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Hux groaned.

He had a horrible, pounding headache, and his alarm was not helping, bleeping angrily.

He opened his eyes.

He was lying in his bed, in his room on the Finalizer, but he had this sinking feeling that it wasn't where he had been last.

He sat up slowly.

His boots were neatly tucked against his bed; he could see his jacket folded over his desk chair through the open door. Other than that, he was still wearing yesterday's uniform, his tags on the nightstand. He shut his alarm off, and groaned.

This headache was awful.

He had stood before he realized he had his hand clenched into a fist, and was holding something. He opened his hand, and found several strands of loose, dark hair.

Kylo.

Hux sat back down, holding his head tightly, but it was as if someone had taken a hole punch to his receipt of last night; he clearly remembered standing in Kylo's flat, though he couldn't remember how he gotten there. There had been bloody red ink on the countertop, and Kylo had been sitting down, inviting him to join, but though it was almost constantly swimming through his head, Hux could not actually remember what Kylo's face had looked like last night.

He stood again, unsure of what he was meant to do with what little information he had left.

A cold jump through the fresher and a hot cup of caf later, and though he looked fine, Hux was still no better off. He smoothed his hair into place as he inspected his face closely in the mirror.

There seemed to be no difference, other than how continually his frown lines deepened. Yet his brow seemed softened. He practiced a stern face, and then a surprised one. The brief lines he had created by frowning disappeared almost immediately.

As he went back into his office, lifting his jacket, he discovered that Phasma had called no less than twenty-four times last night. He sat down with a quiet sigh and a glance at the clock.

"Hux? Kriffing hell, what happened?! You never called me, never let me know if you had gotten in, or if you had come ho-are you still there? Did you sleep with him?!"

"Phasma, slow down, I-no, first of all, I'm back at home-how else would I be calling you?-anyway, I'm fine, I suppose, suppose I'm just a little confused still...I'm having a hard time recalling what happened last night. I-I think something's wrong with me."

"'Wrong with you'? I'll be honest, you sound a little hungover, but not that much. Did you drink? Does Kylo drink?"

"N-no, I didn't drink, I don't know if he drinks, I-I think I interrupted him while he was working...he spilled ink all over...but it looked like he had just woken up..?"

Hux rubbed his temple roughly. "Like I said...something feels wrong. Off."

There was silence on the other end. "I mean, like, I remember things, but not others…but it still feels like they happened..? I know, I know it doesn't make any-"

"-No." Phasma interrupted suddenly, softly. "I...I know exactly what that feels like, actually…"

Phasma sighed from the other end.

"I told you I thought Rey was keeping secrets… because I get that same feeling. Like I found her doing something, but whenever I try to think back on it...it's like I can't remember what I caught her doing, or if I caught her doing anything, and then there are...moments. Lapses in my memory that I know are real, they're so...visceral, but…"

"...But you're not sure they're actually there?" Hux finished.

"Yeah."

He didn't respond; he didn't know what he was supposed to say.

They sat in silence for a long while, before he spoke.

"What do...what do you do? When you get those feelings?"

"There's nothing I can do, really." Phasma responded slowly. "Except accuse my wife of lying to me because I don't feel good, or...something like that. I really couldn't accuse her of anything, because all I had were half-formed memories I wasn't sure were even real."

Hux pressed his hand to his mouth as he stared at the wall, thinking.

"What am I supposed to do?" He finally asked.

Phasma laughed.

"Well, what can you do?" She asked. "If you want to confront him, is it really worth the possibility of losing not just your relationship with him, but also our relationship to the Republic?"

Hux knew the answer, and Phasma knew it, too.

So he didn't respond.

Kylo gave absolutely no impression of anything when Hux walked into the conference room, late, eyes slightly red and puffy.

He lifted his head politely, a curl of hair falling over his shoulder, face so heavily coated with makeup that not even his beauty marks could be seen.

His robe was collared high, all the way up to his chin, and the sleeves bled all the way to his middle fingertips, hem spread all around his seat on the floor. It was one Hux had purchased for him.

Save for his hair, loose and free and wild, he was completely covered.

"My apologies for my lateness, your highness." Hux began, before he had even bothered to sit. "I fear that I had a…rather unusual morning."

Kylo's lip twitched, Hux saw it.

"It's not as if we could have started without you, Emperor. Now, we are safe to commence."

Kylo only lifted his right hand as he spoke, where he usually would have lifted both.

Hux wanted to flinch as he sat down, thinking, thinking so hard, but he just couldn't figure out why Kylo was suddenly short of breath as he crossed his legs primly under the table.

As the moderator stood, reciting the pages set out before her, Kylo was suddenly caught by a small coughing fit.

He did his best to recover silently, lifting a glass of water softly to his crimson lips.

Hux's mind was suddenly filled with an image he had been building for several weeks, fully realized by the sight of Kylo now; Kylo, the robe Hux had bought for him torn carelessly from his shoulders, kneeling between Hux's legs, makeup smeared and tracking and hair mussed and loose, hands and mouth wrapped around something much more important than that glass of water.

Hux's back shocked straight and he pushed his chair as close to the table as possible to hide his sudden erection, and at the end of the table, Kylo choked on his water.

He made a weak gagging sound and immediately covered the lower half of his face with a hand, coughing and trying desperately to sound like he wasn't. Flushing deeply, Kylo locked eyes with Hux for only a second, before looking deliberately away. He gave a final choked cough and squinted his eyes closed, pulling his shoulders back and trying to resume the politically-respectful air of a monarch.

Hux looked on in surprise, and slight guilt, legs crossed tightly at his ankles. Still, though, the fantasy was playing in his head, made stronger every moment by the sight of the Queen's flustered skin and shaking breaths, and he was beginning to imagine weaving his hands through that mane of dark hair, pulling his head back to look him in those beautiful brown eyes, when he had a thought that hardly felt like his own:

How inappropriate.

"My goodness, Kylo, are you alright?" Hux managed, chest swelling at the thought of the man choking on something else entirely.

"You would like to know, I'm sure." Kylo responded darkly, brushing his hair back as if offended.

Hux had a short flash of guilt, and he reluctantly forced his daydream to the back of his mind. Leia looked to her son, and then Hux, darkening visibly. Kylo placed his hand on her arm, and she looked away tersely. Hux watched the encounter in dumbfounded bewilderment.

He didn't remember much about his own mother, but he felt confident that no parent just had a connection so close to their child.

Had he told her about what had transpired the night before?

…What had transpired the night before?

The moderator had paused, but since resumed speaking, and Kylo had recovered enough to languidly respond, respectfully bored, politically disinterested.

Hux watched Kylo's mouth as he spoke, watched as his chest rose and fell with short, shallow breaths, and made a decision.

He was going to sneak back into Kylo's flat tonight.

He had another thought, a calculated, clever one that hardly felt like him.

Mm, too soon. Wait until tomorrow night.

He glanced around the table, watching Kylo's eyes flit away.

Yes, yes, it would be a poor idea to go back so soon, especially as Kylo hadn't seemed to take the initial sight of him too well...maybe he should have brought a gift, maybe he would bring a gift, though no plants, certainly, and no more clothes, Kylo seemed to have enough of those already…

"Emperor Hux?" The moderator tried, meekly, and Hux looked up from where he'd been spacing out at the wood grain on the table.

"Er...repeat the statement, please."

The moderator glanced furtively back towards Kylo, and Hux suddenly realized that Kylo had been watching him.

"You were asked if your pilot training program has been modified to accommodate the new travel regulations, and if your graduated pilots had been notified of the changes.

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Hux cleared his throat. "Uh, yes, to the latter, no to the former. I would have to refer to our timetables, but I believe the new regulations will be implemented next quarter."

The advisor to Hux's left passed him several pages of the new training program, and he recited it dully.

As he spoke, he glanced towards Kylo again.

He was watching Hux intently, as if devastatingly interested in hearing this document, but instead of his usual positions with his hands near his face, his arms were crossed tightly across his chest.

Hux remembered blood. No, ink, Kylo had spilled...red ink...from a bowl...in his kitchen. It had been ink, Kylo had said so, Hux had watched it drip from...from Kylo's shoulder..?

Kylo cleared his throat shortly, and it must have been the smooth sound of Kylo's voice that made him feel so warm, made his vision go just a little fuzzy. It was like soft hands, pressing his temples gently.

He couldn't remember what he had been thinking about.

Well, if he couldn't remember, it must not have been too important.

He crossed his legs at the ankle, and handed the papers in his hands off.