Slice of Heaven
Summary:
When Snoke sends Hux and Kylo on a reconnaissance mission to the human district of Upstate New York, the General expects to encounter some strange and antediluvian customs. What he was not expecting, however, was the natives' freakish preoccupation with pumpkins...
-Written for Huxloween month of October prompts on Tumblr and AO3
[excerpt]:
For the longest time, Hux placed pumpkins in the same aversive category as clone disease. It had nothing to do with their taste—truth be known, he's never even tried it. And up until now, those carotenoid-cursed items hadn't been hard to avoid, given that the Endorians had found little profitability in their exportation. But because his hair color is unfortunately reminiscent of that golden-orange hue, Hux has always viewed pumpkins as his bête noire.
Almost as much as ginger.
Trust his boyfriend to find a way to destroy thirty-plus years of carefully crafted avoidance.
~O~~O~
The humans who inhabited Earth were strange things.
Admittedly, Hux wasn't expecting too much, given the fact that the natives were still generations behind the technological advances of other galactic systems. Still, the climate was hospitable, the resources plentiful, and the infrastructure present (albeit primitive), so when the Supreme Leader requested his top commander and leading disciple to investigate the landscape and the culture of the region, Hux complied with surprising enthusiasm.
He discovered that there were some nice things to be found in the district of Upstate New York. The weather was pleasant—perfect, in fact, for immaculately tailored greatcoats and lightweight wools, or for snuggling under the covers with a long-limbed, deliciously muscular body at your side. The topography of the region was breathtaking: verdant valleys and pristine lakes, with the shadows of the Catskills and Adirondacks looming in the distance. Even the trees seemed magical- glorious bursts of brilliant scarlet and fanciful yellows which blanketed the ground and painted the skies.
According to their calendar, the planet was currently in the month of October, a period known for harvest and celebration, as well as the consumption of large quantities of beer.
Some of the traditions were more puzzling. Take, for instance, the denizens' fondness of corn. They grew acres and acres of vegetable, cutting a maze-like system of paths through the towering, identical stalks just so they could aimlessly wander around for hours and stare. Or their strange need to challenge their mortality by crawling around a house splattered in paint, chased by a chainsaw-wielding maniac to a soundtrack that could put a dying Wampa to shame.
Honestly, if a death wish was what these people truly desired, they should try Hosnian Prime.
But the strangest obsession has to be their fascination with all things pumpkin. It's everywhere: in the colors of their clothes, or in the lettering of their signs, or in the images decorating the flags which wave in front of their homes. It's added to their foods: in their pies, or their breads, or their muffins, or their lattes, or their ice creams, just to name a few. They pay homage to the pumpkin in the most peculiar ways: in the scent of their candles, or in the shape of their mellowcreme confections, or atop a mannequin stuffed with straw. And if they're not worshiping, they're mutilating, hollowing out and carving up its pulpy flesh as they transform the object of their infatuation into bizarre and fleeting works of art.
For the longest time, Hux placed pumpkins in the same aversive category as clone disease. It had nothing to do with their taste—truth be known, he's never even tried it. And up until now, those carotenoid-cursed items hadn't been hard to avoid, given that the Endorians had found little profitability in their exportation. But because his hair color is unfortunately reminiscent of that golden-orange hue, Hux has always viewed pumpkins as his bête noire.
Almost as much as ginger.
Trust his boyfriend to find a way to destroy thirty-plus years of carefully crafted avoidance.
Even now, Kylo is trying his patience.
"Hey Hux, look!" He grins lasciviously as he picks up two small and perfectly matched gourds.
Hux's green eyes widen. His worst suspicions are confirmed as Kylo winks at the two children who are watching curiously and proceeds to shove the diminutive melons underneath the folds of his robes, their protruding stems looking like obscene torpedoes as they jut from his chest.
"Hey mister, the Grim Reaper doesn't have boobs," one of the boys complained.
Kylo shrugs and pushes them down near his dick.
That earns a horrified gasp from the boys' mother and a scandalized look from Hux.
"Come on, Ren," Hux grits out, suddenly overcome with the need for a stiff drink. It's bad enough that they've spent the afternoon on a farm with acres of pumpkins littering the ground. Hux would rather not have several angry parents thrown into the mix.
Not that Hux really cares what these New Yorkers think. But between the abundance of pumpkins and the running, screaming children and the threatening pressure behind his eyes, it wouldn't take more than a couple of ill-advised comments from some indignant progenitors before Hux has to explain to Snoke why he felt it necessary to take out his blaster and give their sprogs a real haunted house, First Order style.
The setting rays of the sun compete with the yellow and scarlet of the trees as they make their way through the fields. The grounds are shimmering in orange and gold. Some pumpkins sit on their base, round and proud, while others lean lopsidedly, unsure of which way is up. Some are perfectly orange while others retain a hint of their former green, their stems dark-brown and furled, misshapen by the weight of their fruit.
The temperature cooled, settling into their bones. Hux looked around. There was a bakery on the corner, quaint and unassuming. It was doubtful they served the hard stuff, but at this point, a hot caffe would do.
The bell tinkled against the knotty, wooden door as they entered. The girl at the counter startled guiltily as she looked up from her magazine.
"Hi!" She said brightly, placing the copy of Popular Mechanics to the side. She tucked a wayward strand of light brown hair against her tanned and freckled ear. "What can I get you?"
"A large coffee. Black."
The girl stared. "Black?" she repeated, as if Hux had just asked her for the moon. "Not even milk or sugar?"
"Black." Hux repeats, unable to keep the sharpness out of his voice. The girl would never last a day as a member of his crew.
She gave a shrug of her thin shoulders as she poured the piping hot drink into a thick paper cup. "Anything for you?" she asks Kylo in a resigned tone.
Kylo stared at the board. Its black background was filled to its edges with information about all sorts of coffee sizes and flavors, written in a variety of colored chalks and a feminine, flourished hand.
"Umm-what do you suggest?" he asks the girl, wincing at Hux's impatient sigh.
The girl looked him up and down. "Huh. I would have taken you for the plain black." She grows more animated. "Well, since you're more adventurous than your friend, why don't you try our Harvest Special? It's super popular this time of year. It's yummy- pumpkin and vanilla, with hints of nutmeg and clove. Oh, and I'd definitely recommend getting it with steamed milk."
" 'Kay," Kylo agrees, his full mouth spreading into an expectant grin. Hux stares at his lips, reminded of how they flush red when licked, and he wonders briefly if the Harvest latte will make it taste doubly as sweet.
"Budge over, Rey!" a voice calls out as the bell jingles once more. A man carrying a small tower of cardboard trays weaves his way towards the counter. He settles them down, his dark skin flushed from his efforts.
"Hey," he says by way of greeting before turning back to the girl.
"Got another delivery of Maz's pies." He took one out of the top box and placed in on the display rack, its top a deliciously glazed, honey brown. "Help me put the rest of them in the case?"
"Soon as I finish, Finn," Rey answered, pulling a bottle of creamy milk from the fridge. There was a loud hissing noise as the steam wand began to spin.
The boy stared at Hux, his brows furrowed and brown eyes narrowed in a squint.
"You guys from around here? You look familiar."
"No," says Hux smoothly. "Just visiting for the weekend."
"Oh." He bent down, placing an overfilled apple pie on the bottom shelf. "Well, you picked the perfect time for it. The leaves really came out this week, but they're not so far gone that the trees are bare, you know? And there's a ton of stuff going on, with the Pumpkin Festival and all." He slides another pie on the wire rack, which dips under the added weight.
He stands up and wipes his hands on his apron as he catches the direction of Kylo's gaze.
"It's Maz's famous pumpkin pie. She only uses Autumn Golds. Best pie around these parts if you ask me. Not that I'm biased or anything," he adds with a laugh.
Hux stared. The top looked pliant yet firm, the crimped crust golden with a smattering of caramelization from where the baked filling had bubbled over and oozed.
He wrinkled his nose. "Why would anyone want to eat a dessert made from a vegetable?"
Rey looked up. "Technically, pumpkin is a fruit. But trust me, it's amazing, you should try it. We also sell it by the slice."
"Yup. A little slice of heaven," Finn nods in agreement.
"You want to, Hux?" Kylo asks hopefully.
"No, thanks." He hands them some currency, hoping he didn't botch up the conversion too much as he notes the girl's overly-appreciative eyes. He pretends to fiddle with the plastic tab of his lid as they walk out, in an effort to avoid Kylo's disappointed look.
The bell's tinkle faded behind them as they stepped foot out the door. The sun glowed red, huge against the horizon.
Kylo took a sip of his latte. He suddenly stopped. "I want to ask them something," he said apologetically, a creamy white foam clinging to his upper lip.
Hux fought the urge to wipe it off, choosing to arch a brow instead.
"It's about the leaves," Kylo explained. "I'll be right back."
Hux sat on the wooden bench and waited, listening to excitable children and exasperated parents in the distance. After several minutes, he heard the returning footsteps and swish of Ren's robes as something weighty was placed onto his lap.
"What's this?" Hux asks. Before Ren can answer, his fingers have already worked the opening of the bag.
Hux looked at the contents awkwardly.
"Why do you like this so much?" Hux whispers, staring at the slice.
Ren looks embarrassed. "The pumpkin coffee was incredible. And this looked so good..." his voice trails off as he gestures helplessly. "I just wanted to share it with you."
He looked out across the street, where a boy dressed in a bubble-footed onesie clung sleepily against his father's chest.
"You know, my parents used to tell me stories of how the Ewoks decorated Bright Tree Village with pumpkins for the holidays." He watched the departing family wistfully. "It was the place where they fell in love."
He lowered his head, his large hands clasped tightly at his sides. When he finally peeked up, the General's green eyes were filled with surprise.
"How come you hate it so much?" Kylo asks.
Hux sighs, staring at the pumpkin patch in the distance, their deformed, rounded heads bobbing up towards the fading sun.
"Pumpkins remind me of my hair," he confessed, a bit nonplussed at how ridiculous it all sounds. "It was something they called me as a kid. It made me stand out, when all I wanted to do was to belong."
Kylo placed his hand on Hux's chin, tilting it up.
"You were born to stand out, Hux. It's one of the things I love about you the most."
Hux looked down, suppressing the tremble in his hands as he took out the slice. He folded the paper bag, smoothing out its creases before replacing the pie over the makeshift napkin on his lap. He hesitates, the slim hand which holds the fork hovering momentarily before he brings it down.
It slides through the filling, effortless and smooth. He places the morsel tentatively on his tongue, and can't suppress the moan that escapes as it melts in his mouth with an explosion of flavors, a sweet, milky custard chased down by a buttery, flaky crust.
He cuts an even larger piece, holding it out for Kylo. Ren's expression is practically ecstatic as the creamy confection rolls around the edges of his tongue.
"Who knew pumpkin could taste like that?" he wonders out loud. "It must be all those spices. Cinnamon. Nutmeg. Ginger…" Kylo stops suddenly, his eyes going wide.
Hux rolls his eyes. He exhales slowly, then lowers his fork to break off another piece.
"Must be," he agrees, placing it into his mouth.
Hux felt a squeeze as Kylo visibly relaxed, the Knight's strong fingers threading into his own. They sat in silence as they traded bites and watched the dusk claim the sky, until there was nothing left between them except for a pair of satisfied bellies and an empty plate.