[ Purpose has guided him this far. It's been in every command, every decision. Everything up to and including this point. While the objectives vary from time to time, they're largely under the same umbrella. This is about a release, about giving up tension and replacing the restlessness he feels with something more languid. Or more harried. He wants to unspool the clenched feeling in his gut and there's no better person to do this with than Kylo Ren. After all, the Force-user knows all about lashing out and letting himself go. To let emotion rush through him like a tide. He's seen it again and again; it's no different here.
Because while he'd made the first move, it's Ren who completes it. This pattern that they've fallen into. There isn't softness between them, regardless of how quiet it'd been a few moments before. All it took was cutting the proverbial string and Ren has been loosed from his internal leash. The kiss goes hard, biting, teeth clicking and blood being drawn. His lip stings from it and he's still reeling from the coppery tang when things blur past one moment and snap back to clarity in the next.
No longer is he facing Ren, his back towards him, exposed. On his sides he can feel those bruises starting to reform from the other man's harsh grip. They aren't soothed by the warm gust of air along the nape of his neck, brushing down his shoulder blades. While Hux doesn't appreciate the switch as much, he knew what he was getting into. Even though predicting Kylo Ren is as easy as understanding the Force of which he uses.
Mind hazed over by the steely grip, he bends to the other man's will. To what he's asking without words. Quietly, he kneels on the bed, though his hand comes to close around one of Ren's wrists, fingers drawn tight as he pulls him with the motion. ]
[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.]
[ Ren is pressed close and he just wants him closer. To fully feel the mixed body heat, a guard against the chill he feels starting to creep under his skin. The Finalizer is not a warm place, this he knows. Neither should this exchange be, though there's no stopping the lingering effects of the human body.
As Ren's forehead settles between his shoulders, he sighs. A breath that's taken immediately back in and held as soft leather slides across his stomach. The touch is ghosting, near teasing—not enough. Hux lets go of the wrist he'd been keeping close, allowing Ren to do what he wanted. Those bruises are starting to sting and it's sweet when mixed with the low press of the other man's palm. Anxious, his fingers curl into the bedding, grip flexing. ]
Keep going. [ Not quite a demand, as it's tempered by a rushing exhale. Still, his voice is firm. ]
[Normally it would read as a demand. It might– even in the moment– translate to one now. If it does, it fails to slow the slide of his thumb where it edges in beneath Hux's waistband, catching the clasp with ease and knocking it loose with one deft flick of his wrist.
A single inhale pierces the silence, parallels the digging warmth where his palm dips down low between Hux's legs, rising with a heavy pressure that buckles the muscle of Ren's forearm. It's not necessarily kind— but it's also far, far apart from any idea of cruelty. There's no teasing, no skirting the line between want and tolerance they way they've done time and time again in the past.
It's a gift. It must be.
Punctuated with a kiss, struck neatly across bared vertebrae.] As you wish.
[ Whatever it translates to, Hux is moderately grateful. The latch on his trousers is loosed and then Ren's hand dips low. His palm is heavy against his straining erection and Hux swallows reflexively, dry mouthed, when he digs in. When he drags back up in a long stroke. It's not enough. His back arches with the motion, trying to press as close to the contact as possible.
Logic and reason have flown from him completely. All that remains is this. Whatever it is. Because it's not the viciousness that they normally reserve for each other, no matter how much his lip had bled from the kiss. Or from the stinging bruises. No, those are willfully inflicted and taken. There's a word for this, but he skirts around it, checking it off as pure lust.
(Though the soft kiss to his spine says something different). ]
[Even with the advantage of leverage, there's little room for maneuverability where hemlines are concerned. Aside from the fact that Ren isn't small, dipping his broad hand as low as he'd like between Hux's stirring cock and those absurd trousers doesn't come easily- even smooth fabric catches across his gloves when he draws back at the tail end of each circling pull. Hux's willingness to meet him dulls the edge (spurs him on, heartbeat high in his throat) but eventually even that gentle friction can't match the wellspring of emotion coiled hot within Ren's chest in the face of obvious frustration. His grip cinches, free hand dragging Hux closer until their hips rest flush, and then-- stutters. Flexes. Unflexes.
All punctuated by a pinched noise that dies off in the base of his throat.
Were this their usual, disruptive engagement, he'd have no problem hooking his thumb between belt loops and ripping them free. As it stands, however, chances are slim that Hux would either tolerate or appreciate that solution. Meaning in the interim, he's forced to rely on exercising patience.
Or generally being a nuisance until Hux gets the idea.]
[ With every motion, there's something like a barrier. The waistband of his underwear catches on the leather of Ren's glove, strokes stuttering. There's nothing smooth about it and his frustration grows with each pass. He can't say he's close, exactly, but he isn't going anywhere with a touch that halts as much as it does. He swallows his words momentarily, though, when the other man presses close, hips flush.
At the contact, he feels like he's burning up from his hairline all the way down to his stomach and lower. Muscles shift as he settles back, pulse pounding in his ears at the sensation. He wants more than this, more than their coverings will allow. Stilling, he breathes out heavily, covering the sound of a moan when Ren grinds forward, erection felt through layers. ]
[It's a familiar brusqueness. The bitter bite of Hux's demanding voice as he snaps in eager agitation. Even Ren, attempting to temper his own feral inconsistencies, is glad for the dip backwards into their typical routine: the chance to play antagonist, catalyst, rather than a patient participant. His teeth sink into the muscle of Hux's throat, scraping as his palms slide across those smooth, pale hips, petting him with a rolling pressure. Basking in the flow of shared heat.]
You should have taken these off first.
[Chastisement, parried banter - Ren being Ren. Hard to say which it truly is, but it also hardly matters. His fingers slow, fisting in soft fabric at the seamline where it runs thickest. One breath later, he's shredded it as neatly as paper, exposing the entirety of Hux's right side from the hip to just above his knee. If the General is in such a hurry, he wont mind; if he does he can make a mental note to keep his clothing away from Snoke's apprentice in the near future.]
[ This is their usual pace. Nothing soft or gentle or slow. They're sharp edges and bitten off words or sounds. And just like Ren, Hux is a creature of routine. This is something he knows and the familiarity is a strange comfort. It doesn't make his heart race, anxious for things he hasn't put names to. The bite against his skin has him breathing in quick and he shudders at the feel of those hands. At the pressure on his hips, because he wants this, wants what's next.
Cloth tears and the shock of it shakes him out of his haze for a moment. Anger flares hot until the chill air sets across his exposed hip and leg. He's left shifting, partially ashamed that he's letting this slide. Later, he'll be furious. Later, he'll exact revenge. For now he's left feeling flush all over, arms starting to shake from holding his weight up. ]
Must you always be so destructive? [ There's no sting to the words, not with his head tipped and loose, lips parted and soft. ]
[For all the viciousness shown, he's not immune to Hux's trembling arms or the flush that stains his skin: aggression is followed by uncharacteristic softness, the memory of humanity carried from a time when Kylo Ren lived under another name. His left hand settles across Hux's chest, cradling him high near the crux of his sternum, pinning him to the muscle of his own body where he kneels at the general's back. It isn't the first time he's used care with physical intimacy on the table - TX-701 was the first punch of emotional clarity to break the surface, and for months now the pilot has coaxed Ren beyond his own perceived boundaries in tangent with the broiling friction he and Hux have unwittingly fostered in its wake. So when his right hand sinks down across freshly bared skin, skirting down from Hux's hip, it's with practiced precision. Adopted care.
Tempered, not tepid.]
I would have no use without it. [The truth, as sincere as the pain that needles in under his skin at the admission. Brief and fleeting and forgotten when he tips his profile further in against the span of Hux's neck.] You of all people should know that.
[Because this time, when his fingertips bury themselves between the General's thighs to grip the base of his cock, nothing inhibits those inherently demanding strokes. Leather sliding over soft, velveteen skin.]
[ The softness has him breathing in slow, a rolling shiver running across his skin from the strange gesture. It's not wholly unwanted, though it tips the balance of their normal routine. Ren is warm, too warm against his back, the palm that's laid flat on his chest starting to heat him down to the bone. It's uncomfortable only in that the other can probably feel his heartbeat keenly this way. Even through the thick leather of his glove. Swallowing, he turns his thoughts elsewhere, a sound catching at the back of his throat when his other hand touches light over his hip. A glancing contact.
It's not a tease that lasts long, because then air is rushing out of his lungs as Ren grips his cock without reserve. His words are near drowned out, mentally, by the thrill that runs through him, all the way up his spine. He exposes his neck further, back arching into and towards the fingers that circle his erection, every stroke inciting a shift of his hips. One hand comes up to caress knuckles along Ren's cheek before he sinks his fingers into his hair and holds. ]
Of course, never the builder, always the destroyer.
[It isn't a question in any true sense of the word: he doesn't expect a thoughtful answer from Hux-- one hand wrapped tight around him, feeling the fevered heat that seeps clean through as the General's hips buck and shift on some instinctive, driven path-- and he wouldn't still if they were fully clothed beneath the harsh lights of the Finalizer's forward deck. Besides, the grip at his neck is secure where Hux has found traction in dark curls, and against the infrequent grace of contact where Hux occasionally draws back into the press of his own erection, pinned tight and hot; he can't find the willpower to keep his own thoughts from wandering for it.
Conversation is little more than white noise, even if there's truth in it - perhaps that's the only way Kylo Ren could bear it.]
[ Briefly, he does consider Ren's question. Would he have it another way? There have been times, when he thinks about Ren in control of himself. In control of the power he wields. How very dangerous he would be, with the Force thrumming under his skin and in perfect stability. The sharpness of his mind in combination with ruthlessness. It's a daydream, not something he entertains often but when he does, he thinks of how good it could be. Thinks of how nothing would stop either of them from getting what they wanted. It makes his heart beat faster in his chest now, flush rising high in his cheeks with the thoughts.
Hux isn't able to vocalize any of this, but his mind turns it over and over, nearly convincing himself that this version of Ren right now is like that. Maybe he is though, in shattered parts. reflecting and refracting the whole pieces like a broken mirror falling end over end.
He groans instead, hips bucking with more abandon. The leather is hot and cold and he wishes it were the other man's uncovered hand. Skin to skin. It's more vulnerable that way, but in this, there's something lacking. ]
Are you just going to jerk me off? [ The words are airy, half of them said on intakes of breath. ] Surely you must be wanting.
[One hand stays, curled down between Hux's legs keeping that pressure steady even as his movement stills—— the other lifts, working past the General's lips to find teeth.] Bite.
[Because like this, removing his gloves is a task in and of itself, much less doing so without stalling their current course. And he has no intention of breaking away. Not now, with heat prickling tight across the back of his neck.]
Swallowing a moan as the motion subsides, he tries to remain still, feeling like his heart is trapped in his throat. Fingers press to his mouth and then push past his lips, a silent demand. And then a spoken one, though Hux had already understood the gesture.
Gently, his teeth find a section of leather at the tips where Ren's fingers aren't and he bites down, tilting his head to the side. The motion pulls the glove off partially, enough to give it another tug before he can let go, leaving the hand bare. ]
[Replaced again by the insistent press of his thumb as it seeks out the slick warmth of Hux's tongue. Harder this time - not enough to draw out pain, but enough to be unyielding when he makes it clear that he has no desire to wait for Hux to eagerly comply. For the moment, they share power;for the moment, he is hungry. As eager as he'd previously suggested.
His own mouth sinks lower, he scrapes his teeth along the edge of Hux's ear, breath feverishly hot.] Suck on it.
[ Ren presses again, nearly unforgiving. He's only momentarily annoyed by the motion, but complies, mouth opening and allowing the digit to settle on his tongue. There's the lightest scrape of teeth along the shell of his ear and he shivers, unable to suppress how much this affects him. The other man's words are heated, breath a gust of warmth against his skin.
Hux doesn't waste time deliberating on the power imbalance. On how taking this command feels like giving in even though he shouldn't. At the moment what matters is the heady desire thrumming through his veins, a thrall that tips even further as he obeys the firm words. His mouth closes as he sucks, conforming to the shape and tongue running across the pad of Ren's thumb. It's oddly erotic, something he moans around as he continues, feeling his pulse tick up with every swipe of his tongue.
(He doesn't think about how he'd like to do this to more parts of him, to use only his mouth to garner a reaction). ]
[And for that compliance, Ren's other hand begins again: a series of short, shuttling tugs across soft skin-- leading him forward, forward-- it leaves the General settled on his hands and knees once Ren finishes coaxing him along, the pad of his thumb heavy as it gently rolls across Hux's tongue.
As he dips his face to kiss along the line of Hux's spine, kneading and pulling and pressing like he means to devour the other man piece by piece. The soft scent of sweat and faintly perfumed skin from grooming, the beauty of those muscles, strained and wanting. How blind he'd been for so long to what he could have possessed, rather than controlled.
And then Ren withdraws completely. Falls to the bed at Hux's side, dark curls in a tangle around his flushed face as still-gloved fingers peel down the waistband of his own trousers. As he spreads the slickness of Hux's spit to his palm and curls it tight around himself with as much determined desperation as seems appropriate for someone so chaotic. So driven.
He's breathing through his teeth; he's watching Hux without daring to look away.]
[ The hand encircling his cock slides forward again, teasing in the strokes. His hips arch into each tug, gravity and friction and pressure pushing him forward. Soon enough, he's on his hands and knees again, mouth still busily attending to the finger against his tongue.
Though, he's distracted from his work as the other man kisses down his spine, each brush of his lips an electric feeling. He can feel his muscles tensing and shifting with the touches; oddly he wants it to keep going. There's not an ounce of violence or anger, none of their usual power hungry trips. But, he craves it anyway, can sense it like an ache in his bones.
Ren's warmth disappears and he shivers, mouth open in a bit of surprise. Weight shifts on the bed, and he has to take a minute to compose himself before he looks over. Hux is greeted with the sight of Ren laying there, dark hair fanned out around his head like an imitation of his cowl. It contrasts against his skin, still so pale even with the beginnings of a flush coloring his cheeks all the way down to his chest. His eyes dart down and he can feel his pulse spike as he watches Ren touch his own cock, the dark of his glove making it even harder to glance away.
Mouth suddenly feeling a bit dry, he swallows, moves to settle back on his heels. Reaching over, he pulls Ren's hand away and replaces it with his own, fingers curling around the base before he bends down, taking him in his mouth. ]
[It isn't according to his own plan, but there's a beauty in it that even Ren can't deny, sucking in a tight breath as he feels the fevered heat of Hux's mouth closing down around him by steady, hungry degrees. Cheeks hollow for how he draws himself up, edging in deeper towards the base of his own tongue. Ren sees it. All of it.
They are not parallels, TX-701 and the General. For all that he endeavored to press Hux to his limits, never once did he truly entertain the idea of putting the man to his knees to be used the way he did his pilot. Even when the scales tipped and viciousness set in, it was always about vengeance more than it was baser humiliation (though the line blurred at times, he'll admit). A steady pause and Ren lifts his hand to curl it in the thick tangle of pale, red hair at the base of Hux's skull. Tentative pressure, leading into the heaviness of his own palm, down farther along the length of his tense cock than perhaps Hux might have immediately preferred.
[ This is not how he envisioned this going. But then, he thought his time was going to be spent alone, a leisurely enjoyment without an audience. Ren had disrupted his solitude as usual and now here they were. His tongue presses insistent along the underside of Ren's dick, cheeks intermittently hollowing as he goes.
While he might be the one on his knees, it's the other man who he gets to watch lose control. The sharp intake of breath and steady weight of his palm tell him as much. He's pushed down a fraction before he resists, swallowing at his own pace. If Ren expected him to just follow his every whim, he was in for disappointment.
Hux gets as far as he can without choking before he slides back up, tip of his tongue laving at the head. With more of a sharpness, he takes him in his mouth again, using his free hand to settle on Ren's hip. His other goes to the bruises, pushing with a soft groan. ]
Edited (Autocorrect.....) Date: 2016-05-01 01:08 am (UTC)
[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.]
[ Ren's discontent is easy to pick out– the quiet hiss between his teeth is answer where words fail. Somewhere, Hux is sure that TX-701 would never fight back. He follows, taking orders to the very end, no matter how conflicted it might make him feel. Perhaps it's too bad for the Force user that he won't be the same sort, regardless of his military affiliations. He's used to his rank being respected and followed. Going in blind is not an option.
He applies the same reasoning here. Pressure is even keeled, fingertips on the other man's hip digging in just enough. His mouth sinks back down and as he swallows there's a bit of aching discomfort. It still sends a roll of quiet want through him, magnified as Ren pushes his hand over his, voice just shy of pleading. After a few easy motions, rhythmic and purposeful, he pulls away entirely, licking his lips reflexively.
Shifting, he tugs his hand out from under Ren's, sliding it to his stomach as he settles across his hips. Both knees planted on either side, he presses down, letting out a breath in a rush at the contact. ]
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2016-03-24 07:37 am (UTC)Because while he'd made the first move, it's Ren who completes it. This pattern that they've fallen into. There isn't softness between them, regardless of how quiet it'd been a few moments before. All it took was cutting the proverbial string and Ren has been loosed from his internal leash. The kiss goes hard, biting, teeth clicking and blood being drawn. His lip stings from it and he's still reeling from the coppery tang when things blur past one moment and snap back to clarity in the next.
No longer is he facing Ren, his back towards him, exposed. On his sides he can feel those bruises starting to reform from the other man's harsh grip. They aren't soothed by the warm gust of air along the nape of his neck, brushing down his shoulder blades. While Hux doesn't appreciate the switch as much, he knew what he was getting into. Even though predicting Kylo Ren is as easy as understanding the Force of which he uses.
Mind hazed over by the steely grip, he bends to the other man's will. To what he's asking without words. Quietly, he kneels on the bed, though his hand comes to close around one of Ren's wrists, fingers drawn tight as he pulls him with the motion. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-24 08:44 am (UTC)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.]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-25 07:29 pm (UTC)As Ren's forehead settles between his shoulders, he sighs. A breath that's taken immediately back in and held as soft leather slides across his stomach. The touch is ghosting, near teasing—not enough. Hux lets go of the wrist he'd been keeping close, allowing Ren to do what he wanted. Those bruises are starting to sting and it's sweet when mixed with the low press of the other man's palm. Anxious, his fingers curl into the bedding, grip flexing. ]
Keep going. [ Not quite a demand, as it's tempered by a rushing exhale. Still, his voice is firm. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-26 08:45 am (UTC)A single inhale pierces the silence, parallels the digging warmth where his palm dips down low between Hux's legs, rising with a heavy pressure that buckles the muscle of Ren's forearm. It's not necessarily kind— but it's also far, far apart from any idea of cruelty. There's no teasing, no skirting the line between want and tolerance they way they've done time and time again in the past.
It's a gift. It must be.
Punctuated with a kiss, struck neatly across bared vertebrae.] As you wish.
no subject
Date: 2016-03-26 09:06 am (UTC)Logic and reason have flown from him completely. All that remains is this. Whatever it is. Because it's not the viciousness that they normally reserve for each other, no matter how much his lip had bled from the kiss. Or from the stinging bruises. No, those are willfully inflicted and taken. There's a word for this, but he skirts around it, checking it off as pure lust.
(Though the soft kiss to his spine says something different). ]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-27 11:31 am (UTC)All punctuated by a pinched noise that dies off in the base of his throat.
Were this their usual, disruptive engagement, he'd have no problem hooking his thumb between belt loops and ripping them free. As it stands, however, chances are slim that Hux would either tolerate or appreciate that solution. Meaning in the interim, he's forced to rely on exercising patience.
Or generally being a nuisance until Hux gets the idea.]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-28 03:36 am (UTC)At the contact, he feels like he's burning up from his hairline all the way down to his stomach and lower. Muscles shift as he settles back, pulse pounding in his ears at the sensation. He wants more than this, more than their coverings will allow. Stilling, he breathes out heavily, covering the sound of a moan when Ren grinds forward, erection felt through layers. ]
Get on with it or get out.
no subject
Date: 2016-03-28 06:49 am (UTC)You should have taken these off first.
[Chastisement, parried banter - Ren being Ren. Hard to say which it truly is, but it also hardly matters. His fingers slow, fisting in soft fabric at the seamline where it runs thickest. One breath later, he's shredded it as neatly as paper, exposing the entirety of Hux's right side from the hip to just above his knee. If the General is in such a hurry, he wont mind; if he does he can make a mental note to keep his clothing away from Snoke's apprentice in the near future.]
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Date: 2016-03-28 07:14 am (UTC)Cloth tears and the shock of it shakes him out of his haze for a moment. Anger flares hot until the chill air sets across his exposed hip and leg. He's left shifting, partially ashamed that he's letting this slide. Later, he'll be furious. Later, he'll exact revenge. For now he's left feeling flush all over, arms starting to shake from holding his weight up. ]
Must you always be so destructive? [ There's no sting to the words, not with his head tipped and loose, lips parted and soft. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-29 12:31 pm (UTC)Tempered, not tepid.]
I would have no use without it. [The truth, as sincere as the pain that needles in under his skin at the admission. Brief and fleeting and forgotten when he tips his profile further in against the span of Hux's neck.] You of all people should know that.
[Because this time, when his fingertips bury themselves between the General's thighs to grip the base of his cock, nothing inhibits those inherently demanding strokes. Leather sliding over soft, velveteen skin.]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-30 07:47 am (UTC)It's not a tease that lasts long, because then air is rushing out of his lungs as Ren grips his cock without reserve. His words are near drowned out, mentally, by the thrill that runs through him, all the way up his spine. He exposes his neck further, back arching into and towards the fingers that circle his erection, every stroke inciting a shift of his hips. One hand comes up to caress knuckles along Ren's cheek before he sinks his fingers into his hair and holds. ]
Of course, never the builder, always the destroyer.
[ And isn't this just another example? ]
no subject
Date: 2016-03-31 08:49 am (UTC)[It isn't a question in any true sense of the word: he doesn't expect a thoughtful answer from Hux-- one hand wrapped tight around him, feeling the fevered heat that seeps clean through as the General's hips buck and shift on some instinctive, driven path-- and he wouldn't still if they were fully clothed beneath the harsh lights of the Finalizer's forward deck. Besides, the grip at his neck is secure where Hux has found traction in dark curls, and against the infrequent grace of contact where Hux occasionally draws back into the press of his own erection, pinned tight and hot; he can't find the willpower to keep his own thoughts from wandering for it.
Conversation is little more than white noise, even if there's truth in it - perhaps that's the only way Kylo Ren could bear it.]
no subject
Date: 2016-04-01 07:28 am (UTC)Hux isn't able to vocalize any of this, but his mind turns it over and over, nearly convincing himself that this version of Ren right now is like that. Maybe he is though, in shattered parts. reflecting and refracting the whole pieces like a broken mirror falling end over end.
He groans instead, hips bucking with more abandon. The leather is hot and cold and he wishes it were the other man's uncovered hand. Skin to skin. It's more vulnerable that way, but in this, there's something lacking. ]
Are you just going to jerk me off? [ The words are airy, half of them said on intakes of breath. ] Surely you must be wanting.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-16 06:08 am (UTC)[One hand stays, curled down between Hux's legs keeping that pressure steady even as his movement stills—— the other lifts, working past the General's lips to find teeth.] Bite.
[Because like this, removing his gloves is a task in and of itself, much less doing so without stalling their current course. And he has no intention of breaking away. Not now, with heat prickling tight across the back of his neck.]
no subject
Date: 2016-04-21 06:19 am (UTC)[ So wouldn't that make them both eager?
Swallowing a moan as the motion subsides, he tries to remain still, feeling like his heart is trapped in his throat. Fingers press to his mouth and then push past his lips, a silent demand. And then a spoken one, though Hux had already understood the gesture.
Gently, his teeth find a section of leather at the tips where Ren's fingers aren't and he bites down, tilting his head to the side. The motion pulls the glove off partially, enough to give it another tug before he can let go, leaving the hand bare. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-04-23 04:55 am (UTC)His own mouth sinks lower, he scrapes his teeth along the edge of Hux's ear, breath feverishly hot.] Suck on it.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-23 05:25 am (UTC)Hux doesn't waste time deliberating on the power imbalance. On how taking this command feels like giving in even though he shouldn't. At the moment what matters is the heady desire thrumming through his veins, a thrall that tips even further as he obeys the firm words. His mouth closes as he sucks, conforming to the shape and tongue running across the pad of Ren's thumb. It's oddly erotic, something he moans around as he continues, feeling his pulse tick up with every swipe of his tongue.
(He doesn't think about how he'd like to do this to more parts of him, to use only his mouth to garner a reaction). ]
no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 04:56 am (UTC)As he dips his face to kiss along the line of Hux's spine, kneading and pulling and pressing like he means to devour the other man piece by piece. The soft scent of sweat and faintly perfumed skin from grooming, the beauty of those muscles, strained and wanting. How blind he'd been for so long to what he could have possessed, rather than controlled.
And then Ren withdraws completely. Falls to the bed at Hux's side, dark curls in a tangle around his flushed face as still-gloved fingers peel down the waistband of his own trousers. As he spreads the slickness of Hux's spit to his palm and curls it tight around himself with as much determined desperation as seems appropriate for someone so chaotic. So driven.
He's breathing through his teeth; he's watching Hux without daring to look away.]
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Date: 2016-04-25 04:46 am (UTC)Though, he's distracted from his work as the other man kisses down his spine, each brush of his lips an electric feeling. He can feel his muscles tensing and shifting with the touches; oddly he wants it to keep going. There's not an ounce of violence or anger, none of their usual power hungry trips. But, he craves it anyway, can sense it like an ache in his bones.
Ren's warmth disappears and he shivers, mouth open in a bit of surprise. Weight shifts on the bed, and he has to take a minute to compose himself before he looks over. Hux is greeted with the sight of Ren laying there, dark hair fanned out around his head like an imitation of his cowl. It contrasts against his skin, still so pale even with the beginnings of a flush coloring his cheeks all the way down to his chest. His eyes dart down and he can feel his pulse spike as he watches Ren touch his own cock, the dark of his glove making it even harder to glance away.
Mouth suddenly feeling a bit dry, he swallows, moves to settle back on his heels. Reaching over, he pulls Ren's hand away and replaces it with his own, fingers curling around the base before he bends down, taking him in his mouth. ]
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Date: 2016-04-30 07:19 am (UTC)They are not parallels, TX-701 and the General. For all that he endeavored to press Hux to his limits, never once did he truly entertain the idea of putting the man to his knees to be used the way he did his pilot. Even when the scales tipped and viciousness set in, it was always about vengeance more than it was baser humiliation (though the line blurred at times, he'll admit). A steady pause and Ren lifts his hand to curl it in the thick tangle of pale, red hair at the base of Hux's skull. Tentative pressure, leading into the heaviness of his own palm, down farther along the length of his tense cock than perhaps Hux might have immediately preferred.
They are not equals, TX-701 and the General.
But in this, at least, they are close.]
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Date: 2016-04-30 07:54 am (UTC)While he might be the one on his knees, it's the other man who he gets to watch lose control. The sharp intake of breath and steady weight of his palm tell him as much. He's pushed down a fraction before he resists, swallowing at his own pace. If Ren expected him to just follow his every whim, he was in for disappointment.
Hux gets as far as he can without choking before he slides back up, tip of his tongue laving at the head. With more of a sharpness, he takes him in his mouth again, using his free hand to settle on Ren's hip. His other goes to the bruises, pushing with a soft groan. ]
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Date: 2016-05-05 08:47 am (UTC)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.]
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Date: 2016-05-10 11:20 pm (UTC)He applies the same reasoning here. Pressure is even keeled, fingertips on the other man's hip digging in just enough. His mouth sinks back down and as he swallows there's a bit of aching discomfort. It still sends a roll of quiet want through him, magnified as Ren pushes his hand over his, voice just shy of pleading. After a few easy motions, rhythmic and purposeful, he pulls away entirely, licking his lips reflexively.
Shifting, he tugs his hand out from under Ren's, sliding it to his stomach as he settles across his hips. Both knees planted on either side, he presses down, letting out a breath in a rush at the contact. ]