[Hux]
They elected to sleep within the shuttle – all twenty-one of them – with two persons on guard duty in the forward compartment (one stormtrooper and one Resistance member, on two-hour shifts), and two persons getting the bunks in the rear compartment. The first sergeant automatically reserved the rear compartment for Hux. While he appreciated the thought, he countermanded it because it seemed tactically unwise to close himself off from the rest of his people. But he did avail himself of one of the two sleeping mats.
With that, he retired to the forward corner out of the way. He took off his boots and gloves, then laid his weapon belt between himself and the wall. He loosened a few clasps but otherwise lay down dressed. He lay on his side, facing the room, and wadded himself into the corner. He was not looking forward to sleeping in a room full of people – assuming he was able to sleep at all.
The others sorted themselves out. The Force users ended up in the bunks, which was what Hux had expected. He had not expected the first sergeant to have the foresight to steer them that way, separating them from their allies and reducing the chance the Resistance would try to kill them in their sleep. That the Resistance took to the separation easily indicated they had yet to formulate a plan to get rid of them. He worried that telling Poe about the food shortage would accelerate that. But for now, Poe hadn't had time to pass the information along.
The stormtroopers took off their armor and laid themselves out in a neat line across one side of the ship, with a respectful space between them and their general. That left the Resistance to fill the other side and figure out how to accommodate the Wookiee's absurd height, which translated into length on the floor, and the other big alien's sprawling sleep configuration. They managed it by lying in two blocks of differing directions, thus confirming the First Order wisdom of not allowing anomalously sized persons in their ranks.
Poe moved near his feet. "This space open?" He gestured at the spot left bare between himself and the troopers.
Hux stared at him, then over at CL-0745, who looked rattled by the suggestion a Resistance member might bed down on their side. Hux said, "Yes." The first sergeant rolled on her side, facing away. Probably mortified. Hux felt his skin heat. This was not going to remain secret for long. Whatever 'this' even was.
Poe laid down on his back. Once everyone was settled in, the lights were dimmed to five percent and the hatch to the cockpit was closed. There was another round of grousing and murmuring as people shifted and resettled themselves. The Resistance folk complained of the hard floors. The troopers did not. No one was comfortable, but it was dry, safe, and warm – all advantages over trying to camp outside.
Hux was just starting to relax when he heard three distinct, purposeful swipes across the edge of the floor pad he was lying on. He reached out slowly, unsurprised to find Poe's hand in the dark, palm-down. But … he was taken by the contact. It was bare skin. Poe didn't jerk away. He didn't move at all for a while. Neither did Hux, letting his fingertips rest against the back of Poe's hand, just feeling him.
He tried and failed to remember the last time, if ever, he'd touched someone like this, skin to skin and lingeringly. It had definitely happened briefly and unintentionally before. He'd touched people during combatives, but that wasn't … like this. Years, at least. Ever?
He could see the outline of Poe's body. He was still on his back. Poe rotated his hand slowly so that Hux's fingers were on his palm. A moment later, Hux slid his hand forward, clasping Poe's in a handshake configuration. He heard Poe breathe out heavily – not quite a sigh – and held his hand with a light grip.
Hux rubbed the back of Poe's hand with his thumb. He reached over with his other hand and smoothed it over the man's shirt, up to his forearm, finding his elbow. He returned to his wrist and made quick work of the cuff fastenings, even in the dark. He heard Poe let out a puff of air and felt him squeeze his hand again. Hux passed his hand up the bared flesh of the man's arm. It was hairy on the outside of his arm, smooth on the other side where he could reach, and very strange to touch anyone like this. Very strange.
Hux's breathing was starting to change. He was certain, with the confidence that came of wanting a thing too much, that Poe would allow anything he wanted, whatever he thought he might be able to get away with … on the floor of a stranded shuttle, surrounded by Resistance members and possibly judgmental troopers. Wanting or not, Hux wasn't that stupid.
He smoothed Poe's shirt sleeve back down his arm and gradually withdrew his hand. He folded his arms to himself and touched over the singing nerves of his hands. They were hot. They felt too much. He touched them to his lower face and rubbed them against his lips. They smelled like another human being and it had definitely been so long since he'd had someone's scent on him that he noticed. He thought he saw Poe's eyes glint in the low light, watching him, so he folded his hands into his armpits and shut his eyes so he wouldn't see anything.