Chapter Text
Brendol Hux didn't dream.
For a month, or so, Kylo Ren found this fact rather convenient. As a child he'd been plagued by the dreams of all the other souls that shared his mother's military bases. He hadn't realised for first six years of his life. He'd assumed the visions of thrilling high-atmosphere dogfights and adventures across a myriad worlds were his own. That was until he started to remember the details on waking. The voices were not his own, the thoughts were alien to him, and he knew far too much about far off places he'd hardly even heard about. It was unsettling and he began to dread the disorientation of sleep. The last straw had been the realisation of exactly who the young woman in metal bikini was- no young boy should be subjected to his fathers nighttime visions. At eight years old he'd almost be grateful to be sent away from home. Until he'd found himself in a dense forest filled with creepy little fuzzy things that dreamed of murdering stormtroopers; and living in a camp filled with pubescent boys. He was thankful that Snoke had had him spend his adolescent years in relative isolation- wet dreams were humiliating enough when they were just your own.
Years of force training had helped him shield his mind and now he hardly heard the thousands of troops filling the Finalizer. Still, it was pleasant at first to have a sleeping partner with a quiet mind, especially given the man's habit of shouting whilst he was awake. Hux seemed to enjoy shouting. Especially at Kylo Ren. It was practically a hobby. He'd shouted a lot when Ren had announced his intention to share the General's rooms, though he'd objected less to the idea of sharing his bed. Possibly because his mouth was otherwise engaged at the time.
Gradually the novelty of his silent bedmate began to pall. If Hux wasn't touching him as they slept, Kylo would sometimes forget his was there. Or fail to notice that the General had left for the day- usually turning the alarm off as he went too, the bastard. The atmosphere became tense, like a battlefield that was far too calm and peaceful. Ren began to feel on edge.
Hux ran the Finalizer on a 28 standard hour day. He claimed it was for the purposes of efficiency but Kylo suspected it was mostly to suit the man's own body clock. Awake and training by oh five hundred, followed by a tightly scheduled twenty hour shift, a brief break for food (plus anything Kylo might offer) and the General would usually be unconscious by twenty six hundred. Literally unconscious. Occasionally, on especially busy days, Brendol wouldn't even make it the bedroom. Kylo would find him stretched out on his face, on the floor of his antechamber, with his boots still on. Somehow the hair still remained perfect.
Once, a particularly trying skirmish with The Resistance had dragged on through three days and Kylo had been forced to summon his Knights to interfere. Hux had refused to leave the command deck throughout the battle, leaving his subordinate officers impressed that his tactical skills remained so sharp with so little rest. Kylo Ren had been less impressed when he finally returned from the fray - slightly injured and covered in someone else's blood - to find Brendol Hux, the First Order's finest, fast asleep in the fresher cubicle under the jets of now icy water. How the man had managed to remain standing upright Ren would never know. He'd been far too intent of getting himself clean to care and had simply manhandled the redhead onto the floor. The next morning had featured a lot of shouting. Apparently, "it's not your blood! It's not my blood either!" isn't all that reassuring when a man has woken up to find unexplained bloody handprints smeared across his naked arse.
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Snoke had asked that a small force of Knights seek out the rumoured relics of Darth Malak on Dantooine. Kylo elected to lead his men in person this time. Ostensibly his aim was to reenforce their training and maintain their cooperative skills; if it got him several systems away from a certain angry General, well that was just a bonus.
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After three weeks of nighttime treks across seeming endless plains, Ren was inordinately pleased to get back to the Finalizer.
Though his Knights had performed admirably and all their goals were achieved, Kylo had found the constant exposure to an open sky unnerving. The total lack of cover had gone against every fibre of his being. From his earliest childhood there had always been places to hide- safety under the roofs of caves repurposed into x-wing hangers; comfort into the abandoned corridors of Snoke's ancient palace; blessed loneliness under a dense jungle canopy. Standing on the vast plains of Dantooine the heavens seemed to stretch on forever and a mere lightsaber wouldn't protect him against all that emptiness.
When he heard the unshielded, untutored whispering of his mother's mind echoing across the lightyears, Ren had tried his best to numb the temptation of the Light through sparring and self flagellation. Not for the first time his violence failed him. As his resolve wavered Kylo found another voice murmuring in his ear.
"Really Ren, what does your mother have to offer you now? An absentee, scofflaw, father. A name you outgrew decades ago. A tiny scrap of attention here and there whilst she focuses all her efforts on her precious pilots. I can give you safety, I will give you might. When Starkiller is complete I'll burn the heart out her for you, if you ask it. Stay with me Kylo of the Knights of Ren and we will rule this galaxy."
Ultimately mediation had been forced to take the place of sleep. Specifically Kylo mediated on one question - why had Snoke's usual promissory speech been spoken with the voice of Brendol Hux?
As his personal transport finally drifted gently towards the awesome, shadowy bulk of the Finalizer, Kylo had to admit that he lacked an answer. Hux was about a force sensitive as a spoon, there was no way he'd have heard his mind at that distance without some link between them. No such link existed. Their physical... arrangements... were a matter of mutual stress relief, nothing more. A way for Hux to protect his shiny new flagship from Ren's outbursts by channelling the force user's aggression into more private acts. Sharing his rooms, and his bed, was just convenient.
Kylo Ren knew he wasn't fooling himself when stepping onto the floor of the cavernous docking bay felt like coming home. Stalking through the nighttime corridors brought a sliver of peace that grew into an unnervingly silent wedge of contentment as he approached their quarters.
He disrobed in the antechamber, trying to keep the dust of Dantooine's plains off his fastidious General's floors. The door to the bedroom slid open to reveal Brendol Hux snoring gently under one of Ren's spare cloaks. A warm feeling blossomed in Kylo's chest and he found himself biting at his long fingers to resist the urge to muss the sleeping redhead's hair. Somehow this moment offered everything Kylo Ren had never known he wanted. Of course it was almost immediately ruined by a poorly aimed slap to the crotch.
Without opening his eyes Hux addressed the slightly stooping Knight in a sleep thickened growl, "Ren, stop creeping, you bastard." The General yawned. "Either get in bed or get out of my rooms entirely, you creepy... creepy... space... wizard..."
"What?" Kylo asked. But he was answered by renewed snores. Clearly Hux was too tired even for a proper shout.
Stretching, Ren decided to take the first offer and get straight into bed. He was filthy, but there'd be time to shower in the morning. Perhaps if he shared the dirt he could persuade Brendol to join him in the fresher. With that aim in mind he swiped a dusty hand across the General's face as he slipped into bed behind him.
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There was a tall man sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark. He said nothing.
A boy with a dagger through his eye was slowly falling beneath the tank treads.
How had they even gotten a giant dalyrake into the academy, and why did the method matter when he was being torn limb from limb?
A bright red blade shimmers in the dark, the light reflects off skin and sweat and blood.
Mother is crying again. But that isn't his mother.
Perhaps if he kills enough rebels, the blood will cover the stains and the crew won't notice the urine soaking the front of his uniform.
The friendly Colonel always ruffled his hair when he came to call, even today as he passed by on his way to kill father.
His wife is crying again. He doesn't have a wife.
So much blood. Who knew one man could hold so much blood. "Well done boy, you'll do well in the academy."
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Kylo Ren wakes with a bitten off scream, soaked in the sweat of the fever ridden man in his arms.
Brendol Hux doesn't dream. But tonight he's on fire and everything is burning.