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Hux strokes a calming hand across the expanse of bare skin before him, from the surprisingly soft buttock to the toned waist and up the rapidly widening back to the broad, muscular shoulder and back again. He has just sunk himself to the hilt into Kylo and is savoring the moment, steadying his breath and building up the anticipation for the first proper thrust. Underneath him Kylo tenses and squirms. He closes his eyes and Hux can tell he's willing himself to relax. He bends over to plant a kiss on Kylo's shoulder, and another to the nape of his neck.
"Hux," Kylo whines. "Hux, you gotta -"
“All in good time, darling. All in good time.”
Hux pulls himself almost completely out of Kylo and pauses again. This is the best part of their trysts, hovering on the precipice of pleasure. Hux does find similar excitement in being right on the brink of a battle. Considering their history, one is very much like the other. Hux huffs a quiet laughter at the thought and shushes Kylo’s whimpering protest. The Knight has never had much patience for anything but Hux is determined to teach him.
Hux waits until the wait becomes almost too much to bear and begins the long, slow thrust back inside and Kylo is already clawing the sheet, mouth open in a silent scream. Hux pulls back again, this time preparing to slam home. He grabs Kylo's shoulder with one hand and takes a firm grip of his hair with the other, a grunt building up in his throat - and the alarm goes off.
It blares for a grand total of four seconds before something Kylo does reduces it into a squeak and then silences it. He clenches around Hux tightly enough to make Hux hiss and punch his arm.
"Kylo!"
"No."
"Kylo."
"Fine."
Kylo floats Hux's commlink close but not so close Hux could grab it without some amount of undignified flailing. Hux slaps Kylo's butt, hard, and then runs a soothing hand over the angry red palmprint as he answers the comm.
"Hux here."
His fingers are kneading the flesh of Kylo's hip idly when he listens to the rapidly speaking officer on the other end, hips moving in shallow thrusts, slowing down and stopping completely after a while. Kylo begins to buck underneath him, fucking himself on Hux’s cock, face contorted in a determined scowl.
"Are they identified? No? Have you commed them?"
He goes soft and slides out of Kylo, ignoring his protesting noises.
"How many ships? I will be there presently." He tosses the commlink on the bed, gets up and grabs his tank top from the neat pile on the chair beside it. Kylo is still lying on his stomach, head turned away
"I have to go, darling. You know that."
Kylo turns on his side, winces and shuffles to sit on the edge of the bed, then holds out his hand for support. "I know," he says when Hux helps him up. He doesn't let go immediately but runs his thumb over Hux's knuckles and squeezes lightly. No further words are necessary. They are at war and war dictates their schedules. Still, at the door Kylo reels Hux in for a short but passionate kiss. They never part without one if the circumstances allow it. They are at war and the threat of each meeting potentially being their last may go unspoken, but it’s never forgotten.
Hux is still buttoning up his jacket as he makes his way down the corridor. Kylo goes the other way, towards the hangar bay and his Silencer. Hux gets up on the bridge and only then realizes he’s left his belt behind, his jacket is buttoned wrong and his hair is all over the place.
Let them see, he thinks. Let them speculate. Out loud, he barks: "Hail them! Audio only!" He waits for the affirmative signal from the comms station and despite knowing the enemy will not see him, widens his stance and stands up taller. "This is General Hux of the First Order. You will stand down immediately and leave this space. If you fail to comply you will be destroyed. This is your first and last warning."
The only answer he gets is a warning call from the pit. The enemy is about to fire. Hux's skin tingles as if a small flame is running over his body, his nostrils flare and his world condenses into single focus: his bridge, his weapons, his enemy. He sees the bolt of energy approaching in slow motion, knows before giving the order that the shields are up, and the cannons are trained at the enemy, in the hangar bays the TIE pilots are scrambled and ready to fly. This is a different sort of arousal, the release of it coming in the form of cannon fire hitting home, bringing the enemy to its knees, in his crew's seamless work, the inevitable victory.
The Finalizer barely rocks at the impact, her shields and sturdy hull easily absorbing the energy of the volley. Hux is slightly disappointed, as if he's once again robbed of the pleasure of the first, glorious thrust. Suddenly his frustration peaks. Orders start spilling from his lips. He intends to finish this as soon as possible and return to his quarters - or Kylo's, whichever is closer at hand - to finish what he started there. How dare the enemy disturb his private moment, steal away his pleasure and only give this subpar performance in return?
A squadron of TIEs appear from under the Finalizer just as Hux gives the order to return fire. He doesn't remember authorizing that but then he sees the Silencer among them and swallows his question. An image surfaces, of Kylo sitting in his cockpit, still slick and wet and open, at least half-hard because Hux knows how much he relishes a battle, be it on the ground, in atmo or in space. He wonders if Kylo would have worn a plug if he'd asked, or would it be too much of a distraction.
He tries to rub the flush off his face with his hand and quickly sends the rest of the TIEs out for support. The enemy has one capital ship, two smaller cruisers and only a handful of starfighters - how they ever thought to challenge any of the First Order ships is beyond Hux.
Finalizer's cannons take out one of the cruisers, the TIEs are engaging the fighters, but the sturdy capital ship is proving to be a challenge after all. Hux would be happier if he could withdraw just a smidgeon to properly be out of its weapon’s range but as long as Kylo is out there he won't. Hux knows how he looks, cheeks flushed, clothes in disarray, his breathing shallow and eyes bright. The battle plays out outside the viewports and in his mind, a constant stream of possible outcomes, his arsenal and strategies at his disposal.
He's living on the edge and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Someone once asked him what he'd do when the war was over. He gave some blasé answer but that thought sometimes keeps him up at night. He's well matched with Kylo, as the Knight is with Hux, both of them yearning for the adrenaline and the catharsis of a battle, be it with the enemy or in the bedroom.
The second cruiser dissolves into debris and oxygen and crew. Hux directs the gunners to aim at the larger pieces hurtling towards them. He sees his opening when a major section of its hull hits the capital ship but so does Kylo, taking his squadron in too fast and too close to its remaining weapons. Hux just manages to snap his mouth shut before ordering a direct hit to the enemy's compromised shields. He doesn't kick a nearby console and curse in rage and frustration. Instead he presses his lips into a thin line and clasps his hands behind his back
The enemy ship - falters, and shudders, and the entire battle seems to grind to a halt - and then it cracks and explodes. It takes several of the smaller starfighters on both sides with it as it bursts. Hux runs to the viewport and takes a hold of the rail, squeezing it until his knuckles go white. The field of debris expands rapidly and Hux ought to get his own ship to safety, order the TIEs back, prepare for the debrief, a thousand things, but his mind's gone blank and his ears a ringing and if the crew didn't know before they certainly know now -
- for three long minutes there is no sign of Kylo -
- and then - and Hux is going to strangle him, he's going to fuck him raw in every hole and then strangle him and kick him in the balls and kiss him until he passes out - then the Silencer emerges, jumping in from kriffing hyperspace against the backdrop of the dying enemy vessel.
Hux's knees nearly buckle and he's forgotten to breathe because his lungs ache when he begins again. He sees the flicker of fear on Peavey’s face when he puts two and two together, just like he has seen every eye roll and a look of disdain, heard every disparaging comment the Captain has uttered, and made a record of all of them.
The Silencer swerves around the debris and makes an unnecessary loop past the bridge viewports. Hux leaves the mopping up to the bridge crew and as soon as he's certain he's in full command of his body leaves for his quarters. Kylo can find him there when he's done showing off.
Hux doesn't have to wait for long. His door slides open and Kylo strides in, already tugging his tunic open, his trousers obviously tented. Hux crosses the floor in three strides to meet him, still dithering between stabbing and rawing him but all thought is lost to the hungry, growling kiss Kylo pulls him in.
Hux can hear a seam ripping when Kylo paws at his clothes but he's beyond caring. He backs Kylo against a wall and crowds him, pulls his hair and bites when lips and tongue are not enough. Somehow in the mayhem Kylo has lost his tunic and undershirt so Hux does what he needs, he latches on to Kylo's collarbone and sucks a bruise on it, both to mark his territory and to prove himself that Kylo is alive, they both are, having survived yet another battle.
Hux is freed from his tunic and Kylo's hands are under his tank top, dragging fingernails against his skin. "Off, off, off," he chants, pulling Hux's waistband with one hand and trying to get the other inside Hux's jodhpurs to get to his cock. They are forced apart for the excruciatingly long time it takes to ditch boots and pants. The second they are naked they are pressed together, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hand to cock, biting, clawing, pinching.
Hux starts to walk Kylo towards the bed. Once they get there Kylo takes over, turns them around and pushes Hux until the backs of his knees hit the bed and keeps advancing until Hux is lying on his back. Kylo crawls over him, predatory and graceful, teeth bared, his hair falling over his face in sweaty tresses. He’s beautiful. He always is, but in these moments when Hux can’t tell if he’s going to murder him of fuck him senseless he’s almost god-like, a transcendental being Hux is privileged to be allowed to bend to his will.
Kylo is straddling him now, his heavy weight resting on Hux’s hips. His cock is trapped between Kylo’s thighs and he ruts up to him, unable to stop himself from seeking friction. Kylo leans forwards and for a moment Hux thinks he's coming in for another kiss, but he reaches behind him and takes a firm hold of Hux's aching cock. Without a word or any preamble, he begins to pierce himself on it. He's still just as slick and open as Hux imagined. He arches off the bed, pulling out all of his mental reserves not to move, to let Kylo descend at his own pace.
They both groan when Hux is fully sheathed. Kylo doesn't share Hux's taste for anticipation and sets a brutal pace right from the beginning, bouncing on Hux’s cock, his powerful legs making an easy work of it. He's utterly gorgeous, towering over Hux like that, eyes half-lidded but keen and his muscles trembling, his magnificent cock rising from between his thighs just as angry and flushed as the man himself. Hux could come just from looking at him like this. There's no other noise apart from the occasional squelch and groan and a creak from the bed. Hux digs his fingers in Kylo’s hard-working thighs, teetering right on the edge of his orgasm, blood rushing in his ears -
- exactly at this point his commlink chimes.