[Ren winces once, a hiss slipping between teeth as Hux tenses, flexing back against the weight of his own palm. It's the closest he comes to expressing discontent with the General's refusal to be steered blind; in truth, there's no mustered indignation or rage so long as Hux's contact stays constant and generous, fingers a warm, steady pressure and his mouth--
His mouth.
Had Ren a better reach, more advantageous positioning, he'd aggravate those bruises. A gift, despite the conflict that'd sparked their origin. Another clipped noise, another moment of unforgivable satisfaction and Kylo Ren finds himself wishing the General's grip wasn't so stern or sensible - free hand clamping down overtop of slender knuckles, adding pressure to pressure, craving the painful bite of aggravated skin.
The sweetness of his tongue.]
More... [He manages at last, teeth bared, flinching.]
no subject
His mouth.
Had Ren a better reach, more advantageous positioning, he'd aggravate those bruises. A gift, despite the conflict that'd sparked their origin. Another clipped noise, another moment of unforgivable satisfaction and Kylo Ren finds himself wishing the General's grip wasn't so stern or sensible - free hand clamping down overtop of slender knuckles, adding pressure to pressure, craving the painful bite of aggravated skin.
The sweetness of his tongue.]
More... [He manages at last, teeth bared, flinching.]