Kon is the first one to straighten his posture and turn to look at the window, just moments before anyone would see Jason climbing it up.
He walks in, as if he owned the place, but the only ones that stare are Kon and Bart. Tim doesn't stop his explanation, & only continues typing away. Kon had detected Jason's presence before anyone else, but now that he was seeing the man in person, he tried not to roll his eyes. On the other hand, Jason took his time to remove his helmet, revealing a beaten up face with dry blood here and there.
Without saying a word, not wanting to interrupt Tim's meeting, he made his way to Tim, leaned down and kissed him on the lips.
A kiss that was supposed to be tame, and quick, was definitely not that.
Kon sighed, and Bart whines, leaning back on his seat. "Really guys?"
The kiss is deep, passionate, and with a metallic taste, but soon it's over, and as if Kon and Bart weren't there, Jason leaves to take a shower.
Kon crosses his arms over his chest, staring at Tim, pressing him, but Tim doesn't even react.
Five minutes later, Jason comes out, looking fresh and in comfortable clothes. Kon wonders since when he has spare clothes in here, and if he also has a toothbrush in the bathroom. He rather not know.
Kon glances at him for a moment, then tries to ignore Jason and pay attention to the pictures that Tim is placing on the table.
They are able to focus, to connect the dots and even come up with two different backup plans if they need it. Everything was fine until it started to smell way too good, distracting everyone from what they were doing.
Bart started to salivate, and Kon's stomach to growl. Both of them thought it might be a good moment to wrap it up, because clearly, this was Jason's place now and they were going to have dinner soon. Even if it was probably that the food was only for Jason, but when Kon thought of speaking up, of telling Tim that they should talk about this in the morning, they heard a voice coming from the kitchen.
"I made some food for all of you, you better eat it before it gets cold."
"Huh?" Bart and Kon looked at each other, confused at the invitation, but they didn't complain.
"Okay, let's take a break." Tim began to shove everything to the laptop before closing it.
FINE. Maybe Jason wasn't so annoying as they thought.
hux who falls head first into subspace at the drop of a hat
(bonus point if he doesn't know that that's what's happening)
they're tactile friends. kylo mindlessly touches hux's hair while they're watching tv and hux goes all gooey. he leans into kylo's touches, heavy lidded and content. kylo asks about it and hux brushes it off, says that's just what happens when people touch his hair.
kylo is silently amused. he knows exactly what's happening. he cups the back of hux's head and scritches his hair. hux tilts his head back and parts his legs a bit. kylo doubts hux is aware he's doing it. he casually asks if hux knows what bdsm is.
hux mewls softly. he knows what bdsm is, but he's never done it. he's seen some bdsm porn, but he doesn't think it's his thing, he mutters.
kylo uh-huhs and bites back a laugh. hux is slowly fusing with the sofa, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. kylo extends his touches and scritches to hux's neck. it's not about his hair - kylo knew it wasn't - hux reacts the same way when kylo sticks his hand down the back of his t-shirt and rubs the top of his spine. kylo tells him he should put his head in his lap. hux doesn't pause to question it, but does as he says right away. he barely opens his eyes to do it and rubs his face on kylo's thigh, before settling down and curling his legs up toward his body.
kylo didn't expect hux to just ... do it. hux is prickly at the best of times. if kylo had known head scritches was all it took to get hux to agree with him, he would have done it a lot sooner.
hux is pliant. kylo barely has to touch him to encourage him to roll onto his back. hux blinks up at him with heavy lids, completely unconcerned about what is happening. kylo puts one hand low on hux's belly and pets him soothingly; the other he puts back in hux's hair. they lock eyes and for a brief moment kylo thinks hux will come to his senses and hit him - but hux just closes his eyes again and arches his back, asking for more belly touches.
kylo huffs a soft laugh and hikes hux's shirt up, so he can scritch his happy trail. "you're being awfully ... submissive," kylo says pointedly.
hux snorts and swats his chest, either not getting the subtext or not wanting to dignify it with a response. since kylo isn't doing anything untoward, he keeps petting hux, instead of clarifying what he meant. hux tilts his head, trying to guide kylo to a certain spot. kylo avoids it on purpose, until hux starts to whine. "do you want something?" he asks teasingly. hux wiggles his whole body, struggling to form sentences. kylo begins to question if he should continue. it doesn't feel right. kylo stops petting him and removes his hands from hux's body. hux whines softly and asks why he stopped. kylo gently tells him he thinks he's in subspace. hux makes a face; doesn't know what it is. kylo tries to explain it, says it's a bit like being high hux blinks owlishly up at him, says his name.
"mm?"
"am i hard?"
kylo glances at hux's lap. he's rubbing his thighs together. "you can't tell?"
hux shakes his head, looks pinched. "i don't know."
"have you ever felt like this before?" kylo asks quietly and brushes hux's hair back. hux is slow to answer, kylo's hand on his forehead is claiming all his attention.
he shakes his head. "don't think so. maybe. kind of."
kylo laughs softly. "think you can snap out of it?"
"don't want to," hux says and curls into kylo's stomach. "feels good." hux is hard and the fact that he can't tell worries kylo a little. he's seen people in subspace before, but hux is quite deep, considering they've barely done anything. kylo is surprised at how comfortable hux is with him; with this. hux doesn't exactly make a habit of being vulnerable in front of other people - at least not him. hux and kylo are close, sure, but not as close as hux is with phasma. kylo is not the one hux kisses when he's drunk
"tell me if you want to stop, ok?" kylo says. hux nods and mumbles a little. he pulls kylo's hand close to his mouth. they're effectively holding hands and hux nuzzles the back of kylo's hand, lost in the sensation of how kylo's skin feels against his own. it's sweet. kylo smiles and wonders what kind of stuff hux would react to if he ever did bdsm properly. he doubts it would be pain.
it's not something they talk about, but their friend group knows what brendol was like.
kylo runs his free hand over a welt on hux's lower back. hux wiggles his hips away from kylo's touch. he's ticklish. he would probably be into sensation stuff, kylo thinks. like feathers and blindfolds. maybe vibrators. kylo abruptly stops that line of thinking before he becomes hard, too. kylo pulls hux's shirt back down, covering his middle. "you look cute like this."
"like what?" hux asks, face smooshed to the back of kylo's hand.
"curled up in my lap. like a kitten."
hux opens one very judgmental eye and slowly opens his mouth and threatens to dig his teeth in. kylo raises a brow and calmly states, "if you do that, i won't pet you anymore."
after a moment, hux huffs and covers his teeth. "you're no fun."
"no?" kylo challenges and slips his hand up under hux's shirt, running his fingers over hux's side and back, scritching. a shiver goes down hux's spine and he moans softly. he's going pink in the face and down his neck. if kylo were to guess, the blush extends down his chest, too.
hux mewls "please" and kylo freezes, hand halfway to hux's nipples they're hard and showing through his thin t-shirt, practically begging to be touched.
kylo licks his lips. "please what?"
hux makes a string of nonsensical sounds and writhes, but doesn't answer. kylo keeps touching his chest softly, brushing against his nipples every so often. kylo lowers his voice, "tell me what you want, hux. i'll do it, but you have to tell me."
"you," hux mumbles. "want /you/, kylo. please."
kylo gapes. his ears burn. they probably match hux's in colour.
with kylo frozen above him, hux finally opens his eyes. "please, kylo?" he whispers, eyes hooded and dark. in a moment of clarity, hux rolls onto his back, his head still firmly in kylo's lap. with a flick of his wrist he opens his belt and jeans. "please," he says again and drags kylo's hand down his belly.
hux's belly is quivering under his hand. they haven't done this before. they flirt sometimes, but hux has never shown interest.
kylo swallows thickly. hux is looking up at him pleadingly - how is he supposed to say no to that. sliding his hands down hux's belly, down into his briefs feels like the most natural thing in the world; like he's done it a million times before. hux's skin is so warm and soft. kylo curls his fingers around the base of hux's cock and hux doesn't break eye contact. it's thicker than he had imagined. hux makes a soft, wounded sound. his hips buck instinctively; just the once. kylo doesn't know if he should just go for it. this has got to be crossing some sort of line. is he really about to risk ten years worth of friendship?
"kylo, please," hux whispers and grabs kylo's forearm, digging his nails in just enough for kylo to feel it. "i want it."
kylo tightens his fingers and hux melts. he tries his best to keep his eyes locked with kylo's, but the harder kylo squeezes, the heavier his lids become. hux's briefs restrict his wrist, but it somehow doesn't feel right pulling them down. kylo gets a slow rythm going. he can't tell which one of them is more out of breath. he's always had a thing for hux, but he never thought anything would come of it.
hux doesn't know what to do with himself. he clutches the front of kylo's shirt, keening quietly. "god, you're so big. /fuck/."
it takes kylo a second to realise hux means his hand. he glances at his hand, moving languidly inside hux's briefs. "maybe you're just small," he counters, heat creeping up his neck.
hux /wails/ and clamps his thighs tightly around kylo's hand. he's trembling all over, eyes firmly closed.
"yeah?" kylo smiles and bites his lip. he forces his hand deeper between hux's shaking legs. it's a tight fit, but he manages to cup hux's cock and balls. "you feel that?" he says teasingly. "don't even need two hands to take care of you, do i?" hux whimpers and hides behind his arms. kylo drops a kiss on one of his pointy elbows and says, "open your legs."
hux closes his legs more tightly, thighs shaking with the effort.
"hey, now, don't be like that. you want me to touch you, don't you? get you off?" there's a few seconds' delay, but hux nods. "then you gotta open your legs."
"kiss me."
"... what?"
it's muffled behind his arms, but still audible. "want you to kiss me." kylo can /hear/ the pout. kylo pulls his hand out of hux's briefs and nudges his arms aside. hux is biting his lip and peeking up at kylo through his lashes.
"you want me to kiss you?" kylo asks softly. hux nods and tilts his face up shyly. not kissing him doesn't even cross his mind. kylo cups his face gently. he doesn't have to hunch over to reach, hux surges up to meet him. he wraps his arm around kylo's neck, holding on tightly. kylo instinctively wraps his arms around hux's back and neck, supporting him. hux makes a soft sound and parts his lips, wanting kylo inside. hux's lips are so soft and plush against his own, swollen where hux has been biting them. kylo deepens the kiss. he bites hux's tongue teasingly and he whimpers in his arms.
they should have done this ages ago.
hux removes the hand from his hair and puts it back into his pants. kylo laughs softly, but wraps his fingers back around hux's dick anyway. hux sucks on kylo's tongue, while kylo rubs him off slowly.
hux doesn't need much at all before he's trembling and coming in kylo's hand, keening breathily. hux closes his thighs around kylo's hand again, but with none of the strength from before. hux breaks the kiss and hides his face in kylo's shoulder. kylo cradles him through it, praising him quietly. "good job, baby. you did so well."
hux is still half hard, but he whimpers pitifully, so kylo lets go. he scritches hux's happy trail - smearing come everywhere - and pulls him fully into his lap. "feel good?" kylo grins. hux nods and makes a happy sound. he seems more present now; more alert. he digs his fingers into kylo's hair and tugs him down, demanding a kiss. kylo is more than happy to give it to him. "you /can/ be sweet," kylo says against hux's lips, "who'd have thought?"
hux nips his lips and pulls on kylo's hair. hard. kylo breaks the kiss with a laugh and ruffles hux's hair.
hux freezes. "did you just rub come in my hair?"
kylo snorts. "no. rubbed it in your pubes, though," he winks.
hux sits up and looks into his briefs. he glares at kylo over his shoulder. "you're disgusting."
"and you're beautiful."
hux is visibly taken aback, but pushes it down hastily. "don't be daft," he huffs.
kylo smiles softly. he reaches for hux and pulls him close by the sleeve of his t-shirt. he kisses his cheek and rests his forehead against his temple. "wanna do it again?"
stede's mother called him 'dear' sometimes. his father called him lots of other things. stede and mary called each other 'darling' out of obligation, the syllables rushed, stuck together, muffled.
when stede first calls ed 'darling,' it feels like a sweet melting on his mouth.
he revels in ed's quirk of a smile, the blush in his cheeks. from then on stede vows never to stop.
he says it in all different shades, a mosaic of endearment. "more tea, darling?" "darling, be reasonable!" "darling--ah--i adore you."
he wants ed to know just how special he is.
when ed calls stede 'darling,' they're doing gunpowder inventory in the ship's stores.
"hey darling, we good here?"
it's not a particularly special moment, just a slice in the larger span of their interwoven existences, and it makes sense to say, flows easy from ed's lips.
but stede freezes. his hands shake. he thinks of the quiet flatness of the way mary used to utter the word.
and he thinks, this is it. we've settled into a routine and he's bored and he's done. ed's done.
but ed catches the look in his eyes and winks.
"didn't think two could play this game, didja, mate?"
ed tugs stede to his chest, bracing his back. "darling." a kiss on the nose. "love." the corner of stede's mouth. "babe. ooh, that's a good one. babe."
"ed." stede's voice trembles. "what are you doing?"
ed rolls his eyes like it's obvious. "testing 'em all out, seeing what we like. what you like." ed shrugs. "i'm not always great with words, but...you deserve good ones."
stede, teary, cups ed's face in his hands. "i like them all."
Initial Tweet: Omega model JM is known for his cost and sensual nest photo shoots, sponsored by the hottest bedding brands in the country….
Author: mangust_d
Rating: SFW
Recommendation: I love Twitter fics, and this one is such a good little chunk of story. I love the take charge and professional Yoongi here and Jimin who is not really ready. Excellent. I’ll have to check out more of their fics.
Chapter 1: A savior comes from out the skies in answer to their pleas
—————
Queen Anne’s Revenge needed a new drummer.
Jack had stormed out in a huff three months ago after another in a long line of screaming matches with Izzy over not overpowering the guitars and hadn’t returned. Izzy insisted he’d come crawling back eventually, but Ed had his doubts. Fang was doing a bang up job as a temporary stand in at their latest gigs, but Ed could tell from the way he looked over at his guitar case at practice with a longing sigh that they couldn’t go on like this for much longer.
After exhausting their network and coming up empty, even Izzy agreed that it was time to do what they never expected a band of their stature to ever have to do again—they booked a local venue for the day and held open tryouts.
It went about as well as they expected, which was badly. The usual suspects turned out in droves—teenage metalheads with passion and the beginnings of skill who weren’t quite there yet; aging rockers aiming to recapture their glory days by dusting off their rusty rhythm skills. There’d been a few promising options: a tattooed 25-year old with blue hair and solid skills, but a pop-punk background. A solemn, middle-aged Latina woman who kept incredible time but played too softly. But with only an hour left, Ed was about ready to call it. They’d tried.
He’d stepped back in from a smoke break and heard Izzy’s voice, sharp with irritation, punctuated by a softer, higher pitched voice that sounded confused at first before shifting to match Izzy’s tone. He rounded the corner for a closer look.
Izzy stood with his back to him, hands on his hips before the last man Ed would have ever expected to turn up at an open audition for a metal band. The man was tall, blond, and good-looking, dressed in the slim cut jeans and and polo shirt of an off-duty dad. His immaculate Vans high tops and the well-worn drumsticks clutched in his fist, however, suggested he knew exactly what he was here for. Ed stepped forward, clearing his throat, and both men’s eyes snapped over to him.
“What’s going on, Iz?” Ed asked.
Fang & Ivan had left around 15 minutes ago when it didn’t look like anyone else was coming, but he regretted sending them home now—would have been nice to have some backup, judging from the ‘get a load of this fucking guy’ look Izzy just shot him.
“THIS guy says he’s here to tryout for drums. And as I already explained to him,” Izzy said, glaring back at the now affronted-looking blond man, “tryouts are now closed. So piss off, you’re too late.”
“The flyers said tryouts ended at six,” the man pouted. Adorable, Ed thought.
“Izzy, c’mon,” Ed sighed. “The flyers did say six, and he’s already here. Don’t be a dick.”
Ed turned to look back at the blond man, whose eyes now glowed with the hope of a golden retriever staring down a snack. “I’m Ed,” he said, extending a hand. “What’s your name?”
The man smiled at him, wide and dazzling, and took Ed’s hand in his impossibly soft one for a solid handshake. “Hi, I’m Stede.”
“Steve?”
“Er, no, STEDE, actually. With a D.” The apologetic set to his mouth now suggested that this was something he had to say a lot.
“My bad, man,” said Ed with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Stede. You been drumming long?”
Stede’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Only a few years, but I’ve had a lot of time on my hands since the divorce. Plenty of time to practice when the kids are at their mother’s.”
Ed ignored the swoop of disappointment in his gut that attended Stede’s words and hitched his smile up higher in response. “Well, I’m excited to see what you have to show us today. You like metal, then?”
Stede looked thoughtful. “Not at first, admittedly. But I found out fairly quickly that it’s the most fun to play, so I’ve been broadening my horizons a bit more lately.” Izzy scoffed from behind him—Ed ignored him.
“That’s fine,” said Ed pointedly. “S’not a requirement.”
Stede looked a little embarrassed nevertheless, twisting his drumsticks nervously in his hands. “I know I don’t exactly look the part,” he said softly, “but I really do love playing. I’d like to play with you and your band, if you’ll have me. It’s…always been a dream of mine.”
“You and every other boring middle-aged fuck we’ve seen today,” Izzy grumbled, not quite low enough for it to count as ‘under his breath.’ Ed shot him a glare and he held up his hands in mocking surrender before crossing them in a huff. Ed turned back to Stede.
“I’d love to see you play,” said Ed, clapping him warmly on the shoulder. He was surprisingly solid under that dorky, but expensive-feeling polo shirt. Ed settled into the chair by the sound booth and gestures for Stede to climb the stairs to the stage and sit behind the drum kit.
“What song are you playing?” Ed asked. “I’ll queue it up.” Izzy sidled up next to him, opening his mouth to speak before—
“Painkiller by Judas Priest, please.”
The words died on Izzy’s lips, his sneer dropping into a look of pure shock before shifting into indignation. “There’s no fucking way you can play that fucking song,” Izzy snarled.
“I assure you I can,” Stede sniffed primly.
“Bold choice there, mate,” Ed said, hiding his surprise only a little better than Izzy had. “Excited to hear what you do with it.” Ed found the track and hit play. And then Stede…well, there was no other word for it.
He transformed.
His charming, affable face went steely with focused resolve and, for the first time since his arrival, he went completely still. He launched into the famously difficult drum intro with furious precision—
—and absolutely fucking nailed it.
Ed’s jaw dropped. Out of the corner of his eye, he was dimly aware of Izzy doing the same. But he wasn’t watching Izzy. He was watching a hot, blond, rich suburbanite-looking dad named Stede play the absolute shit out of the drums.
Stede didn’t miss a single beat for the entire six minutes. His brow furrowed with concentration, swaying his entire body with feeling, making it all look effortless. He even scaled back the volume during the guitar solos—it was exactly what they needed from Jack and never got. When he finished the blistering closing drum solo, he exhaled, long and low, and flashed Ed his charmingly lopsided grin once more.
“So?” He asked, pleased but anxious. “What did you think?”
Ed didn’t even look at Izzy before replying—“You’re in.”
“But—“ Izzy started.
“I’ll text you the rehearsal schedule.”
Stede’s smiled, another wide, sunny number that made Ed’s mouth go dry. “I suppose you’ll need my number for that, hey?”
Oh, now that was a look, wasn’t it? Ed felt a glimmer of hope return to him.
Ed met Stede’s glittering hazel eyes with a knowing smirk. “Suppose I will.”
—————
This was originally a twitfic that I then posted to AO3 because Twitter is sinking into the sea. Now I’m posting it here as well! Come say hi, I’m metavenhorst on AO3 and Twitter.
P.S. there’s also an excellent podfic of the first two chapters by @lindie-kninjaknitter !!
You were looking around, waiting for Time and Tay to come back to the hall. It has been five minutes since you received the last message from him, telling you to stay put. While you were watching Kim’s cousin and his boyfriend across the hall, you noticed Kinn approach them with Khun and Porsche. A few moments later, Macau and Porchay also approached beside them. The group looked like they were having serious discussions.
Porchay was sending Kinn a confused look when Vegas whispered in Macau’s ears. A moment later, the youngest of the Theerapanyakul boys pulled his best friend away from the huddle. Porchay was trying to pull away and go back to the huddle, but Macau was holding him tightly. The older Theerapanyakuls were huddling even closer. Khun looked disappointed while Vegas was trying to reason with them.
You were too engrossed in what was happening across the hall that you startled when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning abruptly in surprise, you were greeted by the face of your best friend and his lover. There were also surprised expressions on their faces while they were looking back at her.
“Are you okay, babes?” Tay asked with a chuckle. Time was also chuckling at the incredulity of the situation beside his lover.
You cannot help but also laugh with them. Shaking the haze off your head, you slipped an arm through your best friend’s. “I’m okay, babes. Are we ready to go?” you asked them.
“We took a long time to get back, didn’t we?” Time asked impishly.
You smiled up at your two best friends, loving how it feels having people who will run to your aid when you need them. “I don’t mind,” your smile was warm and bright. “Besides, people watching is fun,” you wiggled your brows cunningly at the two.
Both men laughed at you and your antics. They love each other’s shenanigans and laugh at whatever game you invent by watching crowds of people. But, it’s also because they rarely find you smiling or laughing the way there is a bright upward tilt to your lips now.
“What game did you come up with now?” Tay asked you as the three of you started walking out of the venue.
He was met with a giggle while you slip your arms through Time’s arm to keep them close to you. “I was guessing what disease this woman has that everyone seems to want to get away from her,” you smiled up at them connivingly. Both boys sent you incredulous looks. You just laughed.
“So, I’ve been watching this woman talk to various groups of people. Then, I notice that one or two people would slip out of the huddle a moment later with horrified looks on their faces,” you narrate, giggling here and there. “I was trying to figure out what was so horrific about her or her words that they ran from the hills,” you smiled at them.
“Well? What’d you find out?” Time asked with a laugh and biting curiosity. The three of you were weaving through huddles of people scattered all over the venue.
Another bout of mischievous giggles came out from between your lips as you tighten your hold on their arms. “Turns out, she’s that eccentric aunt every family has who also does not know how to hold back,” you cackled at what you found, which made the two men laugh.
Everyone can hear your melodic laugh as the three of you walk out of the door of the venue. Unbeknownst to you, an older couple was watching your exchange. The woman was full of contempt while the older man was filled with longing and concern. He watched you, the young girl in the group, step out of the venue doors, laughing and full of life. He has never seen you smile or laugh like you were doing just now with your friends. The man felt grateful to the two men that were accompanying his baby girl. He glanced down and saw the expression on his wife’s face. It made the regret, dread and disdain grow bigger in his chest.
A few days later...
Kim has been sitting on the carpeted floor of his apartment. In front of him lies the box that kept items that represent his memories with the most important person in his life now. The exchange of messages with Vegas provided him an idea on where he should start: himself.
He figured he needs to unravel all his feelings and emotions—his insecurities, doubts, fears, concerns, misbeliefs and indecisions. He needs to zero-in on every emotion he feels and compartmentalize his thoughts. Each piece of polaroid he took out reminds him of happier times, when it feels like heaven.
Every polaroid photo reminds him of the days when he was happier. There were also a few knick knacks—concert and movie tickets, cardboard coasters from cafés, cup sleeves—that he kept to remember their dates. All of it reminds him of the days when he was trying really hard to seem so strong and hide the pain that remained from the fallout. Something that Kim was so ashamed about since he had Porchay live through it with him. He was also afraid that Porchay will always look at him as that man who fell to the ground, crying his eyes out because it was just too painful to lose that part of his life.
He did not have to hide, but he still did. Kim just did not want Porchay to worry, nor let the younger boy see him weak when Kim should be his pillar. He tried so hard to act the part when he did not have to, and Kim just fell apart in the seams. It was an act he should never have started since it was unnecessary, and he sees it now—very clearly.
Yet, he could not take the thought of the woman he chose to try with off his mind. He shouldn’t. It was nice, the thought of loving her. She made it look easy; loving her, committing to her. She has no idea of his dark sides and thoughts. Also, she has not witnessed all the gloom and doom that has been his relationship with his father after music.
It’s one of the reasons he dreaded seeing Porchay. He already saw and heard everything. Porchay knows the inner workings of his mind; his thoughts, fears and insecurities. That is what scared him the most, and the very thought that Porchay would someday regret ever loving him, a weak and insecure mess. It is not what he deserves.
It’s just not it.
Not him.
He deserves someone better.
But, all of them are right. It also means that he should have heeded the pieces of advice his brother and cousin have been giving him. He should have heeded them instead of waiting over a year, trying to make something work when it never will.
It was okay to have fears, uncertainties and doubts. His fears were called for but also unnecessary; having doubts is normal. All of it just means that he loves Porchay enough to be concerned about his welfare, his future.
However, she also has been a catch. She has been his rock over the last year. Being with her was easy. It was worriless… most of the time. She made him forget all his insecurities and doubts. Maybe it is because she never knew the dark sides of his life, he never wanted her to know. Keeping the gloom and doom from her was liberating. It was liberating for Kim that he will always be just Kim, the
Yet, it was still unfair. It is unfair to her that she does not get to know all of Kim. Moreover, despite all his best efforts—even if he really wanted to—he never seems to love her like he loves Porchay. And, he has always known that he can never reciprocate her feelings. He has always known and chose to stay, thinking that someday—if he tries hard enough—he will learn to love her. It was obvious, yet he refused to see it and acknowledge it.
He was busy putting back the photos and other memorabilia inside the box again when his phone started ringing. One look at the screen tells him it’s Tay. He ignored it first, thinking that it’s not urgent and he’ll call them back later. But, it rang again a few seconds later. Figuring it was urgent, he picked up the call and put it on speaker.
“Tay, I’m occupied right now—” Kim told Tay as soon as he switched the speaker on.
Tay cut him off, sounding really panicked and urgent. “Kim, I need you to come right now,” anyone can hear the tears in Tay’s voice. “Kim, s-she really needs you r-right now and I-I c-can’t handle it anymore,” it’s apparent that Tay is shaking by the sound of his voice.
“I’m coming,” was the only thing Kim could say. He picked up his phone from the table and ran to his bedroom to change clothes. It did not take him more than ten minutes before he emerged from his bedroom in more decent clothes and out the door, car keys in hand.
During long missions away, Kylo uses the Force not just for sexual fun with Hux across the distance, but primarily to make sure Hux doesn't sleep alone. He wants to go to sleep touching him every night in case tomorrow is their last day.
Hux still isn't used to all the physical contact and affection. The fingers lightly digging into his hips when they steal a kiss in a corridor, the palm resting on the small of his back when they first enter the bridge, the gentle, almost careful kisses up his thigh. He has a hard time reciprocating. It feels alien after so many years of being taught otherwise. But Kylo is patient with him. It frustrates Hux, because how could Kylo of all people be patient, especially with him. He's used to their arguments, threats, glares across the room. He's used to being cruel, unforgiving, and cold. Untouchable. Now every night Kylo chips away even more, even bigger pieces of his armor. He doesn't want to let Kylo completely in. He doesn't want to risk disappointing him. Hux doesn't want to admit he's terrified of losing Kylo. He loves and hates Kylo's long missions. They give him a chance to patch up holes in his defenses, to prepare himself for another onslaught of affection he doesn't know what to do with. But they also leave him cold, aimless even with a list of tasks at hand.
He won't admit it to himself, much less to Kylo, that he misses the idiot terribly when he's gone too long. So it's a small comfort when every night he goes through the small ritual of calming and opening himself mentally, imagining himself as a beacon for the Knight to follow. And Kylo always finds him, always places that familiar pressure in his skull, radiates it through his body. Hux has grown too used to it. He can't sleep without it. It's weakness, but it's intimate, he argues with himself, over and over. He knows Kylo hears at least some of it. But Kylo never makes demands of Hux's emotions or affections. Demands are for the carnal moments, when one needs the bliss of relinquishing all power to the other. It's that quiet patience, knowing Kylo is waiting, that kills Hux every time he fails to reciprocate even a touch.
Some days he's sorely tempted to purposely antagonize the Knight, just to regain a semblance of familiarity. Hatred was familiar. Determination to win was familiar. Solitude was familiar. It's the solitude Kylo has completely destroyed though, that Hux can no longer find solace in. He thinks he gets a rein on it each time Kylo is away, but the icy pang of loneliness at seeing his bed empty has him almost desperately going through their ritual. He can't keep doing this. He knows it, Kylo knows it. That's clearly why Kylo treats every night like their last.
He doesn't realize just how much Kylo knows of this. How much guilt he feels at peering into Hux's thoughts, his dreams, to gain a better understanding, to act accordingly. He too is used to their bickering and insults. But he wants to push beyond that. He wants his own solace. If the reprieve from his own thoughts, his powers, his connection to the Force, is through distracting himself with focusing his all on Hux, then so be it. But it feels like a farce. It feels like he's using Hux. It only makes him more eager to touch, to make up for it.
Both of them orbit the other, unsure of how to - or if they even should - move forward. Both using the other, too scared to admit it. Too used to the connection to sever it and be done.
So Kylo makes sure Hux never sleeps alone, not knowing if tomorrow will be the day one of them takes that unsure step forward, or snaps the thin bond holding them together.
Neither will admit they're hoping the other will take the plunge and drag them along. Neither wants to identify their dynamic. Neither wants to admit how deep their feelings go. It's weakness, it's using the other, it's unfairly making them wait.
