There is no way this could have happened in any normal situation. He knows it, and he knows she knows. If it is a game changer, he isn't sure. It cannot happen again that much is certain.
And actually it won't, he tells himself as he enters the cell, pushing the door open and owning the place. It used to be a show, now it is simply what comes naturally. He does own the place, and everything - everyone - inside. She immediately turns to face him, the way she moves too quick and controled for comfort.
"You are here?", she asks. He frowns. Isn't that obvious? Or is she a victim of those so called force visions already?
"As you see", he replies coldly. He doesn't want to think about those.
"But...". She stops there. Whatever she witnessed, she won't share. Maybe it is better for the both of them. Or perhaps she is just puzzled at him visiting her in her cell instead of having her brought to interrogation. This explanation is rational - it sounds good.
He looks around. There is nowhere normal to sit. He didn't think of that when he decided a change in scenery would be welcome to get her to talk. Or to forget about the previous incident(s)/accident(s). He chooses to sit on the makeshift bed, cringing for an instant as he does. It is quite uncomfortable, potentially unsanitary, though he has known not much better at the Academy. Rey stares at him in wonder. He doesn't like how it has to look, the General of the First Order in her personal space, sitting on her bed. Though at least it means she has come to utterly accept that this cell is her new home, this almost tender gaze disturbs him.
She approaches slowly as if she still didn't believe he was really there. He thinks she is going to sit on the bed or even, crazily, on his lap. But no, she kneels in front of him and he cannot hide his shock. She giggles at it, not expecting the General to be that sensitive.
"You kissed me", she says, as if justifying that this is nothing.
He forces himself not to avoid her eyes and he hates that his cheeks burn. He still has found no way to avoid this. He keeps his face and his mind guarded but this he can do nothing about.
"I did no such thing. I just arrived barely one minute ago".
She doesn't reply, because of course he knows what she is talking about.
"I saw you", she says, searching for something in his eyes. She is too serious for it to mean something very good. He really, really doesn't want to know. Whatever it is, it is madness. There is no reason to concern himself with it. She brings her small hands to his knees but there is nothing seductive about the gesture. "But this is not happening". She is shivering now and if he didn't know better he would say that he feels a warm wave unleashed through the small room. He recoils on an instinct, his back soon reaching the cold wall. The bed is narrower than he thought. Prisoners have better not be bulky. Prison food would take care of that.
"I said it's not happening. Don't be afraid", she says, kneading at his knees. He should put an end to it.
"I am afraid of nothing". The Force may be the closest thing, though he likes to think it's just common sense instinct to stay the hell away. From Ren, from the Supreme Leader impossible as it is, and from her.
"Right...", she smirks, looking and sounding years older in the twinkling of an eye. He realizes she has grown much too close, though he doesn't know when it happened. She is kneeling between legs that he doesn't remember parting. Hux tells himself the Force has nothing to do with it. No, if she was that strong already she would order him to open the door and let her out, not…
She looks up to him, to his mouth actually, and it undoes him a little.
"Get up", he scolds, trying to sound unaffacted. Annoyed. Bored.
When she refuses to obey, he grabs her slim wrists. His gloved hand encompasses both of them.
"Get away from me, prisoner". Meaner now. But she just smiles and he knows what she is going to say even without being a mind-reader.
"But you kissed me".
He tries to get her up but she seems to weigh a ton and he releases her because the contact makes it worse. Something has happened overnight, some disturbing change in her. He presses his back into the wall as if he could disappear. She doesn't appear threatening though when her right hand finds his cheek and she stretches toward him.
"I saw you and you were dead", she whispers, almost against his lips. He resists an urge to push her off of him, or to kiss her. Shut up.
"So much blood, so much red blood". Her lips are red too. His cheeks must be now. She speaks of war but it sounds erotic in the moment.
"I killed him", she adds. He understands quickly she doesn't mean him, the Hux in her vision. Still, he needs confirmation. Even though treating insanity seriously is not the right thing to do. Neither is snaking an arm around her waist and dragging her hard against him when she replies that she killed the man who threatened him.
He tries to calm down, tells himself certainly this tiny girl couldn't save him if he couldn't handle a threat himself. And yet… her eyes tell him otherwise and so does his instinct, jarring as it is. Because he does trust his instinct as much as his rationality, or almost.
He blames his inappropriate gesture on an attempt not to alienate her. Still he wishes she wasn't breathing so fast, her bosom squashed against his torso.
"You don't believe me… But you will…". She is out of breath but she doesn't let go of his cheek and she tries to get closer even, moulding against him. He can feel her flat stomach against his and they join lower too. He reacts in horror to that contact.
"No, don't", he asserts as best as he can. If he lacks motivation it is almost impossible to hear. She hears it. Or she doesn't care. He ponders that those words have probably never been pronounced by an officer in that cell. If someone did, it had to be a prisoner. Though he disapproves, finding it a waste of time and debasing, he knows some use that kind of interrogation techniques. Maybe they all need a reminder they are not touch prisoners like this. Including himself. Because whatever seems to happen just now, the sheer discrepancy in power, freedom, age, everything, makes it closer to rape than he can tolerate. He might have turned a blind eye on occasion, when literally nothing else was having an effect - but he doesn't stoop that low. Regular torture should be enough. This is dirty, unneeded, a dishonor, a degrading abuse of...
"Looking for excuses, my General?", she asks and all but giggles; he hates her for prodding into his thoughts. For having the upper hand somehow against one of the two or three - that remains up for discussion and debate - most powerful men in the galaxy. She cannot want what she is implying she wants. She is playing with him, riling him up, or immaturely oblivious.
"This is no game. Remove yourself". His tone is severe, probably not enough.
"You're not letting me", she offers too sweetly. He remembers his arm around her waist. Kriff. She laughs. She had to be in his mind again, and she is laughing at him, he tells himself because anger would be a better response than arousal. Everything else would be.
Anger is there now, but unfortunately arousal remains. The combination is heady, deadly. He regrets doing it as soon as he starts, but he sends her flying onto the bed, lending on her back. She is still laughing. He climbs on top of her on instinct and she finally stops. Their eyes meet and they don't move.
"Last opportunity to stop this. Last way out, Rey. Take it". He sounds overwhelmed. "Tell me to stop this. Call for help. You don't know what you are asking for". Not that his men would intervene. But the tiny chance of one of them coming in would certainly stop him. "Tell me to stop…". He is all but begging. She grabs at his jacket and she neither pushes him off nor brings him closer. He realizes she is making sure it is real. Bracing herself for the next step. She is accepting, welcoming, what he still thinks he cannot do to her. Why and how does she not see it as a disgrace?
"It is meant to happen. It is bigger than us…". Her voice is so so… juvenile. And she said us… Since when is there an "us" for the orphaned scavenger who grew up in the desert and the First Order leader from a venerable lineage hailing from a rainy planet? She closes her eyes. Her hand on his neck, she brings him closer not for a kiss as he thinks he fears but so their foreheads meet. The visions bother him just as much as he thought. They evocate all kinds of uncomfortable concepts. Feelings. He cannot die. Not without an heir, certainly. Goodness that band on her finger, the way she tears through the traitor… She exhudes power and Hux is never the type to say no to that. It is over as suddenly as it started.
They are looking at each other again and the general Hux knows he doesn't have much motivation left to keep away. She gently bucks up against him and he isn't surprised he reacts to it. It doesn't prevent him from hating himself. He tries to remember all the reasons it wouldn't be so wrong. She is asking for it, literally. She won't stop before he gives in. Her life belongs to him. He kissed her already. No one is going to know it if he leaves that wretched cell with the scavenger's virtue… He thinks of her taunting gaze, of that mindview of himself dead on the floor, covered in blood. If it is meant to be, he is going to take everything he can before, and enjoy it.
The way Rey is staring up at him makes her more predator than prey and it unsettles him. It frightens him, it is that or running away so he tells himself she is ripe for the taking. She seems to be nodding at the thought and they both go for it, lips meeting in a sob of relief. He is so hard every move hurts but he can't help rubbing against her anyway.
"So this is what you wanted?", he breaks the kiss to ask, half scolding half hoping. Was it her wanting it? That Force demanding? Does it matter? "I do not think I can stop now", a warning and a promise. She sneaks her hand between them and she touches him, seeking more. She'd better not change her mind because there is no way he is even considering stopping now. His green eyes appear unhinged and troubled, he doesn't notice the strand of red hair escaping the strict order of the gel even when literally in front of his eyes. It takes some time for her to fiddle with the buttons. He doesn't help her but he kisses her again so he doesn't make any embarrassing noise when her hand finds his skin, obliterating most thoughts. It is meant to be, he manages to think at last, so why resist? She will be so pretty in First Order jewelry.