04. mental link

[exhuxperation]

COMMAND over oneself and others	AMBITION nothing will stand in my way
ORDER chaos will not be tolerated	MANY over the individual

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[exhuxperation]

[ The pressure on his throat is unexpected. It sets his pulse racing in a flutter of fear—the inherent fight or flight instinct taking over. Hux has been on the opposite side of Ren's finicky displeasure before, but not quite like this. Ren's palm presses in more, thumb digging into the underside of his jawline and tilting his head back.

At this angle, his breathing is restricted, making the anxious race of his heart combine with the floaty light headedness that comes with a blocked airway. His vision starts to haze at the edges, breath coming in shallow before Ren lets him go. The first inhale of air has him shivering, a thrill running down his spine and sparking in his veins. Hux wants to bask in the strange feeling but Ren has given his permission and he doesn't want to waste that.

His fingers tug Ren's underwear down as much as possible, exposing him more thoroughly. He loosely grips his cock, leaning forward to lick the underside. Ren doesn't seem to be fully hard yet; he plans to change that as he slides the head in his mouth, tongue pressed insistently to it. Slowly, he takes more of him, keeping a hand near the base to steady himself. ]

NSFW WARNING BIG OLD NSFW WARNING, AVERT THINE EYES PAGEVIEW CHILDREN

[narcissithstic]

[Posturing provides him a better buffer against how exposed he feels the instant Hux bares him to cold, circulating air— or the feverish heat of his tongue that follows, prompting a short flicker of apprehension that grips him to his core. Ren swallows it, willfully, determined to maintain that veneer of passive control as his fingers slip down to find purchase in the fabric of the couch, just along the back of the armrest and its adjacent cushion.

As he would on the battlefield, he steels himself against lesser urges; commits himself wholly to breathing, to watching and permitting himself the illusion of asserting dominance over his former rival now pinned between his legs on his knees, rather than accepting either reality or the intimacy that comes with it.

His teeth set, lip curled, jaw tight. He breathes, and this time, his breath hitches only for a moment.]

[exhuxperation]

[ Despite the control Ren exerts over his outer expression, Hux can feel his mental state brushing against his own. Where they both normally have given themselves to control, to holding onto the shreds of it as much as possible, this time it's different. Ren keeps his grip on it as strong as possible, fingers curling into the fabric of the couch cushion to ground himself.

And Hux, he lets go.

It's like cutting a wire, emotions and feeling snapping out from the tension that held them in. He's careful to keep it contained enough where it doesn't leak beyond himself and Ren, but it's there. The rush is overwhelming, a mix of the past shames, things withheld and the expectations that kept them there. Boundaries that no longer existed here– he has more control over himself than he ever has.

So where Ren is tension, Hux opposes him (as always, always), humming soft appreciation with Ren still in his mouth. He takes hold of Ren's other hand, guiding it to set at the back of his neck even as he pulls away to breathe. With a soft touch, he traces his fingers from Ren's knee to his upper thigh, palm settling there warmly before he leans back in to continue. ]

[narcissithstic]

[Hux pulls his hand forward to set it against the back of his neck, and for a moment, breathing raw and ragged, he does. Quiet, so tense it feels as though his muscles might snap for how much effort it takes to not slip beneath the surface of Hux's efforts. Ren swallows thickly, his tongue feels dry— his fingers slipping up along the length of Hux's spine to the base of his skull. It feels...

Easy. Too easy. Dangerous and permeating and a dark promise of everything the Jedi feared about themselves.

And for that, his grip goes tight in Hux's hair. A split-second turn from gentle to cruel, demanding. Spurring the general onward where he might otherwise pause and observe what madness he induces.]

[exhuxperation]

[ The weight of Ren's palm feels nice on his neck. While the extra heat should be unwelcome, he embraces it instead, eyes flicking up to take note of Ren's hitched breathing. He isn't giving off as many outward signs, something he wants to coax from him somehow, someway. And of course, once he puts his mind to something, he intends to achieve it. Maybe not in the current moment, but in the future should this happen again (he hopes it does).

Of course, the gentle touch doesn't last long before the grip tightens, the hair at the back of his head being yanked mercilessly. He breathes out a moan around Ren, feeling a fresh wash of arousal spread through his limbs. Slowly yet eagerly, he eases as much of Ren's cock into his mouth as he can before nearly pulling off. It's a repeated action as he sets an odd rhythm, the fingers circling the base dropping lower to brush the backs of them against the sensitive skin there. ]

[narcissithstic]

[narcissithstic]

[It's the moan— throaty and humming— that coaxes a more tangible reaction from Ren: has him seizing up with a clipped noise that's entirely involuntary. Devoid of any semblance of control. His jaw shifts beneath it, working to shove hissing breaths between cinched teeth. His vision feels strained when he blinks, spine arching upwards towards the ceiling, dizzy in a way he's never quite known before— not acutely, anyway.

Because it's different than the adrenaline rush that comes from choking the life from his marks, and different still than the pressure of his own fingers over vulnerable contours, alone and desperate, seeking more than the incessant, cyclical rhythm of his every fear and doubt. Ren's knuckles twist where they grip Hux's hair - painfully so. If Hux was ever searching for a sign that he was on the right path, this certainly seems to fit the figurative bill.]

[exhuxperation]

[ This, this is what he wanted. Ren's control slides away, leaving him shifting and gasping under his ministrations. His hips arch and Hux has to pull away to breathe. It's getting more and more difficult, his own iron clad grip on himself slipping. He can taste salt, can feel it starting to coat the back of his throat and lips.

Sighing, he leans into it again, moving one hand between his own legs to palm himself through his pants. They're uncomfortably tight at this point so he undoes them, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear to carefully add pressure. At the same time, Ren is gripping his hair painfully, forcing him down and he groans into it, eyes fluttering shut. His ears feel like they're ringing and his face feels hot, skin feverish. The muscles in his abdomen are tight, pulse loud and anticipatory.

Maybe it should be embarrassing but neither of them are going to last long at this rate. ]