Date: 2016-03-24 08:44 am (UTC)
narcissithstic: (us all underground)
[For all the demands of his aggression, Ren is surprisingly amenable to Hux's insistent pull. He breathes out something low and growling, settling over his companion in what little space is left before the edge of the bed dips off into polished, imported stone. A feature that exists in Ren's own room (the pristine furniture a potent sign of luxury and rank) though there's an irony in how his quarters look dead and lifeless in comparison. Uninhabited.

More appropriate evidence for the divide between them likely doesn't exist.

His free hand abandons its seething hold, drifting lazily across the width of Hux's stomach-- contours mapped through leather, direct sensation swapped for the indulgence of his own imagination-- profile dipping low to bury between those slender shoulders, strained from nothing but the demands of a rigid posture. Like this, he's beautiful. Intoxicating. Sweat and desire, need and the fevered pulsebeat in his veins. Prey worth sinking his teeth into, snapping clean through muscle and sinew and the acrid taste still clinging to his tongue-- though he doesn't. He won't.

Another steadying breath and his palm bears down broad above Hux's waistband, wanting.
]

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general armitage "wafer crisp" hux

March 2016

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