Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I thought it would be interesting to explore the idea that Hux and Poe had met before the events of "The Force Awakens." This is the first time I have written any Gingerpilot, so that's that on that my dudes.
Disclaimer: sexual content, one night stand, pre-The Force Awakens, anal sex, oral sex, smidge of body worship, nudity, adult language, and a surprising amount of feelings and romance in contrast to the lube ratio.
Pragma (Eros)
Chapter One
It was the small noise of protest that made him look up. That made him try and kiss him again, even when the red-head turned his head to the side. This time with an arrogant arc to the dismissal, coy as it was. Making him stop just to ask as the play of the man's cheekbones cut violent and sallow in the low light.
"What is it?" he murmured carefully - lips still burning from where they'd grazed across the man's stubble moments before. Curious despite the warning signs. Pulled in like light to a black hole as the red head tilted his chin and eyed him wearily. Taking him in from head to toe before swallowing the rest of his drink with barely a grimace despite the fact they were drinking the same bottom-barrel swill. The kind of rot-gut that eats through your insides unless you eat it first.
"Nothing good will come of this," the red-head responded. Smooth and calm like snide emotionlessness was a mask he'd learned to control from the cradle.
And maybe he had.
Force, if he knew.
He'd only met the man a few hours ago. Catching the glint of ginger hair from across the crowded club as the man crossed through the sea of bodies to the bar. Walking like a man who expected others to part in front of him. And for the most part, they did. The man had the 'murder walk' down to an exact science. Taking in the strobing lights and writhing bodies like he was holding court and simultaneously above it all before he pushed back his hair and crooked a finger at the bartender.
It'd been lust at first sight, if he was being completely honest. And frankly, he couldn't think of a better way to wait out the span of hours until his transport finished refueling and some routine maintenance.
"Oh, I don't know. I have a pretty solid track record when it comes to this kind of thing," he returned easily, signalling to the bartender to pour them another round.
The corner of the man's mouth quirked slightly. Like he was about to smile in spite himself. Muscles loosened by the strength of the club's booze and the clinging vapor exhaled from the hookas on the far side of the room. Every part of his rigid lines and iron-clad discipline just screaming for a night of freedom.
He had a soft spot for the tough nuts to crack.
The ones who really needed to just let go for a little while.
But he wasn't stupid either.
He knew enough to know that the man was receptive.
If he played his cards right.
"You're very confident," the red-head hummed, allowing him to move a half-step closer as they leaned against the bar. Tipping his chin up enough that he could feel the warmth of the man's breath against his neck. The sensation was so ground-breaking it almost made him shiver. Making him wonder just what the hell was in the water around here until those pale blue eyes settled into arrogant slits to watch him.
And just like that, it was impossible not to respond.
"With good reason," he returned, leaning in just enough to part the man's lips with his and press white heat against white heat. Kissing him like it was a competition and an exercise in lazy-finesse all in one. Unable to remember the last time someone had affected him like this as he pushed the envelope - trying to get closer. Feeling greedy and maybe even a little bit desperate as he inhaled laundry-starch and faded gun-metal before the man moved away again. Body language still wary despite the pink tint that was spreading in the spaces between the freckles that dotted faintly across the man's cheeks.
"So you say," the red-head murmured, just shy of breathless this time. Seeming to realize the same moment he did that sometime between then and now their fingers had met across the pitted surface of the bar counter. Trading barely-there brushes before the man curled the digits away again.
"I do," he grinned, smoky low and slow like he wasn't already in desperate need of readjusting the cut of his trousers. Making no effort to hide the way he was eying the dress coat the man was wearing. Appreciating the black military style and how it clung in all the right places, before his thoughts ran in a different direction. Wondering what it would be like to be the one who got to take it off. Preferably in a bedroom.
Still, he wasn't that far gone not to wonder what had the guy so skittish. It wasn't like this was the type of place that cared who you were or where you were going. It was a deep-port dive where the only thing that mattered was if you had enough credits for the space you were taking up.
He watched the man's body language as he nursed his drink. Leaning his hip against the bar as he made an innocent show out of stretching. There was no dichotomy into nights like this and certainly no ill-intent. Just mutual pleasure and a good memory or two for when you were gone and good things were hard to come by.
So why was this guy so tense?
He was here, after all.
You didn't come to a place like this if you didn't want something- or someone.
Maybe he just needed to hear the right thing.
"Listen," he started, nudging at the point of the man's shoulder with an easy sort of comradery he could tell made the man uncomfortable. "If the morning after is what you're worried about, don't. I'm on the first transport out anyway. And if it's something else, well, I'm also fine with sitting here and drinking until neither of us can walk straight. I'm flexible that way. You're here- I'm here, and for right now, I like that. No matter what happens next."
He wasn't exactly surprised to realize he meant it. But the man's snort made him suppress a laugh anyway. Heady with liquor and the high stakes banter.
"Does that line work often?" the red-head asked. Arching a brow at him like he thought he was being utterly ridiculous.
"I'll let you know, considering its the first time I've tried it," he returned with a smile. Catching his reflection in the dirty stainless steel across from them as his expression went roguish.
Somewhere on the other side of the bar a woman laughed. High, throaty and full of life as a chorus of male voice rose up after like an echo. Normally it would be the kind of thing he'd turn to look at. But this time looking away wasn't even on his mind. There was something about this guy he couldn't shake. A presence that existed somewhere between an open invitation and the pitching whine of a phaser powering up for the kill. In his defense, walking the line between the two possibilities was almost irresistible.
"You know, I actually believe you," the red-head finally murmured. Smirking fully this time - but still not quite a smile - as he finished his drink and let his hand drop underneath the bar-counter.
"I have a room," the man continued, passing him a nondescript key card under the cover of the table. Thin fingers brushing against his calluses. "Follow me in a half an hour and do try not to be seen, hmm? The code on the card is only good for the next hour, so I suggest you don't keep me waiting."
He was caught off guard again when the man paused long enough to kiss the corner of his mouth before he moved away. Trusting the slightly lighter gravity of the space port as he hid the pass-key in his fist and wobbled through the aftershocks. Unable to help the hand that came up, brushing absently at his lower lip. Still able to feel the sharp of the man's teeth as he stopped himself from turning around to watch him leave.
The grin on his face was indecent before he hid it by knocking back the rest of his drink and tossing some credits onto the bar to settle the tab.
Seemed like this guy was full of surprises after all.
A/N: There will be one more chapter, stay tuned. Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think.
Reference:
- Pragma: love that is driven by the head, not the heart.
- Eros: a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love.