A/N: ... I didn't mean for this to happen, but it did. I'm trying not to make a habit of it. This follows all your little tricks.
Warnings for: cisgirl Hux, Kylo/Hux, "hate" sex, smoking.
Title comes from "Not As Cool As Me" by Mainland.
Hux has lost count of how many times she's come. Kylo was never keeping track to begin with, but whatever number they're at isn't high enough.
"Ren," Hux snarls, the word muffled against one of her pillows. Her voice is wrecked. Her hair, too. Everything about Hux is in ruins, and Kylo thrives on it.
He'd come to her quarters under a pretense, of course. A necessary evil when she insists on being so difficult. "Where's your bucket, Ren?" she asked, staring up at his hooded face with a mixture of annoyance and suspicion. Nevertheless, she allowed him into her quarters. She'd betrayed herself, ultimately, by standing much too close to him. "Make it quick. I'm busy."
"You're not," Kylo replied. He'd timed this ambush well enough to ensure that. "You're off duty."
"Be that as it may – I don't have time for any magic tricks, Lord Ren. If you have a message from the Supreme Leader, do go ahead and spit it out."
"There was no message," he'd spat out moments later, against her neck, against the wall, with his hand down the front of her uniform trousers. "And you knew it."
"You aren't nearly as – ah – mysterious as you think you are," Hux had said, breathless.
No, Kylo thought then, digging his teeth into her throat, but I am not as transparent as you, either.
He's admittedly much gentler with her now, rubbing her back with his free hand in a way meant both to soothe and to coax. He can't see her face like this – she's propped up on her elbows and knees, back arched and legs spread for his fingers and mouth – but he wishes he could. He's had her in a variety of positions so far, all in an effort to earn something he'd only fumbled his way into before – that rush of fluid, the way Hux had gasped in astonishment, how lovely she'd been afterwards, equal parts satisfied and embarrassed. She's cooperating for the moment, and it's enthralling.
"Come on," Kylo says, crooking his fingers. "You know what I want."
"I can't," Hux pants, "it doesn't just happen on cue, you ass –,"
"Quiet," Kylo intones, and shortly after he feels Hux tense up, hears a hastily muffled curse as she shudders through the almost painfully sharp pleasure. When she starts squirming, Kylo takes pity on her, slipping his fingers free.
Hux exudes exhaustion and over-stimulation, but Kylo can sense the conflict raging in her – a longing for relief competing with Hux's ingrained need to succeed at any task presented to her, even one as base as this. In the end, Hux seems unable to reach a decision fast enough to suit herself. "Ren," she says again, half-delirious but insistent, demanding that he finish this.
"Yes," Kylo agrees senselessly, freeing himself of his pants and tugging Hux backwards by the hips, til she's essentially sitting on his thighs. She rests her back against his chest and lets him fuck her like that, her head lolling against his shoulder. It's Kylo's turn to embarrass himself now, gasping and moaning and squeezing her too roughly, but Hux allows it. More than allows it – she tilts her head, straining to put her mouth on his neck, his racing pulse, unable to do more than clumsily kiss him there.
"Touch yourself," Kylo says, and the order is really more of a plea at this point.
To his immense surprise, Hux does, even though she's sensitive to the point of discomfort by now. She comes, the sensation short-lived but powerful, with an incoherent gasp – Kylo hears it anyway, the wordless burst of Kylo, and then it's all over.
It takes a few moments for Kylo to realize how tightly he's clutching Hux – she's still astride his lap, her back flush against his chest with his hands gripping her hips, yet she hasn't complained. When he probes Hux's thoughts, he finds her focusing solely on controlling her breathing. Deciding not to press his luck, Kylo releases her, then nudges her forward until she slides off his lap willingly, dropping onto her stomach while she composes herself. Despite himself, Kylo cannot help but follow her, flopping onto his back on the other side of her narrow bed. Hux grunts at him in annoyance, jostled by his motions, but stays where she is.
After several moments of lying still, Hux musters enough energy to prop herself up on one elbow and reach for her bedside table. Kylo watches with mild interest as she opens the drawer, takes out a nondescript pack of cigarettes, and lights one.
"I saw this in a holofilm once," Kylo says mildly. In retrospect, it sounds more than a bit naive, even to his own ears.
Hux looks over her bony shoulder at him and exhales disdainfully. "You know," she muses dryly, "if you weren't built like a brick shithouse, I'd be a bit concerned about engaging in a sexual relationship with you."
She's calling him a child, her favorite insult; it falls a bit flat when Kylo can see the evidence of their previous activities coating her thighs. Kylo raises his eyebrows at her silently, and Hux glares back, fully aware of her current state and too proud to go shower while he's still here. "Are you planning on lounging about here all day, Lord Ren? Because I have work to attend to," Hux says, punctuating this with a drag from her cigarette before rolling into a less vulnerable position, on her side and facing him.
"We both know you can't even stand right now," Kylo says, stretching slowly to ease the stiffness already settling into his own legs. He doesn't miss the way Hux studies the movement, and he smirks under her scrutiny. He will leave soon. Just not yet.
Hux sighs, seemingly resigned to her fate, and then inexplicably offers him her cigarette. When Kylo doesn't take it immediately, she withdraws her hand and comments, "So your lot can fuck, apparently, but a smoke is out of bounds. Curious."
Kylo frowns, then snatches the cig from her hand. "You don't know what you're talking about, General," he reminds her darkly, although he actually has very little interest in smoking anything. It doesn't smell all that bad, and it suits Hux – especially this Hux, half-naked and satiated. Inhaling the smoke directly is more unpleasant; Kylo doesn't cough, but only because his pride overpowers his desire for oxygen.
He must make a face, because Hux gives him a sickly sweet look, radiating smugness. Kylo realizes he's been baited – and worse, that he's fallen for it – and moves instinctively, crawling over Hux and forcing her onto her back. She allows this without complaint, although she does point out, "You're going to set the sheets on fire, you animal."
Through a combination of the Force and sheer luck, Kylo manages to get the cigarette into the small ashtray on Hux's side table, although he cares very little what happens to Hux's sheets. She's still quite pleased with herself, and Kylo kisses her forcefully, unable to resist the urge when she nettles him like this.
"General," he says after, his mouth still close to hers, "did you think I was finished with you already?"
Hux grins and, as always, accepts the challenge. "Do your worst."