A/N: Set immediately after Crait. Hux tries to retire to his quarters and get some rest, but the new supreme leader is not yet done with him.

Inspired by art from Pixie Punch! on Tumblr (pixie_punch on twitter).

The cold water felt good against his face. Hux's lips parted as he let his head hang over the sink. Salty, mineral-laced water dripped from him. His head was throbbing. His fingers twitched on the edges of the sink. Muscle spasms were not an uncommon side effect from the crash after prolonged usage of stimulants. He didn't regret it. There had been no other way to get through the preceding days. It wasn't like he'd been centered and well-rested going into the clusterfuck that the Battle of Crait had ended up being.

Outside the refresher, he heard the door to his quarters slide open. He jerked upright and yanked his blaster from the holster. He stepped out decisive and quick, the business end of the weapon trained on the intruder. Even in his muddled state, he was sure he'd locked that door. Seeing who it was, he realized locks didn't matter.

The 'Supreme Leader' himself stood there, looking unperturbed to have Hux pointing a blaster at him. Hux blinked at him, a dozen things struggling through his fatigue-impaired mind. Foremost was regret that if he had pulled the trigger immediately, he would have had the excuse of surprise (not that such held much legal weight, but then again, what sort of prosecution was there these days for being involved in killing the supreme leader? Given Ren's current status, apparently the answer was none.) Somewhere subsequent to that thought was that he was still holding a blaster leveled at Ren and at some point, Ren was going to lash out and end him.

It wasn't as terrible a prospect as it should have been.

Hux waited. Ren's brows crept up slightly. Their stand-off had been going on entirely too long now. There was no possible way to construe this as anything other than intentionally brandishing a weapon at a superior officer. Also, there was no possible way to construe Ren's response as anything other than Ren waiting to see if Hux would really pull the trigger. Which was ridiculous. Even exhausted as he was, angry, mutinous, and still hurting from being slammed around by this lout, Hux wasn't going to shoot his superior officer.

The blaster went back in its holster. Hux attempted to act like nothing important had happened. "Supreme Leader. To what do I owe the visit?"

"You left the hangar bay while I was distracted."

Hux considered that. Blearily. He wiped away some of the moisture on his face. Was it an accusation or just a statement? Why did his departure matter at all? His shift was long since over. The battle was done. He wasn't even in charge. Briefing everyone and giving orders was now Ren's job – a small perk of the man's usurpation that Hux felt no guilt in exploiting. "So I did."

"We have things to discuss."

"Do we?" But no, his tone would not do. It sounded confrontational and while Hux was far from above that, it was stupid if he truly intended to undermine Ren and more importantly, he was too tired to argue. He wouldn't do it effectively in his current condition. "I mean, we … certainly. I was just cleaning up." He waved vaguely at his quarters, trying to work out if he was supposed to invite Ren to have a seat or if he should rebutton his tunic and leave with the man. "I'm not sure what level of decorum …"

"Finish what you were doing."

Hux rolled his eyes, grumbled (doing such was stupid and unwise, but he was so tired that nothing seemed to matter), and went in the refresher. He continued taking off his tunic on autopilot, getting all the way to his waist before realizing the gun belt had to be removed first. He did so, shooting a glance to the side where he saw Ren had sat on the edge of his bed.

It was obnoxiously familiar, but hard to object to. It was the only place to sit that provided line of sight into the refresher and he would prefer that to having Ren stand around menacingly or prowling his quarters unseen. At least this way, the man looked … well, maybe not relaxed. "Are you tired as well," Hux asked in an attempt at conversation, "or does the Force prevent that?" He finished taking off his tunic and tossed it down the laundry chute.

"I'm tired. The Force helps."

Hux wet a cloth. "I left the hangar bay because the stims were wearing off. I can't … I won't function well. If you need me to work another shift, then I can visit the medbay. I've used up the stims I had available to me personally."

"No."

Good. Thank the stars. There were only so many stims you could take before one's judgment was dangerously impaired. As risky as that was for a stormtrooper who might get themselves killed or shoot a companion, it was far worse for someone in Hux's position who might make the wrong call. Like not being sharp enough to realize he should have blasted the Raddus out of existence instead of staying over-focused on the transports.

An argument could be made that he was responsible for the catastrophe that had resulted in, what? a million deaths on their side and concordant loss of material? Was that what Ren was here about? Overuse of stims also bred paranoia. He knew that, so he put his concern aside. He washed his face and rolled the cloth around to the back of his neck. The mineral was itchy where it had been trapped along his collar line. Ren was being strangely silent for someone who had urgent matters to discuss with him. Hux asked, "How go the rescue efforts?"

"They go. I'll have a full report tomorrow. For now, that's the first priority."

"Not following the Resistance?" He walked out of the refresher unsteadily, wondering if Ren was finally taking his advice on not getting distracted. The rest of the galaxy was there for the taking. Why waste resources trying to blast a few stragglers when entire planets waited for their conquest? The room seemed to be trying to spin, like he was drunk.

"No."

"Hardly anything left of them, anyway. If no one came to their aid, then they're … they're …" It was hard to find the right words. What he meant was 'they didn't matter'. But he was so tired. His tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth. His eyes wanted to slide shut. This was not the moment to take a nap, but his body didn't seem to care. Everything went black.

The last thing he heard was Ren's voice raised in alarm or at least surprise, saying, "Hux?" If it was a command, he was beyond responding to it.

When he woke, it was a slow process – all of it a routine catalog of stim abuse side effects. His head was throbbing. The pain took up nearly all his awareness. He felt bone-deep tired, like doing anything – anything at all – was too much. Even opening his eyes was an effort, but he managed it. He was in his bed, stripped to his undershirt, still wearing pants. His boots were gone. He was under a blanket. These last were not routine side effects.

The mattress shifted behind him. He was facing the wall and despite a spike of terror, it seemed too difficult to roll over. He felt paralyzed. Fingers touched his shoulder. Then the side of his neck. The hand touching him was bare. Cool fingertips moved to his temple and he was finally able to manage a coherent thought. There was only one person this could be, but why was another matter. "Ren?"

"Rest." Ren's voice. The hand moved on to his head. Inside his mind, Hux felt an option present itself – relax and let Ren take the pain away, or resist and suffer through it. He swallowed and rolled over – a more monumental task than it should have been, but he managed it. It was indeed Kylo Ren, who was also … somewhat undressed. He was in an undershirt and pants. Had they been sleeping together?

"What's going on?" Hux had not accepted the offer. His head still throbbed so much that his teeth ached. He felt nauseous.

"I need you back in operation as quickly as possible." Hux gave him an unconvinced look. Ren huffed. "Also, I can feel your pain. Let me take it away. I'll block your perception of it."

"Like a mind trick? Those only work on the weak-willed." Did that mean it would work on him or not? He resisted on principle. The only way he'd allow it was if Ren overpowered him.

Ren sighed. "Or on those who choose to allow it." He turned, mostly facing away with an unhappy set to his features. "Everyone … fights me. You're no different." His shoulders slumped. He rubbed at his own temples.

"Why wouldn't I?" Hux answered. "I wake up in pain with you in my bed, I …" What the hell was he supposed to do?

"I can help."

"I don't trust you! Why should I? You've done things! To me! Things that were uncalled for. Even mentioning them I think you'll kill me for!" He stopped there, displeased with his grammar. If they were to be his last words, he didn't want them inarticulate or jumbled.

Kylo Ren put his palm over the side of his own face. "They're not your last words."

"What, are you reading my mind? I didn't … Stop it."

"Stop broadcasting, then. You're tired. Your defenses are down. You're radiating pain. You're refusing help. I don't … I don't know what to do." He made a helpless, frustrated gesture with one arm. "With you. With anyone. I can't just burn it all down. I won't leave! I'm not going to abandon this!"

Did he mean the First Order? Leaving it was an option for Ren? It wasn't for Hux. He had nowhere he could go. Or wanted to go. "You sound like you're talking to yourself."

Ren glanced at him sourly, but fell silent.

"By all means, continue." Such emotional unburdening was bizarre behavior in the Order. Hux had no idea what to do with it, but it was interesting to hear. Maybe Ren would drop useful information.

Ren snorted. He pivoted and showed Hux his hands, held up between them, palms toward Hux. Hux looked at them with concern. Was this it, then? Would he be strangled? Beaten? Or was that just the paranoia talking? Ren moved his hands forward, to Hux's temples. This was it - he was going to force him to rest, overpower him with the Force. Snoke had done similar, so it shouldn't be a surprise that Ren would sink to the same depths. Hux tensed and stiffened his spine as he lay on the bed.

Ren's touches were gentle. His thumbs rested on Hux's temples. The thick fingers of his big hands threaded into his hair. Fingertips flexed rhythmically against his scalp. It felt good, but that was the power speaking, right? Ren's eyes slid shut. He kept moving his fingers in different patterns, then finally planted his far hand on the pillow and used the other to pet Hux's hair.

Hux finally relaxed. He blinked. Ren's eyes were still shut. Hux felt silly – fighting back against … nothing. Either the power had failed to take root, or Ren was playing a long game, or Ren had decided not to use the Force and was just … caressing him. Because it felt nice? Well, it did feel nice. Hux let himself relax in slow, wary stages.

This was familiar and intimate. It was something he had no precursor events to judge it against. He hadn't been handled like this since he was a boy and even then it had been something to be suspicious of and careful about. Hair tousling was as often as not followed by a slap. His father seemed to think the one demanded the other – you couldn't show approval without applying punishment. But … Hux realized he'd already been punished. Repeatedly. So maybe this was okay?

His lids felt heavy. His head didn't hurt as much. The gentle, soothing touches were lifting away the pain. Was it really a bad thing to accept a mental block from the rest of it? Jedi used to do it all the time as far as Hux knew. That was how Ren had made it through the Battle of Crait without stims. It wasn't weakness to allow it. That Ren even needed his permission was proof he wasn't weak. And this felt so nice. His eyes slid shut and stayed that way. He accepted the offer. The pain faded. Sleep returned.

The next time he woke, he felt better. He felt empty (and still tired) but not in pain. He rolled over to find that indeed, there was Kylo Ren, slumbering next to him. Hux stared at him for long moments, until his held breath demanded that he stop. Hux sucked in air. He rolled to his back and stared upward, considering his next step.

His knife was gone. It must have been removed from his arm when his undertunic had been taken off. But even if he had had it, he wasn't going to roll over and stab his bedmate to death. Supreme leader or no, there wasn't much point to such a murder. Even in the unlikely event he would get away with it somehow. Although now that he reflected, it wouldn't be bad to rule unfettered. The First Order reigned over the galaxy. All he needed to do was fail to fuck up. Which was why the Order would be better off with him in charge than this lunk next to him.

About said lunk … Ren's words from before came back to Hux: 'I don't know what to do'. Then the question of why Ren had come here: 'we have things to discuss.' And a last bit, that Hux inferred rather than being told: Ren was safer here than he was in his own quarters. No assassination attempt would expect to find him here. Not to mention the fact that Hux was the most likely to attempt to assassinate him and he'd already decided to put that possibility on indefinite hold.

The reason for that indefinite hold: the supreme leader was lost and looking for guidance. Whatever had happened with the girl from the Resistance, Snoke, the infiltration of the Supremacy, and the disaster of the Battle of Crait, the supreme leader was lost and now looking for Hux's guidance. Well. Yes. Definitely call off the assassination plots. Hux wanted to explore this.

He sat up and carefully climbed out of bed, leaving Ren undisturbed. To one side was a neat pile of Ren's clothes on the floor, topped by the man's light saber. Hux passed it by. In the refresher, his knife scabbard had been set on top of his gun belt. Here were his weapons. Out there was a (presumably) sleeping supreme leader. Hux snorted softly and closed the door. He went about getting a decent shower. That was more important.

When he exited, he was naked, hair wet and sticking in all directions. He moved to his wardrobe like he owned the place, which he did. They were his quarters and if Ren was going to impose himself, then he had to deal with Hux doing as he pleased. Ren was sitting on the edge of the bed, his own hair rumpled. He admired the view once before looking away. Hux turned to face him, underwear in hand but off to the side. "You want to look?" he said challengingly.

Ren's gaze came back, slowly, in a direct line to Hux's eyes. So direct that he was clearly not looking anywhere else.

If Hux didn't miss his mark, there was something of a blush on the supreme leader's cheeks. Hux taunted, "I didn't mean at my face. If you're interested in the rest …" He waved at himself mockingly. He did not look like much of anything – skinny and pasty like that offensive pilot had said. He had a thin, weedy body that lacked pleasing proportions that spoke of strength or martial skill. Out of uniform, no one looked at him twice.

Ren's gaze dropped. It was a slow perusal. Hux felt his cheeks heat, but he stood there anyway. He had never had anyone look at him like this. What glances he'd garnered as a teen or a cadet had been pitying at best. Hux became startlingly aware there was no pity in Ren's gaze – only hunger and interest. Hux swallowed. His heart was beating too fast all of a sudden. He felt … heavy … between his legs. Kriff. He was getting an erection! All it had taken was the barest whiff of interest from someone! Ren's eyes lingered on that.

"Have you seen enough?" Hux's voice squeaked humiliatingly.

Ren looked up at him. "I don't know. Have I?" he purred.

This was really happening. Hux was not going to retreat in the face of this sort of challenge. He met it head-on. He walked over to Ren, ignoring the dangling sway of his cock against his thighs as he moved. Ren didn't ignore it. But he tilted his head up to make eye contact when Hux stopped. Hux told him, "You want my cooperation? You know how to get it."

Ren reached out and touched the outside of Hux's thigh. "Do I?"

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who reads minds and patently knows what's going on." Though to be honest, Hux didn't know if he was pushing this too far. Ren had given him a few caresses last night and a look this morning. That didn't necessarily mean he was willing to do more. Ren sure wasn't acting offended, though.

Ren's hand smoothed up to Hux's buttock, fingers nudging a little, urging him forward. Hux waited a beat, not wanting to appear eager (he could hardly believe this was happening; of course he was eager), before taking a step closer. "Ah," Ren said, "I do."

He started by licking the inward side of Hux's cock, the top side. At first it was tentative, then a wide swipe from glans to base that left Hux sucking in air and shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Then Ren mouthed at the tight copper curls of pubic hair. Hux dropped the underwear. He obviously didn't need them. But he did want his hands free. He put them on Ren's shoulders, leaning forward a little. He'd never had this, either. He breathed out a little whimper before shutting himself up.

Kylo Ren. He'd caught Hux's eye the first moment he'd seen him – black cowl, robes, helmet – all unique. Distinctive. Exotic from Hux's point of view. No amount of clothing could hide the man's build, his strength, or his muscular grace. He was intimidating. He carried an aura of menace and while Hux pretended to ignore it, he definitely felt it. He saw how others cringed away from it and he envied that. He envied a lot about Kylo Ren. Which was why looking down and seeing the man carefully sucking on the top third of Hux's dick was such a rush.

He was fully hard. Erect. Ren was putting his over-sized mouth to work, pulling Hux's length within him. His tongue worked along the underside. He sucked harder now, sure of himself. Ren's hands cupped Hux's ass cheeks, gripping him firmly, providing counterbalance as his head bobbed.

Still leaning on Ren's shoulder with one hand, Hux touched at Ren's hair with the other. It was silky, softer than it looked. He made a fist in it – some illusion or reality of control. He didn't know which, nor cared to establish it with certainty at the moment. He had no idea who was in charge here. That might have terrified him under other circumstances, but for now he only cared about the orgasm that was rushing to him. The prospect of spilling his seed into Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's greedy throat made his head spin.

All sorts of forbidden, lewd images flashed across his mind. If Ren would do this for him, what else? He'd let Hux pulse inside of him, fill him up, maybe even fuck him? Follow his orders? Suggestions, at least. Hux bit his lip to stifle the moan at how much power this gave him.

He moved his hips in short jerks as his peak approached. His hands gripped tighter – the one into Ren's brawny shoulder and the other cradling the back of his head. Hux's breaths became rough. His voice finally betrayed him with involuntary noises he couldn't muffle. He moaned in passion with every breath. He thrust deep, as far as Ren could take him, feeling him gag once around the head of his cock and then freeze. Hux spurted into him, inside him, inside someone else, inside the supreme leader of the First Order …!

He'd barely finished when Ren gently pushed him back, swallowed, and took a deep breath.

Only then did Hux wonder if he was going to be killed for this. Giddily, he considered that at least he'd die happy. Watching his softening, spit-slick cock slide out from between Ren's plush lips – now that was something worth dying for. Or so he thought at the moment, irrational though it was. Hux began to chuckle, then laugh. Saliva and some lingering drop of come leaked from the tip of his dick.

Ren licked his lips, then wiped them on the back of his hand. "Have no fear."

Hux snorted. "You know I don't." He ruffled Ren's hair and then slapped him on the cheek. Hux sauntered off to the refresher. Something hit him in the back of the head as he reached the doorway. He flinched and spun, but it was just his underwear. With a flick of his hand, Ren sent them into Hux's face. Hux snatched them out of the air, seeing the smirk on Ren's face. Hux smiled.

Yes, things were going to be fine.