Chapter Text
Hux waits on an uncomfortable chair in the med-bay. A medical droid is analysing his blood work. He refreshes the messages on his data-pad in a desperate attempt to keep on top of his work before he leaves.
It’s very last minute to get his health checked but he always leaves shore leave errands to the last minute. It is illogical but it gives him less time to get cold feet. His travel bag is half-packed on his bed, objects hastily thrown in. If he’s stressed about getting everything done in time, he isn’t thinking about it. The shame can’t build up.
He doesn’t feel shame about many things. It is a waste of time—he does not care for those around him so he should not care if they think lowly of him. The senior officers who all liked his father despise him for killing his father (because they know that he killed his father but there is no proof). The junior officers look up to him but they are obviously beneath him, so their opinions are of no value. The troopers are of even less value, emotionally anyway.
The one person who is on his level on the ship is not even worth mentioning. He finds any excuse to mock Hux.
So the shame is ridiculous, it’s silly. It’s not as if he is the only officer who goes on shore leave to have sex—many of them do. Sexual intercourse is frowned upon in the Order unless it is for the strict purpose of reproduction. And Hux certainly isn’t interested in that. He’s purely interested in the release. The debauched person he becomes on shore leave is the part of himself he loathes more than anything else.
And yet, he does the same thing each time he is granted leave. He visits a secluded pleasure planet and fucks and drinks and fucks some more and pretends he is an ordinary citizen of a debased, broken, uncouth galaxy. The very thing he has dedicated his life to ridding the from the galaxy.
His blood work is normal, as usual. He gets a booster shot to prepare his body to go planet side. He’s ready to go.
Hux leaves the med-bay and heads to his office on the superior command level. Officers and troopers alike nod, and even salute, as he passes. None of them know of his plans. None of them know the burning hunger in his belly as the reality sets in. This time tomorrow, with some luck, he’ll be on his knees in a dirty stall in a filthy bar, with a cock in his mouth and a rough hand grabbing his hair.
Once in his office, he resumes replying to tedious messages about missions are below him and updates that are pointless. He wishes he could dedicate all his time to Starkiller, but work is slow. It’s for the best, of course; it has to be flawless. It has to be successful.
He summons Mitaka to bring him some caf because he knows Mitaka will do it.
Not ten minutes later, the door to his office chimes. Hux allows Mitaka to enter. Mitaka places the mug on Hux’s desk and stands before him, concealing his eagerness well. The silence is calm and easy. Hux takes a sip of his caf and it’s perfectly sweetened.
‘As you know, my shore leave begins tomorrow,’ Hux says at last.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I will spend five rotations planet-side. You will cease any discuss on my activities, if they should arise. I am relaxing, nothing else.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘I will still reply to urgent messages when I have time, though they will unlikely align with my regular shifts. I tend to keep odd hours planet-side.’ Hux almost smiles at his terrible joke. ‘Well, I don’t need to bore you with the details. You know the drill by now.’
‘And what of Ren, sir?’ Mitaka asks, unease tinging his tone.
Hux snorts. ‘He isn’t going to slaughter the ship. He knows he’s on Snoke’s leash.’
‘But he may—’
‘He won’t.’ Hux pauses. ‘But just in case, I’ll give you my personal comm-line.’
Mitaka’s eyes darken just a shade. ‘Yes, sir.’
Mitaka is loyal. Too loyal, but that has its uses. Hux isn’t so clueless as to miss Mitaka’s attraction; he had considered bedding him at one point. Mitaka would do it willingly and wouldn’t speak of it. But he wouldn’t do it right—he’d make love, simpering and cloying. Hux needs more. He needs it desperate and hurting and meaningless.
‘If Ren gives you, or anybody, a hard time, just alert me.’ Hux arches a brow. ‘But it’s for emergencies only, understood?’
‘Yes, of course, General,’ Mitaka says, almost breathless. Then he remembers himself and puts his stoic façade back in place.
‘Thank you for the caf, lieutenant.’ Hux picks up the mug once more. ‘You’re dismissed.’
Hux finishes his shift and stays late in a trivial attempt to overcompensate. In reality, he’s put his shore leave off by almost six standard months, so engrossed in bringing his glorious weapon to fruition. He needs to leave tomorrow. Simple as that.
He’s tired as he rises and sore from sitting still for so long. He walks to his quarters slowly, occasionally stretching his neck and flexing his fingers. He’ll finish packing and perhaps eat, but perhaps not, and then sleep as best he can.
He enters his quarters and immediately freezes.
His contraband wine is opened and poured. Holo-schematics dance above his desk but no one is overseeing them. The door to his bedroom is open.
Most damning of all, Ren’s helmet is sitting on his compact dining table.
Hux shares security clearance with most of the Supreme Command, including Ren, but he has never had an incident with someone entering his private quarters until Ren. Hux tried changing the code but Ren still got in, so he stopped trying.
Entering the bedroom, he finds Ren pawing through his travel bag. Hux clears his throat, as if there is any possibility Ren hadn’t already heard him or sensed him or however his powers worked. Ren doesn’t look up.
Hux can’t handle this, so he leaves the bedroom and puts away the wine. He takes out his equally contraband whiskey and pours a shot. He downs it, coughs and sets the glass aside for the cleaning droid. He returns to the bedroom
Ren is unfortunately still there, and not some horrible stress-induced apparition, so Hux finally has to address him. ‘You shouldn’t be in here.’
‘You said to meet after your last shift.’
Hux had said that. He’s never more scattered when he’s preparing for this trip. It’s unnecessary; no one cares about his personal life. All the other officers have their secrets. Their addictions, their planet-side mistresses, their illegal contraband and anti-regulation furniture. His deep shame is his alone to worry about.
Except now Ren is here to intrude on his personal life.
It isn’t entirely unusual for them to work together in the late shifts, if they haven’t become too fed up with each other that day. They work in mostly silence, usually on the nonsense tasks Snoke has set for them—searching for Jedi artifacts, coaxing another Outer Rim planet to their cause, and, until they found the right planet, searching for a suitable base for their weapon.
‘Right,’ Hux says, crossing the room to take the shaving kit from Ren’s hands. ‘I apologise. I am leaving in the alpha shift.’
‘You are excited for your shore leave,’ Ren says, like the sham clairvoyant he is.
‘It has been a long time. Six standard months.’
Ren continues to look through Hux’s bag, as if this is his bag, in his quarters. As if not a single rule applies to him. And they don’t. Hux can’t report Ren—Snoke doesn’t care. Supreme Command can’t intervene. Hux is powerless against this infuriating man. He has quickly learned that the best course of action is allowing Ren to do as he pleases, and subtly course-correcting him. Shouting and ordering leads to the igniting of laser swords and up-turning of furniture.
‘You like working,’ Ren says. He takes out Hux’s silky sleep set, scoffs, and puts it back. ‘What are you so eager for?’
Hux focuses on keeping his mental walls raised. While he and his father despised each other, Brendol did teach Hux many useful tricks, including a few from dealing with an Inquisitor in his academy days. Of course it came in handy when Snoke overtook the growing Order. ‘Getting away from you will be quite beneficial.’
‘Why did you go to the med-bay today?’
‘Planet-side immunisations.’
Ren pulls out the discrete cache of condoms, brows raised. ‘Hm.’ His intrigue fades and he drops the packet. ‘Disappointing.’
Angry boils in Hux’s stomach but he squashes it. Ren’s opinion matters little, he reminds himself. ‘Why else would I go to such a backwater planet? I prefer the anonymity.’
‘I thought you were better than the rest of Supreme Command. That is all they think of too.’
‘Oh?’
‘Their thoughts all stray to their base desires. Do you know how many of them have carnal thoughts of you when you are presenting your notes?’
It doesn’t surprise Hux—he was propositioned by a small handful of officers in his junior years. None of them are currently alive to reveal that so it doesn’t matter. Hux is now too high-ranking to take risks like that now. This knowledge does not feed his ego; he knows those officers don’t find him very attractive. They’re just bored.
‘You aren’t revealing the salacious secrets you think you are,’ Hux says. ‘This is why most of our officers to planet-side. It is entirely ordinary.’
Ren continues to snoop, this time pulling out a grey case. Hux’s cheek twitches as he forces himself to keep still. Ren notices, naturally, and opens the case to reveal a long, slightly curved dildo. It is a little larger than standard human size and is a creamy pink. It is Hux’s favourite of his small collection.
Ren’s large hand reaches for the synthetic material and Hux finally snatches the case from him. ‘Do not touch it. It’s sanitised.’ He closes the case and puts it back in his bag. ‘I have been more than courteous. You need to leave now.’
‘Hm.’ Ren exits Hux’s sleeping quarters but doesn’t leave just yet. ‘How long will you be gone.’
‘Five days.’
‘I am to be without my co-commander for five days?’
If Hux was in a very good mood, he would indulge Ren’s banter attempts. It is painful clear that Ren’s formidable years were spent around witty and charismatic people. It has left a considerable impression, however the burden of his unnatural powers and entitlement to an eventual throne often leave him broody and off-kilter. He acts as though he can relate to no one, and perhaps he can’t. When he is in a good mood, and Hux is in a good mood, they can work together in efficient silence, sometimes long into the night shifts.
It is rare they are both in good moods.
‘You will manage.’ Hux attempts to lead Ren to the door.
Ren ignores him. ‘I am to do the work of two while you disgrace yourself on the shores of a pleasure planet?’
‘I will resume my duties when I return. You don’t have to pick up my slack.’
‘What can you possibly do for five whole days?’
That gives Hux pause. Ren is aware of Hux’s intention. He held the evidence in his hands. He no doubt skimmed whatever of Hux’s stray thoughts escaped. And he’d never admit to a lack of knowledge. He cannot fathom it.
‘Are you so much of a prude that you cannot use your imagination?’
Ren sniffs. ‘It is unnecessary.’
‘I thought the Dark Side is all about passion, giving into temptation.’ Hux cannot help teasing now that Ren has made his discomfort visible. ‘I thought great power meant you could take as you please, when you please.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Ren says, so serious now that Hux had besmirched his magic. ‘That isn’t how it works. Yielding to desire doesn’t give you what you want. Abstaining does.’
They will never be on the same page, so instead of trying to understand, Hux opens the door to the hallway. ‘Very well. I shall see you in five days.’
Ren sneers and levels Hux with a frightening stare. It unnerves Hux but he bites the inside of his cheek to stay neutral. Ren leaves, stalking down the hall like a creature from a children’s tale.
Hux shuts the door and locks it.