Archive of Our Own

Hux is surprised by the message that pops up on his data pad, reminding him that he has a routine checkup the following afternoon in medbay. He typically schedules these visits personally, working around more important appointments, and he’s sure that he’s had his annual physical already. He checks the origin of the message and sees that it comes from the same comm number that Snoke uses to summon him and Ren when necessary, saved into Hux’s data pad as “Supreme Leader.” Hux thinks of responding with an inquiry, but he’s never responded to any messages from this number before, aside from appearing in the conference room at once to answer Snoke’s holo calls. He supposes it might be a glitch of some kind, and decides he’ll simply ask the doctors in medbay who ordered the appointment and why.

If Snoke himself actually requested that Hux be physically examined he’ll have to submit to it, and this is annoying, mostly because he can’t imagine why Snoke would care what sort of physical shape he’s in presently. Hux has always suspected that Snoke views him as quite replaceable, and that if Hux were harboring some undocumented illness, Snoke would sooner allow him to succumb to it than bother with having it diagnosed.

But perhaps he’s wrong about that. Hux hasn’t had much to be curious about in recent weeks, and it’s not a sensation he always enjoys, but he is interested, at least, in the explanation for this summons, as he makes his way to medbay the following day, appearing precisely at the time his comm told him that he should.

His interest only increases when he walks into the private room where the examination is to be held and finds Kylo Ren waiting there, mask in place and hands clasped behind his back as he stands at attention near the examining table. Hux’s spike of interest was automatic and can’t be helped; it’s quickly replaced with annoyance.

“Am I in the wrong place?” Hux asks when Ren says nothing. “I had a message that I was to report here for a medical exam. It seemed to come from Snoke’s channel.”

“It did,” Ren says, grave as ever through his speech modulation device. Hux assumes Ren uses the modulator and mask in an effort to seem somewhat less childish. The results are mixed: he is intimidating, at times, from behind that thing, but sometimes the drama of it only increases the absurdity of the things that come out of Ren’s mouth.

“So Snoke wants me examined for some reason?” Hux says when Ren goes silent again. Hux has the uncanny feeling that Ren is smirking at him from behind that stupid mask. “Has he ordered you to submit to a medical exam as well?” Hux asks.

“No,” Ren says. There’s something taunting in it, not as subtle as Ren would probably like to think.

“Then why are you here?” Hux asks, allowing his voice to sharpen, though he prefers to conceal it when Ren’s attempts to infuriate him are successful.

“I’m giving the examination,” Ren says, still motionless.

“You’re giving what examination? To whom? Surely you don’t presume to tell me that you’re qualified to medically examine anyone, or that I would allow you to perform that sort of thing on me even if you were.”

“It’s not medical,” Ren says. “Supreme Leader wants a thorough examination of your thoughts, via the Force.”

Hux snorts and turns to scan the room, as if someone else might be in on this infantile prank. As if Ren has any actual friends.

“Right,” Hux says. “And I’m just expected to take your word for it?”

“No. Which is why Snoke summoned you himself. On the comm. I know you got his message asking you to appear here, at this time. And here you are.”

“And now I’m leaving.”

“You defy the Supreme Leader?” Ren sounds almost pleased. He would like that: the opportunity to watch Snoke eviscerate Hux for disobeying a direct order. But this doesn’t feel direct, exactly, and Ren is obviously withholding some wicked laughter from behind that mask. Hux has a particularly well-attuned sense of what it feels like to be laughed at behind his back.

“What exactly do you propose to do?” Hux asks, not sure how to proceed. He could leave and ask Snoke to confirm that this is legitimate, but Snoke wouldn’t like that if this indeed is what he wants from them.

“Sit here,” Ren says, pointing to the exam table.

“Why is this happening in medbay?” Hux asks, not moving from his place near the door.

“Because it can be physically overwhelming for someone who isn’t Force sensitive. If you have a seizure, I need to be able to summon the medical staff promptly.”

“Oh, how reassuring.” Hux keeps telling himself that he should just go. That this is obviously some kind of Ren-generated charade. It certainly feels that way, and Ren has the ability to yank fully grown men across rooms with his mind alone, so he probably has the ability to manipulate Hux’s data pad, though actually that seems like too delicate a task for Ren’s brutish, reckless powers.

“I’ll try not to hurt you,” Ren says.

It’s such an odd statement, coming from him and from behind that mask, that Hux is propelled forward, just a few steps, wondering exactly what Ren plans to do to him that won’t hurt, allegedly.

“Snoke suspects my mind needs examining?” Hux says. “He thinks I’m not properly devoted? Can he not sense that I am completely committed with his own-- Abilities?”

“He thinks you are,” Ren says. “And he wants to share more of our plans with you, therefore. But before he can, he needs me to personally confirm that you are deserving of this trust. He can’t do it from where he is. You have to be in the same room with the person you’re examining to get the clearest reading of their thoughts. Physically present.”

“Really.” Hux stares at the exam table and swallows, hoping that Ren can’t sense his increased heart rate or renewed spike of curiosity. “Well, my mind is available for you to examine,” Hux says. “I’m not hiding anything that Snoke would find alarming.”

“Good,” Ren says. Something about the way he’s pronounced that word sends a shiver down the backs of Hux’s legs, and he hopes that Ren didn’t sense that either. “Sit here and we’ll begin,” Ren says, pointing to the exam table.

“We’ll begin what? Can’t you do it from there?”

“No. It requires physical contact. And you should probably undress.”

“I should-- Why?”

“People usually sweat a lot. You might ruin your uniform.”

Now Ren sounds amused again. Hux hesitates, wishing that Ren would remove the mask so that Hux could at least attempt to read his face. Hux has only glimpsed Ren’s actual, human face a few times. Without the mask, Ren is surprisingly emotive, surprisingly unguarded, and surprisingly young.

Hux removes his hat, gloves and greatcoat and puts them aside, leaving the rest of his clothing in place as he climbs up onto the examining table. He’s already sweating a bit under his uniform tunic, uncomfortably taken off guard by this whole thing. It’s true that if he leaves this room, he may be defying orders handed down from Snoke, and it’s true that he has nothing to hide from Snoke or from Ren: he is devoted to the Order and willing to go along with their demands, to some extent, because they have both demonstrated immense power. Ren may sense that Hux resents that someone even younger than him has been gifted with power like his, but that’s no secret. Ren knows that Hux resents him. Hux hasn’t made any attempt to hide this, even from Snoke.

“Try to relax,” Ren says when Hux stares at him, just short of glowering, his back very straight.

“It would help me relax if you told me what to expect,” Hux says. “Beyond the possibility of seizures.”

“That won’t happen unless you fight me. You’ll feel-- Stimulated.”

“Stimulated. Can you be more specific, please?”

“Just shut up and let me do it. It’s hard to explain.”

Ren removes one of his gloves, then the other. Hux resists the urge to grab hold of the sides of the exam table to brace himself against whatever is about to happen. Apparently it involves Ren’s bare hands.

“You’re leaving the mask on?” Hux says, these words tumbling out of him without permission when Ren lifts his hands toward Hux’s face.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ren asks. “The mask doesn’t cloud my perception.”

Hux opens his mouth to say something more, not even sure what, and his lips remain parted as Ren’s hands come to cup his head, Ren’s thumbs resting over Hux’s temples, fingers settling over Hux’s hair. Hux can hear Ren breathing in raspy exhales. He wonders if he’s ever been this close to Ren before, tries to remember when he last felt someone’s bare hands on his skin, and worries that Ren has picked up on one or both of those thoughts.

“Try not to clutter your mind with frivolous considerations,” Ren says. Taunting him: Hux can hear it in Ren’s tone, unmistakable even through the modulator. He’s amused.

“Just do your job,” Hux snaps, feeling his heart beating faster already. He’s not sure that he feels anything else yet, beyond the odd pressure over his temples and the uncomfortable sense of being scrutinized closely by someone whose eyes are concealed behind a mask.

“Your mind remains cluttered,” Ren says, adjusting his thumbs slightly over Hux’s temples as he says so. “And you’re panicking. General, we’ve barely begun.”

“I’m hardly panicking. I’m sitting here, perfectly still, I’m--”

“If you take your tunic off,” Ren says, “You won’t feel so overheated.”

Hux exhales in a choppy rush, realizing only then that he’s very hot, sweating quite a bit under his clothes.

“Take the mask off,” Hux says. “And I’ll remove my tunic.”

“Will it make you feel more comfortable to see my face, General?” Ren asks. “I had assumed the opposite.”

“Why?”

“Most people don’t like being stared at directly, and this examination is already quite disquieting to those who have never undergone one before.”

“Well, I can still feel you staring at me, whether I can see your eyes or not, so just take the damn thing off.”

Hux begins undoing the buttons on his uniform tunic when Ren lets go of him and reaches up to pull off his mask and helmet in one smooth motion. Hux is surprised Ren is doing as asked, and surprised by his own actions when he looks away from Ren’s disturbingly open face and continues undoing the buttons on his tunic. It’s just that he’s so overheated, suddenly. It does feel good to shrug his tunic off, the cool air in the exam room raising goosebumps on his arms and shoulders when he sits in only his black tank, feeling small under Ren’s gaze.

“What?” Hux asks when Ren just stands there staring at him.

“Nothing.” Ren frowns and steps forward again. “It’s just that you look like a person.”

“I-- And what do I normally look like?”

“Like a uniform.”

“You’re one to talk. You walk about the ship looking like a bloody battle droid.”

Hux shifts when Ren’s thumbs come to his temples again. He’s already beginning to regret his request that Ren remove his mask. Ren was right: the scrutiny does feel more intense with Ren’s unblinking eyes staring down into his own.

“Told you,” Ren says.

Hux raises his lip. “Just do your thing and get it over with.”

“Maybe you should close your eyes,” Ren says. He moves his thumbs over Hux’s temples, and something about the motion makes Hux jump, despite the fact that it was a very soft touch, or maybe because it was. “You’re tense,” Ren says. “Close your eyes.”

“This is so unnecessary,” Hux mutters, letting his eyes fall shut. “You’ll see. There’s nothing but dedication and determination in my mind when it comes to our goals for the Order’s success.”

“Our goals,” Ren says. He smirks when Hux peeks at him. “It’s funny to hear you say it like that,” Ren says. “The Supreme Leader wants very different things from the two of us.”

“I don’t see it that way. I think he wants unquestioning obedience from us both.”

“Hmm. And that troubles you?”

“What? I didn’t say that.”

Hux feels himself flushing. It’s true that he’s been uneasy with this directive in the past, but only because Snoke’s goals aren’t always stated clearly, and Hux can only follow blindly for so long. He closes his eyes when he can feel Ren sensing this, as if a ghostly extension of Ren’s thumbs has crept into Hux’s mind, allowing Ren to page through secret thoughts.

“You won’t be punished for wondering what Supreme Leader ultimately aims to do with the First Order,” Ren says. He’s speaking softly, as if he’s sharing a confidence with Hux. It makes Hux shiver, and he knows Ren will have felt it. Hux’s hands twitch on his thighs, and he again resists the urge to grab both sides of the exam table and hold on. “As long as you don’t plan to take charge of the Order yourself,” Ren says, his thumbs sliding very slightly downward, then back up again, drawing an embarrassing, half-swallowed gasp from Hux as Ren’s touch seems to reverberate through him, charging along his skin and seeping into his bones. “Good, General,” Ren says, his face much too close to Hux’s. Ren moves his thumbs again, coaxing an open-mouthed gasp from Hux this time. “Very good, just relax into it.”

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” Hux asks, wrenching his eyes open as a violent shudder moves through him.

“Shh, stop.” Ren’s eyes harden, and his thumbs go still over Hux’s temples again. “I’m examining you, as I explained.”

“Ah--Explained? Hardly.” Hux is hot again, sweltering, wanting to yank off his pants and rip his boots away along with them. He’s also shivering. “Are you finished?” He asks, hopeful, though he’s starting to feel good, too, despite the heat that soaks the backs of his thighs with sweat, against the exam table and inside his uniform pants. It’s a bit like sitting in a whirlpool after a workout, though normally in that case he would only be wearing swim shorts. He’s overcome with the worrying desire to get out of his clothes.

“Phase one is finished,” Ren says, though he’s still holding Hux’s head between his hands. “I didn’t find any traitorous thoughts that would trouble Snoke.”

“Of course you didn’t. How many phases of this thing are there?”

“Three.”

“Great. Get back, all right? If this is going to continue, I’ve got to-- To undress a bit more, I’m roasting.”

“Yes.” Ren removes his hands from Hux’s head. “That would be wise.”

“What’s phase two?” Hux asks, glowering at Ren while he hurries to unfasten his belt, his hands shaking with urgency and with a kind of electric charge that Ren’s examination seems to have left behind within him.

“Phase two,” Ren says, flipping his hair back with unnecessary flourish, “Is unknotting your various energy blockages. It allows for a deeper understanding of the mind.”

“It-- What?”

“You’ll see.”

Ren watches as Hux unzips his boots and drops them to the floor before shoving his pants off. It’s a relief to be free of them, and Hux pulls his socks off as well, settling back on the exam table in only his undershirt and briefs, both of which are glued to him with sweat. Hux doesn’t care; these bits will of course stay on.

“Do I even want to know what energy blockages are?” Hux asks, sitting up straighter when Ren approaches him again.

“They vary,” Ren says. “Generally they’re physical in nature. In some people, the blockage will focus around a past trauma. In others, they manifest as a kind of emptiness. That seems to be the case with you.”

“That I’m empty?” Hux says, too sharply. He feels exposed, but also strangely better when Ren touches him again, his hands settling over Hux’s shoulders this time.

“Not empty, exactly,” Ren says. “Wanting.”

“What?” Hux feels sliced open by that word, and as if Ren will know this-- as if that’s why Ren said it.

“This is in the way,” Ren says, reaching for the hem of Hux’s tank. “I can address your physical needs more fully if I remove it.”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Hux asks, startled by the volume of his own voice in the small room. “Has Snoke pimped you out to me?”

“No. He asked that I examine you thoroughly. I can only do so if I clear away some of your blockages. You require physical attention.”

Hux’s mouth hangs open. He waits for Ren to laugh or at least smirk, but his expression is very serious. He doesn’t appear to be annoyed by the prospect of unwinding some vague spiritual tension in Hux, just focused on the task at hand. Which is apparently related to Hux’s physical needs.

“I don’t understand,” Hux says, shivering when he feels Ren’s knuckles brushing over his belly. Ren is still holding the hem of Hux’s undershirt, still waiting for permission to remove it.

“I think you do understand,” Ren says. “Even at the very beginning of this session, you were trying to remember the last time someone touched you in a pleasurable way.”

“I-- What? I wasn’t--”

“Lying to me is a waste of time, General. I’ve seen your mind.”

“You’ve seen-- What? That I need-- Something from you? Physically?”

Hux tries to laugh it off, but when Ren’s knuckles pull back Hux leans forward to recapture his touch, and he can see a glimmer of something in Ren’s eyes when he notices this-- Not quite amusement, but also not quite stoic dedication to his alleged assigned task.

“You’re quite overheated,” Ren says, pressing his knuckles into the soft flesh over the waistband of Hux’s briefs. “Shall I remove this for you?”

“Yes,” Hux says, feeling as if the word formed on his tongue without his permission. For a moment he’s afraid Ren is manipulating him somehow, but the relief of lifting his arms so Ren can peel off his sticky undershirt feels like it’s entirely Hux’s own, pure and complete when his sweat cools on his skin.

“There,” Ren says, tossing the undershirt aside. “That’s better.”

“I’m a very busy man,” Hux says, defensive, making his eyes hard when Ren peers down at him with what might be sympathy. “And I must protect my-- My sense of authority, at all costs. One of those costs has been to my personal rendezvous, perhaps, but I hardly think Snoke would rather have me fucking around with the crew than-- Than be blocked, or whatever you call it.”

“You’re right,” Ren says. “That’s why he sent me to personally assess your state of mind, prior to bringing you truly into the fold.”

“The fold.” Hux frowns up at Ren and squares his shoulders. “So you’re being made to do this, by him, in other words?”

“It’s to our mutual advantage. I agree with Snoke on this point.”

“What-- What’s to our mutual advantage?”

“This,” Ren says. He puts his hands on Hux’s shoulders, then moves them slowly downward, over the goosebumps that rose again when Ren peeled off Hux’s undershirt. “Unfortunately, I am still mortal. I have certain cravings. In assisting you with your own, mine will also be satiated.”

“What.” Hux’s mind is reeling. He sucks in his breath when Ren touches his chest, settling both of his big hands over the spread of Hux’s ribs.

“You understand,” Ren says, holding Hux’s gaze. “Relax, General. This is part of how you’ll gain our trust.”

“Our-- Snoke wants this?”

“No, he’s indifferent. He asked me to fully examine you. In attempting to do so, I’ve uncovered some blockages. I now have a treatment plan for you. If you’ll lie back on this table, I’ll clear away your blockages, and then will complete my examination.”

“I’m confused,” Hux says, his stomach trembling when Ren’s thumbs sweep down to brush over it.

“You want to be confused,” Ren says. “But you know exactly what I’m suggesting. Lie back and receive the attention you need, or leave. I don’t have time for your prideful dithering.”

Hux hesitates, carefully assessing his mental state. He feels clear-headed in the sense that he knows he wants to lie back and find out what Ren means to do with him, but fuzzy from being touched this way, and from Ren’s alternately opaque and blunt description of whatever the fuck is going on. He flicks his eyes up to Ren’s, almost nervous, and feels it like another touch when Ren gives him a hard stare, asking him to make up his mind.

“This is ludicrous,” Hux mutters, for good measure, as he lies back on the exam table, the sheer act of doing so making his cock stiffen inside his sweat-damp briefs. “I refuse to believe this could be part of Snoke’s instructions for you,” Hux says when Ren comes to the side of the table and looms over him. “This is just you wanting to toy with me for your own gratification.”

“If you want to believe that,” Ren says, placing his hand at the center of Hux’s chest and spreading his fingers apart, “I’ll allow it.”

Hux feels like he should say something more, but his voice chokes away as Ren moves his hand upward. He grazes Hux’s left nipple with his thumb before bringing his fingers to Hux’s throat, where Ren’s thumb settles heavily over the frantic pump of Hux’s pulse.

“I’ve identified three areas where you need attention,” Ren says, pressing his thumb in against Hux’s pulse, just short of uncomfortable.

“Three areas,” Hux says, huffing. He’s fully hard now, and there’s no hiding it, but Ren’s eyes are focused with laser-like intensity on Hux’s face. “Let me guess,” Hux says. “My mouth and my arse are two areas where you’ll so nobly give me the attention you’ve discerned that I need.”

“Are you mentioning those in an attempt to distract me from this?” Ren asks, settling his left hand over Hux’s cock, his right hand still closed lightly around Hux’s throat.

Hux snaps his eyes shut when he feels himself bucking up against the heat of Ren’s palm. The hand on his throat tightens slightly, and Hux’s heart rate picks up. He spreads his legs, slowly, leaving his panting mouth open as Ren reaches down to slide that perfect heat over his balls, then back up again. His hands are so big, and it’s been so long-- too long. Ren isn’t wrong about that.

“Take them off,” Hux says, twitching up against the imperfect friction. “Or reach inside, just, just--”

“When was the last time someone touched you here, General?” Ren asks.

Hux blinks up at Ren, so maddeningly aroused that he barely understands the question. He shakes his head, honestly can’t remember. That man in that bar, on that space station, during leave? Was that a year ago? Two? Hux had been drunk, anyway.

“When was the last time you had your hand on someone’s cock?” Hux asks, struggling not to rub himself up against Ren again.

Ren just smiles faintly in response. He moves his hand from Hux’s throat and down to his chest, rubbing his thumb over one stiff nipple, then the other. Hux presses his lips together and closes his eyes, breathes out through his nose. In response, Ren’s grip around Hux’s cock grows almost possessive, his long fingers closing around Hux like a cage.

“I told you,” Ren says, “This is something I crave, too. It’s distracting. It’s a pressure that must be occasionally released.”

“Your excuses for manhandling me are growing flimsier by the moment,” Hux says, unable to resist punctuating this with a hopeful upward twitch of his hips.

“Is it so hard to believe that this sort of cleansing of your mind could be required for me to see into you fully?”

“Yes.”

Ren’s lips quirk into a crooked half-grin when Hux looks at him again. Ren removes his hand from Hux’s cock, and seems to delight again in the broken moan that the loss of contact pulls from Hux, who is beyond any semblance of pride at this point, his knees tipped open and a wet spot over the tip of his cock spreading more widely across the crotch of his light gray briefs.

“Take them off,” Ren says, standing back. “Show me the need I saw in your mind.”

“You do it,” Hux says, snarling at him. “Use the Force.”

There’s a flash in Ren’s eyes as if he’s offended by this, and Hux is too punch drunk from everything that’s currently somehow happening to hold in a laugh. Ren responds by ripping Hux’s underwear down manually, with one hand. Hux is surprised when they don’t tear, and surprised again when Ren balls them up and stuffs them into the pocket of his robe. This action only makes Hux laugh harder, though he’s beginning to grow concerned about the look of rage that’s solidifying on Ren’s features.

“Did you just put my underwear in your pocket?” Hux asks. “Or am I fully hallucinating now?”

“Shut up.” Ren takes hold of Hux’s cock, effectively shutting him up. “Now I’m going to unlock your first blockage,” Ren says, his grip on Hux tightening to an almost uncomfortable degree. “Prepare yourself.”

“Right.” Hux grabs the sides of the examining table at last, feeling overly exposed but also very good, a bit like he was in fact just a uniform and Ren has done something to bring him to life. “Is there something else I need to do in order to prepare?” Hux barks when Ren just stares down at him darkly, holding onto Hux’s cock as if it’s a lever on an amusement park ride and he’s about to throw the switch.

“Now we begin,” Ren says, leaning down toward Hux, who is half-expecting a kiss when Ren’s forehead settles against his own. Ren takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and exhales, his over-large nose jammed against Hux’s cheek. He’s still holding onto Hux’s dick, his grip on it still alarmingly possessive, and when his other hand slides beneath the back of Hux’s neck, Hux feels as if Ren is supporting his weight entirely, as if the exam table has dropped away.

“What the hell--” Hux tries to say, but then a charge that feels like a mental slap jars through him, cutting his voice away.

Ren is in his head. Sifting through memories. Hux tries to throw Ren out when he sees the dormitory at the Academy as if he’s watching a holofilm in his own mind.

It’s okay, Ren says, sending this bizarrely effective reassurance to Hux without actually speaking. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

Hux doesn’t know what that means, but the sound of Ren’s voice in his head is strangely comforting, though the fact that Ren is seeing this still isn’t: Hux as a teenager, unwilling to be caught by the others in the dorm with his hand down his pants-- which was a game they had, catching each other and shining a torchlight on the unlucky offender, everybody laughing --and therefore resorting to rolling onto his belly and very discreetly humping his mattress in an attempt to find some relief, frequently not getting enough friction to do anything but frustrate himself to near tears. He was always hard in the showers the next morning, which somewhat defeated the purpose of being so determined not to touch himself where the others might see, but still he couldn’t bring himself to touch his dick with his hand in that dormitory, where the motion of his wrist would be lewdly obvious under the thin regulation blanket. Five years of this, and the whole thing balled up inside Hux until he didn’t even like touching himself in private, because it made him jumpy and ashamed, killing his arousal. Even when he finally had his own room he preferred humping his bed, finally able to do so with mattress-shaking gusto, and he eventually also grew bold enough to reach back and dig two fingers into his ass as he imagined someone holding him down and fucking him from behind, the weight of a larger man pressing him to the bed and wringing a kind of unbidden pleasure from Hux as his cock dragged across the mattress, helplessly aroused.

This is how Hux prefers to masturbate, to this day, and now Ren knows.

Hux snaps his eyes open, panting, and finds Ren’s face hovering over his.

“What the fuck,” Hux says, dimly aware that he’s grinding his dick up against Ren’s palm, actually quite close to coming under the glare of this merciless scrutiny. “What--”

“I didn’t like it either,” Ren says, his voice a low rumble, breath on Hux’s face. “Snoke was always-- I was never alone in my own head, so. I felt watched. Couldn’t enjoy it. I, uh. I used the shower head on myself. Made the water really hot. Told myself that it would look like I was just cleaning. That was how I did it. I always felt guilty, or like I’d be caught-- Like my parents would be able to tell that the showerhead had been readjusted, put back wrong. I mean, I made that water-- So hot.”

Hux stares up at Ren, on the verge of having some disturbingly concrete vision of a teenager with his wet, dark hair covering his face while he points a dangerously hot stream up water up his own ass. Hux winces and fights away from this. He’s glowering at Ren when he recovers, and throbbing in Ren’s hand.

“Why did you just tell me that?” Hux asks, disliking the way this question seems to tremble out of him. Ren shrugs.

“I have to expose your memories in order to clear your blockages,” Ren says. “Most people don’t like that feeling of exposure. About sex stuff. So I thought you might like to see mine, too. It’s only fair.”

“I could rather live without vivid images of you jerking off as a teenager, thanks.”

“Fine.” Ren looks down at Hux’s cock like he’d almost forgot he was holding it. “Roll over. If that’s what you like. I’ll do that.”

“You--” Hux isn’t sure if Ren means he’ll fuck Hux mercilessly against the exam table or stuff two fingers up Hux’s ass while humps himself to orgasm. Hux thinks about it and finds that he doesn’t care which thing Ren has planned, as long as Hux gets to come sooner rather than later. When Ren releases him, Hux groans and rolls onto his stomach, almost finishing just from the sensation of settling into place. Ren moves toward the supply cabinet to fetch some lubricant and a single plastic glove. Hux rests his hot cheek on the exam table and releases a long, shaky breath that feels like visceral relief as it leaves him.

“By your logic,” Hux says, “According to what you just said about Snoke always watching you-- Does that mean he’s seeing us now?”

“No.” Ren snaps the plastic glove onto his right hand and approaches the exam table with the lubricant in his other hand. “I can have certain things for myself. Harmless interludes. I understand that now. When I was young, I was afraid to ask.”

“And Snoke didn’t sense this fear and volunteer the answer?”

Ren gives Hux a look that seems to suggest that was a very stupid question. Hux supposes it probably was. He spreads his legs a bit as he watches Ren slick two of his gloved fingers with lubricant.

“Next blockage,” Ren says. “Ready?”

“I’m lying here waiting for you to stick your fingers in me, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the same as being ready--” Ren shakes his head and brings his slicked fingers down, drawing them through the crack of Hux’s ass until he has Hux gasping and writhing and bucking back wantingly. “There’s no sense explaining anything to you,” Ren says when one finger dips down and enters Hux with an unceremonious push. “You don’t care about the truth.”

“What?” Hux laughs madly against the exam table, holding back a moan as he struggles to get more of Ren’s finger into him.

“The truth,” Ren says, sharply, and Hux whines when he feels another memory overtaking him.

Worse than before: Hux on his knees for a superior officer, the first man he ever slept with. Hux never had any affairs at the Academy-- They’d all hated him there, suspicious that he was an informant for his father. Hux had his first everything with this older man, a captain who was only five years younger than Hux’s father. Hux enjoyed it at the time, despite his various anxieties that mostly had to do with being caught, but the memories don’t feel good now. Hux doesn’t want Ren seeing them, but he already has: the officer in his chair, Hux kneeling before him and sucking him off, Hux’s mouth getting that much wetter for every refrain of Good boy that the man offered as he stroked Hux’s hollowed cheek one with hand and his hair with the other.

“My first was older, too,” Ren says when the memory dissipates and Hux hears himself whimpering as Ren slides a second finger into him. “I don’t know what his age was. I didn’t know his name-- I never even saw his face. He was one of the Knights. He desired me and I offered myself to him. It was ceremonial, almost ritualistic, and silent. I tried to be silent, anyway. It scared me, but I liked it.”

Hux rubs himself frantically against the exam table while Ren fucks him too slow with his fingers. This time Hux doesn’t fight away the images Ren offers: Ren on his back, completely exposed, knees drawn up against his chest as a dark figure overtakes him, the man’s face hidden behind a mask that resembles the one Ren favors now, nothing but this masked man’s ramming cock visible enough to indicate that he was even human.

“Fuck,” Hux says, shuddering, startled by this. “Don’t show me that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s--” Hux shakes his head and clenches around Ren’s fingers, wondering if Ren will hear the answer even if Hux doesn’t say it out loud: You still looked too young.

“I was of age, according to their rules.”

“Whose rules-- What?”

“The Knights. Never mind. You looked young, too. On your knees for that old man.”

“He wasn’t-- He was thirty-seven--”

“Shh. You’re close. You should finish before we move on.”

As if to underscore this, Ren swipes his fingertips over Hux’s prostate, hard and deliberate. Hux can feel Ren drinking it in when Hux shouts and bucks back, his ass lifting off the exam table before he presses his hips down again, fucking himself against the table’s plastic surface. The friction isn’t right: Hux prefers bedsheets, and he usually has three fingers in himself by now. He’s a trembling mess and Ren is seeing it: everything, truly, Ren has seen it all now.

“Not yet,” Ren says. “Get up on your knees. I can help.”

“What-- How--”

“Shh, General. You’re suffering. Let me help. Go on. Good, like that.”

Indeed, just like that: Hux is on his elbows and knees for Kylo Ren, groaning and nodding when Ren takes his cock in hand and pumps him, fucking Hux’s ass with his fingers more briskly now, brushing over his prostate every time he withdraws, then again when he slides back in, easily now, Hux well-worked and open for him.

“You could fuck me,” Hux says when he’s close, shaking, out of his mind for how ready he feels. “Ren--”

“I know,” Ren says. “I could fuck you so well, General. The way you like it, when you let yourself have it. So hard. Deeper than you’ve ever been fucked, too. You would cry and thank me and beg me not to stop.”

Hux curses Ren when comes, but it’s with a kind of broken gratitude, and he doesn’t care if Ren understands that. He doesn’t care about anything as he spills himself onto the exam table and over Ren’s fingers, wiping at the wet corner of his mouth with his wrist when he starts to regain a shaky thought process.

Hux looks back over his shoulder, expecting to find Ren undoing his belt and climbing up onto the exam table to deliver what was promised. Despite his climax, Hux is close to begging for it, slick and ready, feeling hollow when Ren’s fingers withdraw. Hux has to swallow down a disappointed groan when Ren helps him up into a seated position. Ren reaches into his robes not for his cock but for Hux’s damp underwear. Hux hisses under his breath when Ren uses them to clean Hux’s spent cock, then his chest. When he’s finished, Ren wipes his hand clean, balls up the underwear again and, insanely, puts them back into his pocket.

“One more,” Ren says. His voice is a bit thick, but Hux can’t tell, when he looks down in unashamed curiosity, if Ren is aroused or not. He must be-- Ren said this is for him, too, and his cheeks are faintly pink, pupils fat.

“One more what?” Hux asks, blinking heavily.

“Blockage. Sit up straight. Good, like that.”

Ren runs his hand down over Hux’s back as if he’s checking to make sure his posture is just right, then puts one hand between Hux’s ribs, the hand on Hux’s back drawing up to settle between his shoulder blades. Hux feels held in place solely by Ren’s hands again, as if the exam table is doing none of the work. He’s never been so shaken after an orgasm, but it’s not a bad feeling. It’s peaceful, like he’s shuddered off the worst of some insidious fever that had been lodged under his skin for too long. Ren takes a deep breath, and Hux mimics him, exhaling when Ren does.

“This is the hardest one to get rid of,” Ren says. “But it’s good that you already had a physical release.”

Hux closes his eyes, disliking where his mind is traveling. His sniper training. Of course. Lieutenant Pieri. Also older than Hux, but only by three years. Hux was assigned to accompany Pieri on what normally would have been a solo mission. Hux was instructed to learn from him. Pieri was handsome, but in a way that Hux was typically immune to: overly so, too prone to using his smile to get what he wanted, big brown eyes and thick, dark hair. He must have known what he was doing, standing at Hux’s back and whispering corrections and praise in Hux’s ear as he aimed the heaviest gun they used, helping Hux bear the weight of it when his arm began to shake. Nothing happened between them, but Hux had a very hard time ripping his mind away from that nothing when the mission ended. Pieri had a wife and a young son. He didn’t want Hux, but he had seemed to want Hux to want him, on that mission. Hux should have hated him for it. Pieri disappeared during a top secret mission a few years later. He’s still listed as missing in action. Hux checks his status in the Order’s database, occasionally.

“Mine was similar,” Ren says when Hux’s eyes refocus on his. Hux blinks, confused, overcome but not exactly upset, and actually somewhat relieved to find Ren here with him. He’d felt so alone, for a moment, in his memories.

“Similar?” Hux says when Ren shows him no visions. Ren’s hands are still pressed against Hux’s chest and back, as if he’s holding Hux not just between his hands but within this moment, firmly located in time and space only because Ren is steadying him here.

“This kid I trained with,” Ren says. “Under Luke. A few years older than me. He didn’t like me. I didn’t really like him either, but I wanted-- Things, from him. Everybody liked him. He had this face-- I wanted to punch his stupid face. Once, I did. Too hard. Anyway, eventually I killed them all.”

“Let go of me,” Hux says, but he doesn’t mean it, and is afraid he’ll drop through the floor if Ren does. Ren doesn’t let go. He moves forward, closer, until Hux’s vision blurs and he sees that boy Ren thought he loved, back when he was training to be a Jedi. He was just a sandy-haired boy with light eyes and a dumb smile, an even dumber padawan’s braid trailing from his hair. Hux wants to punch him, as if Ren’s teenage self has possessed him. “Stop,” Hux says, sensing that Ren is about to show him more: the day when Ren did punch this boy, or the day when Ren killed him along with the rest of his classmates. Hux knows the story.

“Okay,” Ren says, and he eases Hux back into the present, where Hux is still clamped between Ren’s hands. “You’re ready.”

“There’s more?” Hux asks, his voice cracking with dread. Ren sniffs, almost smiles.

“It’ll be easy now,” he says. “Phase three. You’re all clear. I’ll just look straight into you.”

“Fuck,” Hux mutters, though he doesn't feel he has anything to hide now. It’s strange that this feels good, especially because it’s fucking Ren who is looking directly into him now, his hands returning to Hux’s temples. “Don’t you want to clear your own mind first?” Hux asks, reaching down into Ren’s robes.

Ren gasps and tightens his grip on Hux’s head when Hux’s hand settles over the bulge of Ren’s half-hard cock. When Hux increases the pressure, Ren twitches away and makes a half-swallowed sound under his breath, a weak little thing that catches Hux off guard-- Ren is not half-hard, not technically. He’s going soft, over-sensitive and spent. He came in his pants at some point during that blockage-erasing session.

“Well,” Hux says, squeezing lightly so that Ren will twitch again, a delightfully pathetic look crossing Ren’s face before his scowl returns. “You’re really big, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.” Ren taps his thumbs over Hux’s temples, making him gasp. It’s like a mild shock, not quite painful but uncomfortably intense. “Are you going to leave your hand on me when I do this?” Ren asks. It sounds somewhat like a dare.

“No.” Hux slides his hand up over Ren’s chest, pausing to feel his heartbeat. It’s quick, powerful. Hux pushes his hand up along the pale length of Ren’s throat, surprised that Ren is allowing this. He seems a bit dumbstruck by whatever just went on. Hux touches Ren’s temple not with his thumb but with his right pointer finger, leaving his thumb on Ren’s cheek. He reaches up to snug his left hand around the other side of Ren’s face in the same way.

“Don’t do that,” Ren says, still holding Hux’s head between his hands.

“Why not?”

Ren can’t seem to come up with an answer, his mouth dropping open and his eyes searching Hux’s.

“Have you seen all the way into me yet?” Hux asks, feeling bold, as if Ren has accidentally given up too much by trying to take something from Hux. In fact, Hux thinks that might be precisely what just happened. Ren’s eyes are shining, uncertain.

“I’ve never done this before,” Ren says. “Snoke said it would be intuitive.”

“So you’ve been making it all up as you go along? I might have known. Here’s something else I don’t think you’ve done before.”

Hux leans forward, keeping his eyes open as he presses his lips to Ren’s. As Hux predicted, Ren reacts cluelessly-- Like someone who has certainly seen and perhaps even obsessed over the sight of other people kissing, but who has never had to deal with the mechanics himself. Ren’s nose is immediately in the way as he tries to overcompensate for his obvious inexperience by licking Hux open too wetly, and he snags a tooth against Hux’s bottom lip when Hux grunts and tries to take control, attempting to direct Ren into a more languid pace. Possibly the tooth was intentional. Hux pulls back to catch his breath and check Ren’s expression, expecting to find gratitude and bewilderment in his eyes. Ren looks irritated, mostly, but he lingers in Hux’s space as if he’s hoping for more of what just annoyed him.

“You don’t like not being good at something right away,” Hux says. “That’s new for you.”

“Oh, look,” Ren says. “You’ve finally let your guard down.”

Ren’s hands are still on Hux’s head. Hux gasps when Ren’s fingers tighten there, and he tries to stay focused on Ren’s eyes, afraid of the unspooling feeling that makes his shoulders go lax as Ren flexes his thumbs over Hux’s temples once, twice. Hux feels himself getting hard again, and remembers that he’s still naked, and then, absurdly, that his underwear are still in the pocket of Ren’s robe.

“Good,” Ren says, softly, the word sending a warm peel of pleasure from Hux’s temples and down along the length of his body in twin throbs of heat, all the way to his heels. “That’s good, General. Your sincere cooperation with us is confirmed.”

“Don’t say us,” Hux says, shoving Ren away as soon as Ren’s thumbs have disconnected from Hux’s temples, leaving behind only a kind of buzzing satiation that Hux mostly resents. “You’re not ‘us’ when it’s me sitting naked here with you. Snoke isn’t-- You said he can’t see this.”

Ren shrugs one shoulder. “It’s more like he doesn’t care enough to give it any attention.”

“Fantastic. Can I get dressed now?”

“If you like.”

“I’ll take my underwear, then.”

Ren shakes his head. “I get to keep those,” he says. He grins at the look on Hux’s face.

“You’re disgusting,” Hux says.

“You kissed me,” Ren says.

“Only to prove that you’re bad at it. Give me my clothes, at once.”

“Certainly,” Ren says, bending down to retrieve Hux’s pants. “I didn’t realize I’d robbed you of the ability to use your legs.”

“You didn’t.” Hux scowls and hugs his pants to his chest, watching Ren bend down to somewhat tenderly return Hux’s socks to his feet. This is some ploy, like this whole thing was, but Hux just allows it to happen, again, until he’s sitting on the exam table in nothing but his socks. “Are you really not going to give me back my underwear?” Hux asks when Ren stands to face him, not even blushing.

“They’re ruined,” Ren says. “What do you want them for?”

“What do you want them for?”

Ren answers this by leaning in to kiss Hux again, lazily this time. Ren is slightly better at it already, and he’s smirking when he pulls back, maybe because Hux tried to follow his lips as he moved away.

“I’m not going to sleep with your come-crusted briefs under my pillow,” Ren says. “Don’t worry.”

“That’s hardly what I’m worried about at the moment.”

Hux slides off the exam table and into his pants, doing them up before searching for his belt and shirt, both of which have been shrewn carelessly on the floor. He begins to feel the strange calm that Ren infused him with fading away, and grows increasingly perturbed at the knowledge that Ren is watching him dress.

“Shouldn’t you be scampering off to your room to change your own underwear?” Hux asks, glancing back at Ren as he buttons up his tunic. “Seeing as you went off inside them like a kid while you administered to me?”

“I don’t wear underthings,” Ren says.

“Of course you don’t.”

“You should go back to your room and rest. Your medbay appointment is on your schedule for another half hour. That should do.”

“Should do-- For what?”

“For recovering your strength,” Ren says, approaching Hux as if he’s going to help steady him when Hux wobbles a bit on his feet as he bends to get his coat and hat from the chair where he’d placed them.

“I’m fine,” Hux says, swatting Ren way and wobbling backward, out of his reach. “Despite your best efforts to dizzy me with mind games.”

“It wasn’t a game. It’s a relief. Now I know you can be trusted.”

“Yes? And do I know that about you?”

Ren looks down at the floor as if he’s suddenly bashful. It’s got to be another trick. Hux stands with this coat folded over his arm, watching him.

“Perhaps I failed,” Ren says, his face stony again when he looks up at Hux.

“At what?”

“You were supposed to be able to feel it, too.”

“Feel what? Can you never just say what you fucking--”

“That you can trust me,” Ren says, sharply, frowning. “You were supposed to-- It was supposed to be a mutual exchange.”

“Well.” Hux shrugs his greatcoat on over his shoulders and secures his hat on his head. He needs a shower and a change of clothes more than a nap; he can smell his own sweat. “I did kiss you,” he says, mumbling this as he walks past Ren. “You can take that as a sign of my trust or not. Seems to me you’re not very intuitive at all if you need me to tell you whether or not you should.”

Ren catches Hux’s arm before he can reach the door of the room. Predictably. Hux peers up at him from under the shadow of his command cap, hoping that he looks like someone not to be trifled with, and not like someone who is about to collapse from a bone-deep exhaustion that probably will force him to take an actual nap for the first time in approximately ten years.

“I picked you,” Ren says, somewhere between a whisper and a growl. “He let me pick.”

“What?” Hux feels as if he’s lost his footing again, like Ren is holding him over some chasm, needing only a semi-firm grip on Hux’s forearm to keep him from falling.

“Why do you think you’re my age?” Ren asks. “And so like me?”

“So--” Hux barks a laugh at the idea that he’s anything like Ren. A sudden and ferocious insecurity trembles at the center of him, but he dismisses it for now. It’s not as if he can take anything Ren says at face value. “Look, enough,” Hux says, shaking himself free. “You know where to find me if you want to conduct yourself like an adult for once and fuck me properly, without all this theatrical side business.”

Hux walks out then, feeling Ren’s eyes on him as he goes. He feels something else, too-- A kind of residue Ren left behind. It’s not a monitoring presence, which was Hux’s initial concern. As he walks away he feels it more like a fortification: when Hux’s legs threaten to turn to jelly, something warm that’s still surging through his bones seems to strengthen them. He tells himself it’s simply his own resolve and keeps moving, hurrying toward the respite of his private quarters, unable to shake the sense that he left something behind in medbay: just his underwear, he decides, and Ren can have his perverse trophy. Hux hopes they won’t end up under Ren’s pillow or anywhere near in Ren’s bed at all, though he also finds himself hoping, for some reason, that Ren won’t throw them away.

**