Even as Kylo knew he had no choice but to kill him, he was perhaps even more certain that he couldn't do it.
He wasn't sure how long he had been standing there, leaning against the door frame of the General's office, doing all in his power to keep his breathing even and his heart from pounding straight through his chest. With his cloak drawn in tightly around him and his mask in place to hide his expression, he watched in silence, trying to ignore the way that his hands shook at his sides and the way that he felt so painfully aware of the distance left between them.
The redhead was at his desk, a disaster of papers spread out before him, but his shoulders were slumped face was buried in his hands. Kylo knew better than to try and probe into his mind, knew better than to give himself away in such a manner, but he didn't need to use the Force to sense the melancholic defeat that rolled off of him. It seeped from his very being and thickened the air around them with its suffocating aura. He'd been much the same since the destruction of Starkiller, avoiding anyone and everyone, locking himself away and wallowing in the misery of his losses.
But it seemed Kylo didn't need to move an inch to give himself away, it seemed, for a moment later, Hux lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes glinting through the darkness as they met Kylo's own- or would have, if not for the mask that kept him perfectly concealed. "How long are you planning on standing there?" He asked, his tone clearly exasperated, but streaked with a twinge of...well, Kylo couldn't be sure what it was, exactly, but it was something.
For what felt like an eternity, the Knight only stood there, trying and failing to think up some reply. But all he could think about was the beating of his pulse as it tore through his veins, the ringing in his ears from the deafening silence and the overwhelming feeling of wrongness- this was wrong, all of this was wrong. Suddenly a thousand memories of all the nights they had spent tangled up in each other's arms, of biting and kissing and flesh against flesh were flashing across his mind, and he was doing all in his power to block them out, because those days were over, they were gone, and he couldn't have them back even if he wanted to.
Eventually, he gave up altogether, and in the span of nothingness Hux allowed the slightest of scowls to take over his features. "If you've come to say something, do it quickly," he said; the words came out through gritted teeth, but they lacked real anger. "I've got work to do."
Kylo swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away. There was an undeniable ache in the confines of his chest, and it twisted in between his ribs, and it moved into his stomach and tied it in knots. Hux had reverted his attention back to the mess that had overtaken his desk, shuffling half-heartedly through reports and missives and blueprints, paying no mind to the younger of the two- he had no time for him, no time for them, a fact that he had made abundantly clear in the days following their defeat.
It hurt far worse than Kylo cared to admit, a stabbing pain that resonated in every fiber of his being, this betrayal, this abandonment. And he thought that maybe if he could just focus on that, cling to it, allow those feelings to consume him, they he might be able to use them long enough for the task he'd been given, and he actually felt himself taking a few steps forward- slow and uncertain, but progress nonetheless- coming to stand alongside the desk.
But the instant Hux looked up at him again, he was frozen in place- he couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, he couldn't- and ever so slightly, the General cocked his head to the side, and he asked in the calmest voice possible, "Have you come to kill me, Kylo Ren?"
The Knight could see the realization dawning over the redhead's features, the full understanding of what was happening between them. For a long moment they stayed like that, motionless before each other. It ended only when Kylo reached up slowly, slowly, and released his helm, setting it down on with disregard onto the surface of the desk, their stare never daring to break apart. Kylo didn't bother trying to conceal his own emotions; he could feel them spilling out of him, and even if he had bothered to try, Hux had always been able to read him like an open book anyway.
Rising to his feet, Hux allowed himself to take in the familiar features of the younger man, closing the distance between them until there were but mere inches, until he could feel Kylo's hot and uneven breaths against his face, and he could feel the heat rolling off of him. He lifted a hand, steady, untrembling, to press against Kylo's cheek, and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips.
All at once, the room was illuminated with a crimson glow, the kind that bounced off the walls and contorted the shadows, and a low humming that rang in his ears. He took a step back, away from Kylo. When he withdrew, it was with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was wistful and bleak, but it was enough. Because he knew, he knew, they both knew without a trace of doubt, that whatever had existed between them, it had been real. They'd damn near torn each other to pieces, but it had been real. Every second that Kylo hesitated was only further confirmation that he had cared- perhaps it had not been love, but it had been something, and it had been enough.
When it was over, and his body was sprawled out at his feet, Kylo felt this great sense of emptiness within him. A part of him wanted nothing more than to lay down beside him, clutch him to his chest and cry for Hux and for himself and for all that could have been. Another part wanted to drive the lightsaber through his own chest and end this once and for all.
Somehow, he managed to overcome them both, sparing one last glance at Hux before forcing himself to turn away, never stopping and never looking back.