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“Why the kriff are you in my bed?!” Hux yelps, kicking at Ren’s body until the man rolls off the mattress.
“You try sleeping on that fucking couch,” Ren grumbles from the floor.
He attempts to climb back into the bed, but Hux shrieks, kicking him with a vigor he didn’t know he could possess before his morning cup of tea.
The diplomatic mission to Chadawa is off to a great start.
“Just—get out,” Hux hisses.
Incredibly, Ren does, though judging by the speed with which he dashes for the refresher, it’s not because he decided to listen to Hux for once.
Hux hides his face in his hands and wonders how his life came to this.
When he was specifying Kylo Ren as his “plus-one,”—after a long, long argument and a follow-up intervention from Snoke—he did not expect the Chadawans to make assumptions about the nature of their relationship. In hindsight, he should’ve known—the files on Governor Bordanivaux did contain a note calling her an ardent romantic.
Hopefully, it will not interfere with the negotiations. Even more hopefully, Ren will not interfere with the negotiations.
Snoke said this mission would be a good training experience for Ren, and Hux dreads to find out how Ren interpreted that.
Best case scenario, he’ll shadow Hux and learn from him about the fine art of extracting sensitive information from planet leaders.
Worst case? Better not to think about it.
After they’re dressed, they are ushered to the breakfast hall, where Kylo gorges himself on every single dish. Hux watches in disgust, as he munches on his plain toast.
There’s no way he and this man can ever get along.
Breakfast is followed by a tour of the palace, which is followed by lunch, which is followed by a tour of the palace gardens, which is followed by dinner, which is followed by nothing.
“Wait.” Hux catches the attendant who’s been guiding them through the day. “When do we speak with the Governor?”
“Oh.” The attendant presses a hand to her mouth, looking like she’s stifling a giggle. “It’s fun first, business later.”
Hux shudders at the thought.
“Must it be?” he asks, without much hope.
The attendant smiles brightly.
“This is how we do things on Chadawa.”
Hux can’t argue with that, not if he wants to get the kriffing information.
“Very well,” he says, while Ren makes an affirmative grunt behind him.
“See you tomorrow,” the attendant says with a wave and disappears into the palace halls.
They reach their room, and Hux throws a smarting glance at Ren.
“You. Couch.” He points to the furniture in question to drive his point home.
Ren gives him a displeased glare but doesn’t argue.
It’s a small win, but at least Hux is ending this useless day with one.
He drifts to sleep, while Ren lingers in the refresher. Fussing with his hair, most likely.
That long, stupid hair. It doesn’t suit Ren at all.
Well. Maybe a little.
*
“Where the fuck is the blanket?!” Ren’s disgruntled voice is the first thing Hux hears, as he wakes up.
It sounds very, very close.
The next thing that happens is someone yanking the soft, warm, fluffy blanket off Hux, leaving him exposed to the cool air in the room, while only wearing his boxers and undershirt. His skin immediately breaks out in goosebumps, and he shivers.
“Give it back,” he orders, too preoccupied with getting warm to address the fact that Ren’s in his bed again.
“No,” Ren says, as he drags the blanket over his head. “I won it in a fair fight. It’s mine.”
Hux rubs at his temples.
“I was asleep,” he points out. “How’s that a fair fight?”
Ren just wraps the blanket tighter around himself.
Hux has neither the time nor the energy for this.
He gets ready for the day, wishing the Chadawans had provided a full itinerary instead of making it a surprise every morning of their stay. They’re here for a kriffing week, and Hux really, really doesn’t like not having a plan around which to build his actions and expectations.
Their attendant from yesterday comes to whisk them away, chattering about how they’re happy to welcome the First Order delegation and how they hope their guests are having a nice time.
“We are,” Hux assures her, lying shamelessly.
“Excellent,” she chirps, as she leads them through bustling streets to the best theater in the capital. “I hope you like ballet, General.” She casts a doubtful look at Ren. “Commander.”
“Of course,” Hux says, even as his soul cringes in horror.
“I do,” Ren says, and he sounds sincere.
The attendant smiles at them and continues walking, a couple of steps in front of them.
“You like ballet?” Hux whispers at Ren, can’t help himself.
“It’s a lot like fighting,” Ren says. “The discipline, the control, the precision.” He pauses to glance at Hux. “The beauty.”
Hux regards him curiously. The man has layers, at least more than Hux assumed.
It doesn’t make him less infuriating, but during the performance, Hux finds watching Ren’s mesmerized face more interesting than whatever’s happening on the stage.
He doesn’t let himself dwell on it.
“When do we meet the Governor?” he asks again, when the attendant leads them back to their room.
“Did you enjoy the performance?” she asks, as if Hux hadn’t said anything.
“Yes, but—” he tries again.
“Wonderful,” she interrupts him. “The Governor will be very pleased.”
Hux’s eyebrow twitches, despite his best efforts to keep his expression friendly.
“We would love to discuss it with her in person,” he says, just as they stop at their door.
“I’ll make sure to tell her that,” the attendant says, and Hux has no doubt she’s irritating him on purpose.
As soon as she leaves, he drops the polite smile and glares at the closed door, as if he could set it on fire with the power of his annoyance.
“Don’t strain yourself, General,” Ren tells him, passing him on his way to the bedroom. “I don’t think the door returns your feelings.”
“Oh, no,” Hux starts, rushing after him. “No, no, no! You’re not—”
Ren flops onto the bed, rolls onto his stomach, and starts snoring in five seconds flat.
Hux’s mouth twitches as he surveys the situation.
The couch is, indeed, an abomination—nothing like the comfortable ice-blue one in his quarters—and he finds himself crawling into the bed beside Ren, trying to convince himself this is just for one more night.
At least the man only hogged half of the blanket, which is so close to considerate that Hux’s brain hurts at the thought.
He settles as far away from Ren as he can and sinks into sleep, telling himself there’s nothing soothing about the calm rhythm of Ren’s breathing beside him.
*
“Why the kriff are you smelling my hair?!” This is not a sentence Hux expected to ever say in his life, but this is how his third morning on Chadawa appears to begin.
“‘m not,” Ren mumbles, although his nose is very definitely pressed into the top of Hux’s head.
His arm is thrown across Hux’s body, pinning him in place, which is an indignity Hux isn’t inclined to tolerate.
“Get off me!” he yells, squirming away from Ren, who has the audacity to blink innocently at him.
“Why are you always so angry?” he asks, and yawns, sitting up with his arms stretched above his head.
The blanket slips to his waist, and he—he’s not wearing an undershirt. Must have taken it off sometime during the night.
Hux stares stupidly at Ren’s chest, blood creeping up his body to pool in his cheeks.
It takes an embarrassingly long moment for Ren’s words to register, but when they do, they leave Hux incredulous enough to switch his attention back to Ren’s impossible face.
“You’re accusing me of being angry?” He raises his eyebrows. “You, of all people? Kylo ‘Destroyer of Valuable Equipment’ Ren?”
His questions hang in the air, met with Ren’s blank look that has not a single trace of anything close to contrition.
“You worry too much,” he says, like it’s a bad thing, “General ‘Perpetually Constipated Face’ Hux.”
How dare he.
“Careful, Ren,” Hux hisses, springing up and glaring at him. “Accidents tend to happen, especially on strange planets.”
Ren scoffs, as he stands up and faces Hux, his stupid chest on full display.
“Careful, Hux,” he returns. “Accidents do tend to happen.”
Mutual threats are, of course, a great way to start the morning.
Hux stalks into the refresher, slamming the door behind him. Whatever game Ren’s playing, he doesn’t need to join in.
Their attendant picks them up after breakfast. Her bright smile is growing irritating, but the time Hux has spent dealing with Ren taught him how to hide his irritation better than anything.
“What is on today’s agenda?” he asks pleasantly, while vowing to himself that he’ll strangle the woman if it doesn’t include a meeting with the Governor.
“Oh!” She beams, and Hux tamps down the urge to shield his eyes. “The Governor’s grandchild is playing a concert. They are brilliant on the electro-harp.”
Hux wants to groan. He keeps the pleasant smile going.
“Will the Governor be present?” he asks.
“Of course,” the attendant says, and Hux’s shoulders relax. Marginally.
She takes them to a concert hall, ushering them to their seats on one of the balconies. The Governor, as it turns out, is seated opposite them across the entire hall.
Hux really, really wants to kill someone.
The Governor disappears as soon as the musicians take their final bow, and Hux almost runs after her, but he’s quickly bogged down by the chattering crowd flooding the corridors.
“This is getting bothersome,” he mutters through his teeth, low enough that no one but Ren seem to hear him.
“It’s fun, though, isn’t it?” Ren says, sounding like he’s actually having a good time.
Hux scowls at him.
“You do realize this isn’t about fun?” If Snoke intended this as training for Ren, Hux will give him training. “She’s toying with us. Testing our intentions.” Knowing this doesn’t make going through it any more pleasant. “Chadawa doesn’t trust the First Order, not after the Empire’s Operation Cinder.”
Ren nods thoughtfully.
“The planet got off pretty lightly,” he points out. “Other places were obliterated. And it was the New Republic that killed her lover.”
Hux looks at him in surprise.
“Did you actually read the files?” He sometimes doubts that Ren can read at all.
Ren gives him an unimpressed look.
“I took the information from your mind,” he says, and walks away before Hux can stop spluttering.
He fumes all the way through lunch, until the attendant announces that their next activity is a tour of the man-made ocean that constitutes the planet. Which is why Hux is here in the first place.
Mood improved, he pushes Ren’s words out of his mind and follows the attendant, feet light with anticipation.
She takes them to an observation platform, outlining the history of the planet as they watch the dark-blue water churn under them.
“The engines that power the planet’s rotation also warm the oceans,” she explains, sweet and proud. “However, they produce massive amounts of radioactive particles.”
“That are capable of disrupting communication systems, yes,” Hux butts in, eager to hear something that’s not included in a tourist booklet.
“Oh.” The attendant looks at him with approval. “You did your homework, General.”
Hux refrains from another bout of spluttering, but it’s a close call.
“This is the very purpose of my visit,” he says, trying hard to keep from gritting his teeth.
“Our visit,” Ren corrects him.
Hux still doesn’t know what Ren’s doing here, apart from getting on his nerves.
“I know, I know,” the attendant says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I just wanted to refresh your memory.”
“My memory is in excellent condition,” Hux says, and he doesn’t care anymore if he comes off as hostile.
“Of course,” the attendant says with her regular pleasant smile.
Hux wants to cut it off her face.
Ren steps forward, blocking Hux’s view of the woman.
“We have completed the tour,” he says evenly, his hand gliding in the air in front of her.
“We have completed the tour,” the attendant repeats as her face slackens.
Hux stares at Ren in horror.
“What are you doing?” he hisses. “We need to find out–”
“She doesn’t know anything you don’t.” It’s an odd sort of compliment.
A few seconds later, the attendant brightens again, beaming at them. “Let’s get you back to the palace, then.”
“It is still quite early,” Hux says, even as he follows her toward the shuttle they’re using to move around the planet. “Maybe the Governor could spare a minute?”
“Don’t worry,” the woman says, patting Hux’s shoulder. He almost stabs her on pure reflex. “You will meet her soon.”
“Define soon,” Hux mutters under his breath, but the attendant either doesn’t hear him or pretends not to.
In their room, Hux paces around, fists clenching as he tries to think of anything he can do.
“I am going to bed,” he announces at last, throwing a withering glare at Ren. “Do not join me.”
Ren doesn’t look up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, clicking through the collection of holofilms available to guests.
“It smells nice, by the way,” he says, nonsensically.
Hux stops halfway toward the bedroom.
“What?”
“Your hair.”
Hux’s face burns in less than a second.
He burrows under the blanket, trying to forget everything Ren-related, so he can get some kriffing sleep.
It’s not his fault that his dreams center around Ren’s pesky nose. And his mouth. And the rest of his face.
That awful face with its haphazard features that somehow look mesmerizing in the deep recesses of Hux’s unconscious mind.
*
“Why the fuck are you up so early?!” Ren complains, as he checks the chrono on the nightstand after Hux yanks the blanket off him.
He is, of course, once again in Hux’s bed, which isn’t even a surprise at this point.
“I’m going to find the Governor myself,” Hux says, crisp and determined. “You can either join me or rot in here.”
He drops the blanket back onto the bed and walks toward the door, fully expecting Ren to go back to sleep.
“Wait,” Ren calls after him instead.
Hux should be dismayed, but, weirdly, he’s a little glad.
He turns around, folding his arms over his chest and twisting his mouth, trying to convey the displeasure he isn’t feeling.
“You have ten minutes,” he tells Ren, tapping his finger on his arm. At least his impatience is real.
Ren, to his credit, is ready to go in exactly ten minutes.
Would that he always followed Hux’s orders like this.
They sneak out of the room and brave the convoluted corridors of the Chadawa palace, looking for the place with the most guards. It takes them about an hour to investigate every floor, before they arrive at a giant door with intricate carvings all over it. The room is guarded by eight people in bright-blue armor, who eye Hux and Ren with suspicion, hands resting on their blasters.
“We are the Governor’s guests,” Hux says, stepping forward, chin high.
The guards exchange puzzled looks.
“The Governor is not receiving guests at the moment,” one of them says, possibly the head guard.
Hux raises his chin even higher.
“We were promised a meeting.”
The head guard shrugs.
“We do not have orders to let anyone in.”
Ren pushes past Hux and raises his hand. All eight guards pull their blasters out, pointing them at him before he can start giving any Force-backed orders.
This is going great.
Hux steps around Ren, trying to push him back, but Ren remains immovable. A quick glance at his face tells Hux he needs to find a way out of this, fast. Otherwise, there will be eight newly dead people on the floor, which is not a situation he wants to explain to the Governor.
“Let’s not—” he starts, when the door swings open.
A tall woman in her sixties stands in the doorway, dressed in an elaborate gown with a long, bright-blue cape flowing off her shoulders. Her gray hair is coiled around her head in a number of plaits, and her eyelids are painted in black and gold.
Hux recognizes her from the files.
“Governor,” he says, turning toward her with a bow.
“General.” She sounds more surprised than angry. “Are you the reason behind this commotion?”
Hux straightens and meets her eyes. Ren steps forward to join him, keeping both his hands at his sides.
“We were merely seeking the audience that we were promised,” Hux says with a neutral face that, as he’s been informed, is more threatening than any other expression.
The Governor tilts her head, considering them.
“I applaud your persistence,” she says after a moment. Hux tries not to scream. “Come in. We will talk.”
The conversation ends up a little one-sided, with Hux presenting his requests and the Governor merely nodding in response.
“I understand,” she says, when Hux stops talking. “I will give you my response at the ball.”
“The what?” Hux asks, blanching.
She stands up and gestures unambiguously toward the door.
“I suggest you rest,” she says with a pleasant but imperious smile. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Hux fumes all the way back to their room, Ren walking in stride with him and throwing indecipherable looks his way. Talking to him is the last thing Hux wants, so he’s grateful that the man isn’t trying to start a conversation.
It doesn’t last long.
“You really should stop being so angry.” Ren opens his mouth as soon as he closes the door behind them. “It’s bad for your blood pressure.”
“I will be whatever I want to be,” Hux snaps, proceeding to an armchair, where he pulls out his datapad and buries himself in the reports that are technically being forwarded to Captain Peavey during his absence.
“Don’t complain when you die at thirty-five of a heart attack,” Ren says, striding past Hux into the bedroom. “Wake me up for lunch.”
“I will do no such thing,” Hux mutters, though Ren is already snoring.
By the time the ball begins, Hux is reasonably refreshed from doing paperwork, and Ren seems to be in a good mood after sleeping through half the day.
Miraculously, they are seated next to the Governor, but the music is too loud for a serious conversation. Hux tries yelling his questions at her, to no avail.
Ren, in the meantime, is busy consuming every kind of refreshment he can reach, expectedly barbaric.
Hux sips on the wine, his insides crawling with frustration, when the Governor leans in close, speaking directly into his ear.
“Do you dance, General?”
Hux almost spits out his drink.
“I—”
“He does,” Ren says over him, because, apparently, his Force powers include super hearing. Or he’s been mind-reading Hux’s attempts at conversation all along.
Hux doesn’t have the time to consider which option irritates him more, as the Governor’s face lights up, and she smiles at Ren.
“Don’t let me hold you back,” she says, her eyes going misty.
Horrified, Hux realizes that his night is going to get much, much worse, right now.
Ren grabs his hand and tugs him onto the dance floor, Hux following on wooden legs, his brain screaming but ultimately failing to come up with a way out of this. The Governor is watching them with a dreamy look, which makes Hux itch all over.
“She’s thinking about Colonel Madrighast,” Ren tells Hux, as he puts Hux’s hands on his shoulders.
Those are very broad shoulders.
“Her late lover?” Hux asks, watching Ren’s hands settle on his waist. Dread fills him, but also something else, a thing he doesn’t know the name for.
“You remind her of him,” Ren says and starts swaying them to the music. It’s awful, and somehow soothing. “Same cold fire in your eyes. Focus. Determination.”
It almost sounds like Ren’s trying to compliment him.
“Are you reading her mind?” Hux asks, desperate to change the subject.
Ren shrugs and pulls Hux closer, which sets Hux’s face on fire. This is decidedly not where he expected the night to go.
“It’s a curious mind,” Ren says, and then he’s very, very close. “Like yours.”
Hux can feel Ren’s breath. His mouth is a mere inch away from Hux’s, and even that distance is shrinking.
There’s no platonic explanation for this, and Hux knows it.
He wrenches out of Ren’s arms and coughs a few times, trying to make it sound realistic.
“Hux?” Ren frowns and reaches out, but Hux steps back before Ren can touch him.
He’s had more than enough touching for the night.
“I—” It comes out way too high-pitched. “Room,” he says, not trusting himself with longer sentences, and strides off the dance floor.
The Governor catches his arm as he tries to walk past her and out of the ballroom.
“Already leaving, General?”
He makes a show of coughing again.
“I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me,” he says, as he curses this entire mission in his head. “Nothing a little sleep can’t fix.”
The Governor looks at him with those damn misty eyes.
“You are quite striking,” she says, “you and your—” She tilts her head in a question.
“Co-commander,” Hux squeaks, which, at least, surprises the Governor enough that she releases him.
He dashes through the palace toward their room, barely stops to take off his boots and jacket, and dives under the blanket, shivering from stress.
The worst thing is, he wants to go back to that kriffing dance floor.
He presses his face into the pillow and starts counting droids in his head, until he falls asleep.
*
“Your behavior yesterday was unacceptable!” Hux proclaims, as soon as Ren stirs awake on the other side of the bed.
He’s been sitting in the bed for the past hour, watching closely for signs of consciousness on Ren’s face.
It’s not like he was watching him sleep. No, this is completely different.
Ren looks at him from under his tangled hair, his face creased from the pillow. Hux stares back, arms folded.
He’s using his most deathly glare, but Ren only sighs, before sitting up and rolling his shoulders.
His shirt is missing again, not that Hux notices.
“Was it?” Ren asks, and he sounds way too alert.
Hux splutters.
“What did you think you were doing?” he demands, realizing belatedly that he doesn’t really want to hear the answer.
Ren considers him, as if trying to decide whether Hux is as dumb as his question indicates.
“This,” he says after whatever conclusion he reaches, and leans forward to press his lips to Hux’s.
Hux shrieks and scrambles back until he falls off the bed.
That is, he would have fallen, if Ren didn’t raise his hand, casually intercepting him in the air and levitating him back.
Hux wants to scratch Ren’s eyes out. Yes, those deep, soulful kriffing eyes.
“I can hear that you hate me,” Ren says, but he doesn’t sound offended. “I can also hear that you want me.”
Hux almost shrieks again.
“That is preposterous.” He tries to stand up, but Ren’s invisible grip doesn’t let him. “Let me go.”
“No,” Ren says, simple but inarguable. “You can’t keep running away.”
“Watch me,” Hux hisses.
Ren scoots toward him, putting a hand on Hux’s knee.
This isn’t happening.
“I’ve been watching you,” Ren says, lifting his other hand to cradle Hux’s cheek. “You’re a complicated man, Hux.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Of sorts.” Ren leans in close. “I enjoy complicated things.”
Hux will never admit it, but Ren’s words make something in his chest flip.
“Is that so?” he asks, weaker, quieter.
“It is.”
When Ren kisses him again, he doesn’t try to run.
This is, indeed, happening.
Maybe Ren is right, and it’s been building for quite some time, with Hux misinterpreting his own feelings. He doesn’t care much for those, so it’s more than possible.
Logic doesn’t work, not with this, and it scares him. It means he can’t predict the outcome, can’t think his way through this.
Apparently, he’ll have to feel his way through this, which is annoying, just as everything about Ren.
“Are you angry?” Ren asks, when he draws back.
“Yes,” Hux says, and it’s true, but it’s not the whole truth.
“Do you hate me?” Ren curls his fingers around Hux’s chin.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me?” Ren’s mouth hovers just next to Hux’s.
Hux should lie. It’s the sane thing to do. He should shove Ren back, get into the shuttle, and leave this entire kriffing planet.
The thing that flipped in his chest—it flips again.
“Don’t you know?” he says, giving up, but it doesn’t feel like surrender.
In a way, it’s a win, or so he plans on telling himself.
Ren kisses him, and this time he kisses back.
It’s a disaster. He’ll regret it. They both will.
But it feels so kriffing good.
Ren’s tongue slips between Hux’s lips, and Hux doesn’t notice when they start tugging their clothes off each other, until he’s naked and hard, Ren’s body a hot weight over his.
It’s all heat and skin after that, their bodies figuring each other out like they were made for this. Ren’s mouth is all over him, his hands reaching everywhere, and Hux thinks, fleetingly, that this is the first time he’s seen Ren be gentle with anything. It strikes him as a nice thought.
Then Ren’s hand wraps around his cock, and Hux doesn’t think about anything else after that.
When they emerge, both panting, from the haze of long-repressed want, Hux decides this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
If he keeps his head, it could actually be a good thing.
In their next meeting with the Governor, finally a proper one, he brushes his hand over Ren’s, tucks a strand of Ren’s hair behind his ear. He plays it off as casual, as something he doesn’t think about, but he doesn’t miss how her eyes follow every gesture.
“I see you are enjoying your stay,” she says, with a delighted smile.
“There’s only one thing that could make it better,” Hux tells her, smiling back.
“Name it,” she says, and Hux knows she’ll give them everything.
Back in their room, he sits on the bed and checks that the blueprints for the planet-powering engines have been successfully downloaded into his personal storage. The samples of the radioactive particles capable of scrambling communications are already in the shuttle, which marks their mission to Chadawa a success.
He dives into the blueprints, unable to stay his excitement, and he doesn’t notice when Ren’s head ends up in his lap, or when he starts carding his fingers through Ren’s hair.
It’s a weird feeling, but not an unpleasant one.
Not until Ren grabs his hand and starts biting his fingers.
“What the kriff?” Hux yelps, dropping his datapad on Ren’s head.
“Ow,” Ren says around Hux’s fingers and levitates the datapad onto the nightstand.
At least he didn’t throw it on the floor, which is something.
“I’m busy,” Hux says, trying to reach for his gadget, but Ren sits up and blocks his way.
“I’m bored,” he announces.
Hux gives him an unimpressed stare.
“Find something to do.”
Ren grins.
“I found you.”
It’s stupid, cheesy, and somehow makes Hux flush with his entire body.
He doesn’t even protest when Ren pounces on him, hands gripping his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders.
They still have a couple of days on Chadawa, with no more mission objectives to meet, and maybe, for the first time in his life, Hux can actually let himself enjoy something just for the sake of it.
He lets Ren pull off his clothes and doesn’t think about anything till they fall asleep, tangled, sweaty, and completely satisfied.
*
“Good morning, beautiful,” Ren murmurs, obnoxious, nose bumping against Hux’s ear.
This is too much even for Hux’s newfound openness to feelings.
“I will kill you, Ren,” he threatens, trying to swat Ren away.
He uses his coldest voice, but Ren just chuckles and rolls over him.
“Nah, you won’t.”
As Ren kisses him, soft and lazy, Hux knows—he won’t.
Even if sometimes, he’ll really, really want to.