”

Hux nods, and Kylo does as he promises.

“Don’t rinse the conditioner off for five minutes.”

“Thank you for your care, but I can handle it from here.” I’m picking up some anxiety in his aura, so maybe he is ashamed of his body. Kylo grabs the shuura-scented body wash from the floor and tosses it to Hux, but Hux fails to catch it and the bottle plops into the water.

“Revenge from earlier?” The lieutenant teases with a show of his slightly crooked teeth.

“My revenge won’t be that simple.”

Kylo leaves Hux alone and spends the next ten minutes watching the pie bake as he cleans the rolling pin, and then another ten making coffee while the pie cooled. He pulls out two porcelain plates from the cabinet above the tiny sink; he pulls the pie knife from the utensil drawer and cuts into the pie.

The golden-brown crust crinkles at the cut and red seeps from the mortally wounded zoochberries; he places a piece on each plate. He takes the silver pot and pours the black coffee into pastel red teacups. He lays the sugar jar and cream on the table when Hux appears.

At least he’s not wearing the plaid pants, but the shirt still confuses me. Why are there hands in ball gown gloves grasping a woman’s emotionless face in a sea of digital blue?

“Was I supposed to dress more fanciful?”

“Did you have anything other than your uniform and sleepwear?”

“Well, no, but I could’ve made up my hair.” Thank the Dark Side you didn’t; it’s like fire is licking the tips of his sharp shoulders. He looks years younger without that awful gel!

“Not necessary since I’m dressed informally.”

“You’re dressed like the cozy boyfriend in romantic holos, Lord Ren.” Hux raises a thick eyebrow at Kylo’s black sweater and black trousers.

“Oh, please, their outfits cost thousands of credits; mine cost me nothing.” Technically true, since all the fabric came from the repossessed property of pirates that crossed the FO.

“You must’ve been a tailor in your previous life.” Kylo nearly grins from ear to ear at the sounds of Hux’s grumbling stomach.

“Perhaps, a baker.” Hux scratches the floor as he pulls his chair in and grabs his fork. He takes a bite and smiles like the happiest fool in an imaginary castle.

“Savory, yet sweet like a candied heart.”

“Thank you, but it’s all the work of the zoochberries.” Kylo then places the teacup before him. Hux inhales and sighs with utter pleasure. He puts three cubes of sugar in the caf, but completely ignores the cream. He stirs the caf like it’s a cauldron brewing spells.

“This truly the best meal I’ll have all year.”

“There’s more than enough for leftovers if you have a fridge to store it.”

“I do!”

“Then, the rest of the pie is yours.”

“Thank you so much, Lord Ren!”

Kylo smiles and takes the seat across from him. He partakes in his minor masterpiece and basks in Hux’s pleasure, forgetting about the seduction.


Kylo wakes up alone again and wonders if all lieutenants have to be up before their generals to attend to their every need like manservants of Old Naboo.

If I ask Master, maybe I’ll get a lieutenant of my own. But do I really need one? I prefer cooking all my meals, leading my squad of Stormtroopers, and speaking with my Master; I don’t need anyone for those. However, I could use one to do all the boring meetings with the officers and officials, so I’d be free to do what I want. But isn’t that what I’m doing now? Master has it that way so I can have time to fulfill grandfather’s legacy.  

He eyes the closet where his grandfather’s helmet resides; he’s always been careful to hide it when Hux was in his quarters. He doubts that the lieutenant would be open-minded to him having the remains of Darth Vader.

Grandfather had an aide-de-camp, Diane Jir, and trusted him. Jir could be as blunt as he wanted with grandfather so long as it was the truth. Maybe I should have one of those since it seems that the rank has fallen out of style here. But is there someone I trust enough for that?

The question follows him for the rest of the day and midway through the night. A quarter to 2300, Kylo has just put away his grandfather when Hux returns. He left the door unlock, figuring that when Hux didn’t return at 1900, then he’ll return much later. The lieutenant shambles into the quarters like a Korriban zombie with flushed cheeks and the pungent aroma of alcohol.

Hux doesn’t look at him, doesn’t take off his boots, and plunges face first into the queen’s center. Kylo waits with bated breath for the telltale snore, but Hux muffles an explanation.  

“Sorry…General threw a party….lot of drinking….General drank us under the table. Impressive for the man of his….age.” Hux turns on his side and faces him. “I can’t hold my liquor, but Hodnar can.”

“…….Do you want me to get a trash can?”

Hux shakes his head violently for a moment before slowing down to a less nauseating speed.

“Do you want to change?” Hux nods and pulls himself from the bed. Kylo uses the Force to float over his bag and sets it on the bed. He even has the courtesy to unzip it. Hux’s hands still at the bag and looks at him with watery eyes.

“….I’ll wait outside the door, holler when you’re done.” Kylo waits outside for ten minutes and listens intently for a fall, but thankfully none occurred.

“LORD REN!” Hux shouts like he’s on the brig during an attack. Kylo steps in and sees that Hux is wearing his sleepwear from last night; his uniform is neatly folded on top of the bag in the corner of the room.

I guess you can’t take the soldier out of a drunk!

“Lord Ren, would y-you do me the honor of repaying your kindness?”

“Hux, you’re drunk.” I won’t have sex with anyone drunk; there’s no consent, and I’d get puked on.

“I want to offer you–”

“Look, we can do that when you’re sober!”

“An invitation to stay in my quarters on the Absolution.”


“You’ve been so kind for letting me stay here.”


“When the conditioning unit broke on the guest floor, most of the other aides shacked up with Eclipse’s, but I didn’t want to.” His blush increases by square meters. “I heard about you and wondered if there was any truth to the rumors.”


“Everyone says you’re capricious and brutish.” Hux smiles like the drunken fool he is. “But you’ve been so kind and cultured!”


“So I would be honor if I could return your kindness.” Hux does a half-bow like he’s before a prince and not his military superior.  


Hux smiles brightly, and Kylo swears that his heart skips a beat.



“Go to bed.”

“Yes, sir!”


Kylo spends the rest of the night watching Hux, making sure that the ginger doesn’t vomit on the bed or, possibly, choke on his own vomit. Last thing he wants is the lieutenant’s death.

So sex was never on the table. Of course, I had no chance. Hux’s a consummate officer; he wouldn’t sleep with a brutish rogue like me. Yet, he said all those nice things about me. And conversed with me like an equal instead of like I was an apprentice or a problem. All he wanted was my companionship.

Kylo turns away from Hux and looks towards the closet.  

And he invited me into his home if you can call that Star Destroyer a home. I could move in and stay there for a couple of months if Master allows it. It’s not like there’s anything for me to do here, and he’ll approve since he’s too busy with the rest of the knights.

Kylo turns back to face Hux forming a puddle of drew onto the perfumed pillow.  

It wouldn’t be bad to have a companion.