Archive of Our Own ^beta

Poe strolled along the covered walkway with Ibra Getstart (or maybe Gesstart or Gessart, he wasn't entirely sure of the name). He was smiling and trying to joke with her. It was looking like a good day, despite the fact that the First Order had nearly vaporized one of their cities the day before. A good day for Poe, at least. With that in mind, he probably shouldn't have been trying to find humor in the situation, but the many unpleasant realities of war had jaded him.

She came to the door of the place, a squat, bunker-like building nestled among the roots of enormous trees. Poe had grown up with a little more arborist background than average, plus he'd always been a fan of any trees big enough to fly pod racers past them. "Are those wroshyr trees?"

She paused and looked up. "Yes, I think so. That or a relative."

"I thought they only grew on Kashyyk."

"They grow anywhere."

"Do they?"

She waved a hand at them as though they were her proof. "This place was settled by Wookiees, way back. I guess they planted them."

"Are there Wookiees here now?" He'd skimmed the planetary info in the most cursory fashion, but he thought the population was nearly all human.

"No. Empire took them."

"The Empire … oh."

She nodded. "Indentured labor."

"You mean slaves," he said.

She shrugged.

"All of them?" he asked.

"Yes. The Empire certainly thought they got all of them. I've heard they used to have hunts here."

He didn't like her tone, like she didn't care that the Empire's appetite for slave labor had caused them to wipe out an entire planet's population and then slaughtered any survivors as entertainment. All that was left were the trees. He frowned up at them, silent sentinels, the only gravestones the Wookiees would ever have here.

Ibra pointed out, "You're not here for a history lesson."

"No." Poe shook himself out of it. And it had seemed like such a good day. He supposed it still could be if he could brush this off as just another war atrocity with this one having happened before he was even born. "Nope, not here for that," he said with an attempt at cheer. "Tell me about this guy."

She nodded. "He hasn't given us anything, but not for lack of our trying. We've left his face alone and no head trauma, so he still has everything you might need. You're getting a bargain. We've softened him up for you."

"Uh-huh." He was still expecting that this was a ruse of some kind. The idea that a planet this remote and sparsely populated would have a First Order general – Armitage Hux himself – was hard to believe. But the scorched remains of one of Debran's larger settlements argued they had, at least at one point, possessed something the Order considered important enough to waste ammunition on. The lives lost wouldn't have mattered, but the ammo probably did.

The door slid back to reveal a front room that took up less than a quarter of the building. He was disappointed there was nothing much to see – some sort of office or lounge with a comm station in the corner. It looked normal enough. She took him to the next door, which slid aside with a wave of her hand and the security pass in the bracelet she wore. He walked in cold, stopping exactly one pace into the room as he realized what he was seeing. Poe Dameron was not so jaded that he couldn't still be shocked.

There was a mostly naked man, bound and dying. His face was dark where it should have been pasty. He was gasping. There was a band of some kind around his neck tied around a leg of the table. The table was on its side. So was the man. His knees were tied to two other legs of the table. His hands were held behind his back with metal binders. Poe's brain put together what had happened quickly enough – he'd been tied to the table and left unattended. The table had fallen over or it had been knocked over in the man's struggles to get free. In the new position, the band around his neck which had previously functioned to keep him bent over was now strangling him.

Poe ran forward. Ibra was just standing there. Poe didn't stop to see why or what her expression was. He fumbled with the band, trying to loosen it, but it was tied to the leg on the side of the table which was now uppermost. There was no slack and it wasn't flimsy enough for him to merely tear it with his hands. Not having a knife, he pulled out his blaster and shot the cord.

The man jerked at the blast so close to his head. He was shaking as Poe jabbed a finger between neck and band, sawing it back and forth to regain enough space for him to breathe. He did, gasping rough intakes of breath. He had light orange hair and pale skin, but it wasn't until Hux stared up at him, gaping and wheezing, that Poe was sure it was the guy he'd seen in holos. He was scruffy and dirty, but it was definitely him.

Poe crouched next to him, blaster still in hand. Hux's entire body was filthy. His underwear was stretched over his spread thighs. There was a smear on his hip, more on his buttocks, and bruises anywhere that the bone was close to the skin. The place stank of sex. Or rather, rape. Poe would have stopped breathing if he could have to spare himself the smell – sweat, blood, semen, and a strong taint of fecal matter. Hux was still staring at him, saying nothing, memorizing his face, maybe. Waiting for him to do something. Poe looked up at Ibra.

She was frowning. "He'll clean up," she said.

"You knew what they were doing to him in here?" Poe's voice came out cold as space.

She shrugged, distaste coloring her features. "I left."

Poe tilted his head, but his voice stayed frigid. "You left and they did this without you knowing, or you left because you knew they were going to do this?"

She rolled her eyes. "We didn't know anyone was actually going to buy him. There aren't many you can sell someone like him to, you know."

Very slowly, Poe repeated, "Did you know they were going to do this?"

"That's why I left," she said, exasperated and annoyed.

Poe shot her. He didn't even think about it. He just did it, without a shred of guilt or remorse.

The door at the other end of the room opened just as she hit the floor. Four men stood in the door, all dressed in the rough outfits that passed as militia uniforms on Debran. The one in the lead was drying his hands. They looked from the table to Ibra's smoking corpse to Poe, who was still crouched next to Hux, holding his blaster. It wasn't hard to put together what was going on. Poe dropped the first one before any of them could clear weapons from holsters, then ducked behind the table as blaster shots rang out.

Poe downed a second of them by sheer luck, firing over the top of the table without even looking. One darted to the side, getting a line of fire around the furniture, while the other ran up on the opposite side of the table and used it for cover. Poe dashed back, trying to take cover next to the door he'd come in through. The angle gave him no cover at all from the guy behind the table. He was about to die and he knew it. So he took down the one who had come around the side, knowing the other would blast him while he did. Instead, there was a loud noise of some kind and a curse from that direction.

The one he'd shot fell. Poe found himself to be surprisingly alive and unblasted. He swung to the last one, who was picking himself up from behind the table. The table wasn't where it had been a moment earlier – with his legs still tied to it, Hux must have shoved the furniture into him and knocked him down. The militia man gave the table a solid kick which sent it into Hux's front. Hux grunted. The moment of distraction was perfect. Poe shot his target square in the chest.

Poe took a quick glance around – all dead. He hurried back to Hux's side. "You okay?"

No answer. Not surprising. "Stupid question, I suppose," Poe muttered as he fumbled with the ties on the man's legs. They didn't yield immediately and were too close to Hux's clammy skin for him to be comfortable using his blaster again. As soon as he stood to canvas the room, he saw a stash off to the side of what he needed – keys, code cylinders, Hux's uniform, and as he approached to snatch the keys, he saw a hilt with a few centimeters of broken knife blade. It was enough to cut the bindings, so he grabbed everything and dropped it to the floor next to the man.

Once the legs were cut free, Poe tugged up Hux's underwear and turned him face down on the floor. Hux tried to watch over his shoulder. Poe examined the key for a moment before using it to release the binders. Hux made a pained noise and turned his face away, obviously trying to stifle himself. Hux clenched and unclenched his fists, but didn't move his arms.

"Kept you like that for a while, did they?" Poe asked, knowing firsthand how prolonged confinement could begin to ache and then become agonizing to the point that even when freed, the arms would be immobile. Hux nodded. Poe said, "Okay, I'd love for you to get dressed and stuff, but they might have heard the blasters. We have to get out of here right away. Can you walk?"

No answer to that, either, but Hux got a knee under himself and started pushing himself up. Determined bastard. Poe could respect that. He gathered up Hux's stuff and then slung Hux's arm over his shoulders. Hux hissed and bit off a whimpering noise. "Yeah," Poe told him. "I know it hurts. Let's get to my ship."

---

He only killed two more people in the process of getting off the ground, but it was enough to set off alarms, assuming the five dead and liberation of a very valuable prisoner hadn't done that already. Once in the air, Poe's every attempt to catch some black was thwarted, driving him back to the surface of the planet. He shot down several other ships, but there were simply too many, with more on the way, and he was spending most of his time dodging.

Hux was uncomplaining about the maneuvers. Poe tried yelling at him to help out with the guns, but nothing came of it. Hux was not Finn. Plus what he'd been through … well, Poe put his attention on flying and stopped yelling at his passenger.

He was making another dive to avoid a trio of pursuers when the ship jolted with impact. A quick glance at the controls showed everything was nominally functional, but smoke was trailing behind them. It gave Poe an idea. "BB-8! We're going for those trees – all the way down! Vent some exhaust. Make it smoke! Let's make a crash landing of this. Deflector screens forward at full."

It took the shielding off their aft, but that would only matter for a few seconds. Laser bolts blazed around them as they finished their descent, with Poe juking enough to look like uncontrolled flight but in actuality making himself a harder target. They crashed through the canopy of the tall trees, with Poe doing his best to avoid hitting any vegetation too large for the shielded starfighter to simply plow through.

Missiles tried to follow them in, exploding into tree trunks and having less success despite being smaller. Poe had to bring the ship nearly nose up at the end before cutting power and letting it slam back to horizontal in the roughest landing Poe had ever had that wasn't an actual crash. His heart was pounding, blood pumping in excitement, but his voice was steady and mind clear.

"Cut power, BB. Everything. Go dark!" He flipped switches fast as he could to help out. The engines quieted and the normal hum of electronics fell silent. The ship steamed. Up above, their pursuers were likely wheeling and scanning, trying to determine how bad the 'crash' was. "With any luck, they'll think we're dead. If they don't, I can always fire it up and take off again."

He looked around at the forest looming up around them. "It's going to be nearly impossible to take off from here. Not completely. Just nearly. I can do it." More important, he supposed, would be the valuable seconds between being discovered and the ship coming back online. BB-8 warbled a question about who he was talking to. "Either of you. Both." Keyed up as he was, he didn't care.

BB-8, at least, made an acknowledgement. Hux did not.

---

After long minutes in the cockpit without air circulation, the smell of Hux was impossible to ignore. Poe wrinkled his nose. Saying something about it was useless. Hux clearly had nothing to do with his situation. Poe took off his helmet and leaned forward, craning his neck for the umpteenth time. Like before, he saw no sign of their pursuers. Not that there was much to see through the dense greenery. Visually, he was only likely to see them if they came in low and slow. "BB-8, you hear anything?"

The droid made an uncertain warble followed by notes about the local fauna – various types of birds, lizards, and insects which had resumed their vocalizations after the crash landing had faded from their short-term memories. "Huh," Poe answered. The important thing was that BB's sensitive audio receptors weren't picking up sounds of nearby ships, which he would if there were still flybys in progress. "That's probably as good as we're going to get."

Poe twisted in his seat to look back. Hux had not made a sound since they'd landed and not much before that. He didn't say anything now, though his eyes twitched out of a vacant stare to meet Poe's, then dropped. He went back to being zoned out. Poe's mind flashed again to the scene he'd walked in on and what must have happened in the hours before it. The First Order had attacked three days before. What they'd done to Hux hadn't been interrogation – oh, it might have started that way, but clearly it had become revenge – a sadistic and depraved revenge.

Poe opened the canopy to sweet, fresh air. "Come on. I'm going to get you out of there and see what I can do for you." That got Hux's attention again, but no action. Poe climbed out and had to lean back in to release Hux's safety straps. At least Hux had had the presence of mind to fasten them himself to start with. It was a good sign.

The way Hux leaned away from him as he undid the straps was not a good sign, but he didn't blame him. Hux gathered up the bundle of clothes and held them to his chest once Poe had released him. Softer, Poe said, "You want to get dressed, right? Come out. We'll get you cleaned up, bandage what needs to be bandaged, and you can get dressed."

Hux didn't respond. Poe gave him a long look, then turned to fish around at the side of the pilot's compartment for the survival pack. He pulled it out and tossed it down, then kicked free the hook ladder to get to the ground himself. The ground was a springy mat of organic material, accumulated from fallen leaves, wood punk, and similar detritus. Most of the planet was wilderness like this. They were easily hundreds of klicks from what passed as civilization here. He looked up and waited to see if Hux would follow him. He did. Eventually.

Hux picked his way down the ladder with particular care. One of his feet could barely bear his weight, which Poe had noticed as they ran. His arms were still giving him trouble. Something must have happened other than normal restraint. Hux leaned on the starfighter and ended up using his armpits on the ladder rungs once he was low enough. He reached the ground with difficulty and without his clothes, which he'd left behind.

"Go ahead and have a seat," Poe said, going back up the ladder to retrieve the general's uniform and boots. When he hopped back down, Hux was seated, knees half up and torso hunched forward over them. His arms hung at his sides. He was staring off to the side, away from Poe.

Poe opened the survival pack and took out the first aid kit. "Can you tell me what your injuries are?" No answer. He looked over. Still with the vacant stare. Poe grimaced. "Can you hear me?" A glance. The barest nod. Hux looked away again.

Something occurred to Poe abruptly. He hadn't heard a single complete word out of Hux – only sounds. "Can you talk?" Hux swallowed and didn't answer. Poe opened a packet of sterile wipes and cleaned his hands, then moved to his knees next to Hux. "Let me see." He reached toward Hux's mouth.

"Yes, I can talk," Hux hissed, but his voice was faint and croaky. He coughed and winced, pulling away from Poe with a curled lip and bared teeth.

This was an excellent way to get bitten. But Poe was reckless. He smiled and joked, "Okay. Can I see anyway?"

"No." Still faint. He was hoarse, as though he'd screamed his voice out, though the ligature mark from the band probably had a lot to do with it as well. Both thoughts deterred Poe more than the threat of Hux biting him. Poe rocked back on his heels and pulled the first aid kit over. He got out another sterile wipe.

"We're in no hurry," Poe said calmly. "I'll do this slowly. I'm going to clean you up and treat everything I can, which might not be all of it. Let's start with this hand." It was Hux's right. Index finger and possibly thumb were broken. He couldn't tell for sure. Poe cleaned gently. After a few moments, Hux pulled back from the disconnected, thousand-yard stare and focused enough to watch. Poe scrubbed blood off his fingers and worked lightly on the index finger. He taped it to the one next to it with a bit of gauze between them.

Hux reached over with his other hand. At first Poe pulled back, thinking he was going to touch the tape. Instead, he reached past and touched Poe – the back of his hand and his knuckles. Hux didn't look up at him – just watched what he was doing and where he was touching. It was like a thank-you, Poe decided.

When Hux withdrew that hand, Poe continued up the other arm, just feeling. Hux was not bulky, but what muscle he had was lean and strong. He might not have a physically demanding life, but he clearly exercised. He passed by the expected rash and abrasion where the binders had been left on, possibly for days, and felt carefully over the shoulder joint. Poe was unsurprised when this made Hux blink and tense. Poe said, "They hung you by your arms. Did they dislocate your shoulders?"

Hux didn't answer. He seemed to recoil a little and sink into himself. Poe said, "I'm no doctor, but this feels socketed right. Can I lift your arm?" Without looking at him, Hux lifted his arm halfway. Poe gently pushed it higher. There was no complaint and it moved without any great resistance. "Okay, so they either didn't dislocate or you managed to get them back in place. Good for you."

Poe leaned forward and said quietly, "If you won't talk to me, then I'm going to go over everything in case I miss something." Hux made no objection. Poe slowly, carefully, pulled up Hux's shirt and lifted it over his head. He pulled it down his arms. Hux clutched it before Poe could take it away, holding the stained fabric in balled fists in front of him. His hands trembled at first, then steadied.

Poe had had something of a look at his chest and back when he'd been tied to the table, shirt rucked up to his armpits, but now he could take his time. Hux had been flogged across the back. Whether it was methodically or haphazardly, Poe wasn't the sort to know the difference in appearance, but there weren't very many inches of back without at least a welt and many of them featuring broken skin. It didn't go up to his neck and stopped at the start of the small of his back. The top of his shoulders were filthy, but cleaned up to show no wounds.

His chest was different. There were three parallel, vertical cuts across one pectoral, starting a few inches above the nipple and going down a hands-width. They were deep enough to reach muscle and had bled down his front. On the other side he had five round burns that Poe was sure matched the business end of an overheated blaster. His ribs below were bruised, with one patch about the size of a fist darker than the others. It had bled under the skin, purpling in a way that Poe imagined meant broken ribs and internal damage. His stomach looked fine, but that didn't mean Poe assumed he hadn't been hit there – it just didn't show.

Everything was both dirty and bloody, like he'd been thrown on the floor or knocked to it while shirtless. He'd obviously been shirtless at various points – the shirt wasn't damaged by the burns or lashings. He must have put what clothing he was allowed back on himself after the torture. So he hadn't been in binders the whole time – not that it likely mattered.

Having been tortured himself, Poe couldn't help but make comparisons. The pointlessness of it all was what struck him the most. What could Hux possibly know that was worth torturing him at all? And even if he did know something, it seemed clear that at some point they'd stopped trying to get it out of him and were just being evil.

Poe breathed out heavily, checked the number of wipes, and started to work.

Hux remained dissociated, but Poe did not confuse compliance with submission. Hux had fought when he was able; he'd answered Poe's questions when necessary; he was capable of reaction. Hux shivered from time to time, but he otherwise didn't move as Poe scrubbed blood from his skin. Poe touched the darkened area over his ribs and asked, "Are these broken?"

Hux hesitated, then made a tiny nod. He probably didn't know and Poe wasn't going to go probing around to find out. Not that he was sure he'd even be able to tell by touching. He wasn't a medic. Poe said, "I have one bacta-impregnated bandage sized for a blaster wound. I'm going to put it here. Is this the worst injury you have?" He wasn't sure how much medical knowledge Hux had either, so he added, "This doesn't work great on broken bones, but it will take away the pain, swelling, soft tissue damage, and help with the bones. Okay?"

Hux shut his eyes, then gave another nod. Poe stripped the tabs off the adhesive patch and applied it. "I also have a tiny tin of actual bacta here. It's a miracle I have any at all. It doesn't have a great shelf life and the Resistance is underfunded to say the least, so a lot of kits don't have any." Poe paused. Hux's eyes were still shut, but Poe knew he was listening. "I'm not sure what it says that they made sure my kit had some." He chuckled. Hux's eyes opened. He looked at the tin in Poe's hand.

Poe went on. "If I leave your back alone," he said as he broke the seal on it, "there's probably enough here to do those lacerations and burns and a little leftover for the bottom of your foot. Does that sound like a good plan?"

Hux swallowed, half-cleared his throat, and said, "Yes."

Poe cleaned his finger and dabbed it over the wounds on Hux's chest. Just as he finished, Hux put a hand on his again, giving a small squeeze. Poe looked up at him. They were close. He smelled better now – even if it was antiseptic. Poe said, "I'm sorry this happened to you." After a beat, Hux's brows made what amounted to a facial shrug and he glanced aside. Poe smiled. "You've still got a sense of humor? That's good. You can put your shirt back on, by the way."

Hux fussed with the cloth, but didn't put it on. Poe set aside the bacta tin and got out a new wipe. Whoever had handled Hux during the rape had smeared a filthy hand across his lower back and Poe assumed dirtied him worse further down. He cleaned what he could without moving underwear or Hux. Hux had set aside the shirt and was watching Poe with sharpened intensity.

Poe looked up at him. "I can clean you up back here. You can't see yourself, but I'm sure you feel grimy. But you'll have to take your underwear off and you'll have to move so I can get to you."

Hux shivered again. It seemed harder than mere cold. Poe waited patiently, until finally Hux shifted to his side, facing away, and pushed his underwear to his knees. He stayed facing away, not looking. It was not the most convenient position for Poe, but on the other hand, he wasn't sure Hux could support himself using his arms, which meant hands and knees was out as a position.

"I'm going to touch you," Poe said gently, warning him before putting the wet wipe to his butt cheek. He stayed well away from his crack, even though that was the worst part. There was something tacky as the wipe interacted with Hux's skin. They'd used lube, Poe realized, which struck him as grosser than if they hadn't. Maybe it was the premeditation.

It lessened the chance that Hux was physically injured, but they'd probably done it only for their own pleasure. There was enough of a mess that Poe didn't think it was from one person. There had been four of them who'd left to clean up. If even one hadn't participated, they would have stayed behind to keep an eye on the prisoner. Which meant … all four. This time it was Poe who shuddered.

He discarded the wipe in the growing pile he'd formed and pulled the next one. There were two and they were the last ones. He knew he needed one for Hux's foot so he set it aside. The other, he held out to the side where Hux could see it if he looked back. Poe said, "Do you want to clean the rest of yourself back here?" When Hux didn't answer, he added, "The middle."

Hux took a deep breath finally and looked back. He looked paler than before, which was saying a lot. He took the wipe. Poe wasn't sure he was actually going to do anything with it, but eventually he did. It just took him a long time to get started through whatever mental fog of trauma he was dealing with. When he did, Hux scrubbed at himself with a vigor that was unnecessary and possibly unwise. He flung away the wipe when he was done with it and then succumbed to a full body fit of shaking, with a protective hand over his lower abdomen or perhaps groin.

Poe put a hand on his arm without thinking. A moment later, the thought occurred to him that Hux might not want to be touched (given what had happened to him). He lifted his hand off, but Hux half rolled to his side, reached out to snatch Poe's hand, and slapped it back on his arm firmly enough to be an order. "Yes sir," Poe said, acknowledging it.

Hux froze in place, expression uncertain. Maybe he hadn't intended to effectively snap at Poe. Poe settled his butt on the ground next to Hux's hip and pulled on the arm a little. "Lean against me. You're trying to keep your back off the ground, right?" Hux looked down at Poe's body and let himself be rolled to lean on Poe. Poe rubbed his arm, keeping a constant contact if that was what Hux wanted.

"They're dead," Poe said. "The ones who did this to you." Hux nodded slowly. Poe asked, "Was there just the four? Well, five with the one I walked in with."

Hux nodded again. He cleared his throat. "Two on each half-day shift. One … supervisor who resented her assignment. They …" He coughed. "They made the most of the overlap between shifts."

"You really do have a sense of humor. Dry as the Jakku desert at high noon, but it's there."

"I'm glad they're dead."

"You know, there have been a few people try to tell me that all sentient life is precious and I need to be a little slower on the trigger." He shrugged. "Guess it hasn't sunk in yet."

Hux looked up at him and smiled – not a broad one, but it was a real smile. Poe was relieved to see it.

Poe leaned back on one arm and with his other reached for Hux's underwear. "You should probably go ahead and pull these up."

"No!" Hux struggled up to sitting and shoved them all the way off. He wadded up the garment and threw it into the woods in the same direction as the wipe. He was naked now, entirely so. "Give me my uniform." It was also an order. Even if he could hardly speak, the tone was unmistakable. Poe didn't mind. He handed over the stack of clothes. The stuff fit fine without underclothes, though Poe assumed it would chafe his back and smear around the bacta on his front.

Poe didn't offer to help as Hux dressed himself, but he kept an eye on how he handled the tunic. The first arm went in fine. Getting the other in was a struggle. Poe lifted the end of the tunic's arm out and to the side so Hux could more easily get his own arm in there. His range of motion wasn't good.

When Hux went for his boots, Poe spoke up. "Whoa. Wait. I need to look at your foot. Okay?"

Hux heaved a sigh and dropped the boots. He pivoted and provided his feet to Poe. The bottom of his right foot had an X cut in it, as well as a smaller one on the pad of his big toe. It had bled and been walked on. It was inflamed.

"This looks infected."

"Hm."

"I only have one wipe left here. The survival pack stuff is for minor injuries and not a fully body wash with scouring." He did what he could. It must have hurt like hell, because for the first time, Hux jerked in pain at one point. Poe had been using a scrubbing motion, obviously with too much pressure.

"Sorry, sorry," he said and lightened his touch. He used the rest of the bacta and taped regular gauze over it, using more than half the gauze in the first aid kit for it. "I don't think you should put a boot over this. Your foot's swelled."

He wondered at first if Hux was going to ignore him, as the man went forward with putting his left boot on. But for the right, he slipped his sock over it and set the boot where he could rest his foot on top of it rather than on the slightly damp ground. Hux rested his forearms carefully on his knees.

Poe put away the various used wipes, wrappers, and the empty bacta tin. Hux asked quietly, "Is there water in a Resistance survival pack?"

Poe blinked at him, then dug out a canteen. "Yes. Yes there is." He uncapped it and handed it over. "Did they …" Poe started, then didn't bother with making it a question. "They didn't give you food or water. Don't drink it all at once. You'll turn your stomach." Hux still downed a third of it in nearly one go. He coughed after. Poe handed him a meal bar, having pulled it out while Hux was sucking down the water.

Poe opened a meal bar for himself and sat next to him in the same pose, forearms on knees. "I didn't count the meal bars, but there should be plenty for both of us given I'm only planning on staying here a day at most." He supposed he should go look at the engines before getting too much ahead of himself. He was thinking this when Hux reached over and touched his hand – first the side of the heel of his palm, then the back of his hand above it, where wiry dark hair grew.

Poe gave him a questioning look.

Hux swallowed and pulled his hand back to his knee, acting … embarrassed. "Your hands are rough," he said as though that were a normal observation to make. His voice was better after the water. He still hadn't opened the meal bar. Maybe he wasn't starving after all.

Poe looked from his hand to Hux. He was saying something with all of this touching, but Poe wasn't sure what it was. He reached over and put his hand over Hux's, slipping his thumb underneath. Hux didn't pull away. He just stared at the contact like it was so bold he didn't know what to do about it. Poe smirked. No, apparently Hux didn't think this was normal, either.

Poe rubbed Hux's palm with the pad of his thumb a couple times, then put his hand on his own knee. "Your hands are smooth." Soft. Poe had felt softer, but for an adult human with a presumably active life, they were pretty soft.

Hux took another long drink of water. When he set it down, Poe said, "Hand that here."

"You're going to drink after me?"

"Uh-huh." Poe turned it up without hesitation, drank, and put it back between them.

Hux blinked at the canteen, then gave as much of a laugh as he could without coughing. He opened his meal bar and chewed on it slowly.

Poe said, "You're not contaminated. You've been hurt. You'll heal."

"Will I?" he said in a bitter, hoarse whisper.

"You will."

Hux looked at him wide-eyed for a long beat, then down at Poe's hand. He reached out again and touched it gently, stirring the hairs in a ticklish fashion that gave Poe a frisson. Hux's expression held a flash of hope, maybe of real empathy there for a moment. He was beautiful that way, Poe saw. It was strange to see an enemy general like that. But the look faded from Hux's face and he drew his hand back to himself. "You said you had a plan. When do we leave here?" Hux asked.

"Let me go look at the engines," Poe said. He got out some tools and reviewed the situation. He looked over to where Hux was still sitting. "You want a status report?" Hux nodded. Poe said, "Looks like more damage than I expected, but nothing I can't cannibalize off other systems and patch together. Obviously, it's flyable even with the damage, but I want everything working when we leave out of here. Might be some tricky flying."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Control vane is shot. Blasted. I can't point the ship as well plus I lose efficiency off the engines. But it's just an actuator and a fin." Poe went over to where BB-8 remained socketed in the ship. Poe showed the droid the scorched actuator he'd removed from the housing. The housing was cracked, too, but it would probably hold up for another flight, plus he didn't have a way to fix it. "Where can I rob one of these?"

They discussed the options and Poe scavenged an actuator off the sensor array. It meant he was only going to get good readings in one direction, but it was a trade-off he'd accept for better flight performance. By the time he was done with repairs, it was dark and he was tired. Hux had pulled the thermal blanket out of the survival pack and laid down.

"You asleep?" Poe asked quietly as he walked over.

"No." His voice was almost normal. He'd eaten the meal bar earlier and rustled through the pack, so it seemed he was feeling better.

Poe looked up at the starfighter above them, a vague outline against the rapidly descending gloom. "I'm not too keen on flying right now. I'm tired and every extra hour they don't see anything from us on the scopes makes it easier for us to slip out when we go. So … you okay with staying here overnight?"

"I'm in no hurry to get to the Resistance."

Poe laughed. He sat down next to where Hux was lying. "Yeah, I'll bet. What about the First Order?"

"Are you taking me to them?"

"Well, no." He assumed Hux was joking with him, but it was too dim to see his expression. "But isn't that where you want to go?"

"My captors expected them to launch a rescue mission for me. That's why they moved me from Durafallon to the remote base you found me in, and routed communications through Durafallon the better to deceive the Order as to my location." Hux paused to clear his throat, this having been the most he'd yet spoken. "The Order was deceived. As you may have noticed, they elected to destroy the city of Durafallon instead of attempting rescue."

"They tried to kill you? The First Order tried to kill you?"

"Try? The only reason they stopped is they think they did."

"Why did they try to kill you?"

"I was being used as a bargaining chip. They removed that bargaining chip. That's what you get for taking hostages from the Order. If the planet were more settled or if they had any reason to believe I was still alive, they would have razed it all. As it is, there's no point in blowing up unoccupied forests. Your presence here tells me the First Order has moved on. Is that true?"

"Yeah, it is. I'd heard there was action here and happened to be close enough to pop in for a look. Your guys were gone, but the smoking crater was still there. I tried to raise who I could. That's how I found Gesstart or whoever."

"You were going to buy me. Instead, you stole me. Fitting."

"I rescued you." He couldn't see Hux's expression, but he imagined a silent, judgmental side-eye. "I killed them."

"Which lowered the price considerably."

"Hux, as much as I … hate to admit it, those guys were nominally Resistance allies. They're not on the side of the First Order. Obviously. I killed a dozen of them today and freed their most important prisoner. Them being Resistance allies? That's past tense now. I'm not going to try to smooth this over with them, either, because there is no way in all the hells I'm handing you back to them." There was heat in Poe's voice, outrage at how Hux had been treated and some of Poe's unacknowledged feelings about his own torture.

"I see," Hux whispered, as though to himself.

Poe exhaled heavily and changed the subject. "Wouldn't the Order take you back if you showed up?"

Hux sighed. "Pryde must have my position now. To take me back would mean he'd be ousted. It's quite the incentive to prevent my return."

It sounded complicated. Poe didn't do well with complicated. "You want me to let you sleep?"

"Yes."

Poe chuckled dryly. He looked up at the starfighter again, or at least where he knew it was. He could get a marginally comfortable rest inside it. But to be well-rested at the end, he'd have to put the seat back, which made it impossible to have a passenger in the seat behind him. Much less one who was trying to sleep on their own. So he could sleep there, but he'd have to leave Hux alone on the ground.

Not gonna. He went up the ladder and rooted around in the cockpit to remove the bottom seat cushions. While he was at it, he gave directions to BB-8 to keep watch through the night in case unwanted animals came too near or ships passed overhead. He dropped back to the ground with the cushions, carefully finding his way over to Hux. It was absolutely dead dark down here, with the sky entirely blotted out by the trees. He feared a light source would attract wildlife rather than keep it at bay, so they stayed in the dark.

He found Hux's shoulder and touched his neck or jaw. It was bristly, whatever it was.

"What? What are you doing?"

"Lift your head," Poe told him. "Got a pillow for you." He slipped the cushion under Hux's head, then put the second next to him and laid beside him. "Are you on your side?" Poe touched lightly at him to confirm.

"Yes. I … My back."

"Yeah, I saw it. Probably for the best that you stay off it." Poe arranged himself. The ground was soft enough. He thought he could do this – sleep here. "Give me some of the blanket."

"It's not large enough for two." But Poe could hear it rustling anyway as Hux unfurled it from himself.

"Was it the only one in the pack?"

"I think so." Hux pressed the edge of it against Poe's chest. Poe found it with his hand and pulled it over himself a little. Hux's uniform was thicker than Poe's outfit, but Hux was in worse shape, really. Poe toyed with the edge of the blanket, thinking it was unfair to take it from him. Maybe he ought to put Hux in the starfighter?

"Hey," Poe began.

"Yes?"

"Do you want to get closer?"

He felt Hux's hand touch his arm briefly. "We're already very close. We can't …" A moment of silence. "How much closer?"

"Close enough that one blanket will cover both of us." In answer, Hux scooted forward, finding Poe's body and putting himself against it. Poe raised his arm. "Just come here. Under- yeah, like that." Hux tried to figure out where to put his head. The obvious place was Poe's chest and he finally settled there. Poe said, "Bring your knee up over my legs. You'll be more comfortable that way. Lean on me."

"You like this?" Hux asked, his voice arch. But then he immediately softened it. "I mean, do you … actually like it?"

"Yeah, I do."

Hux slid his leg over Poe's. He rested his head on his chest. He let his arm lie on Poe's belly. Poe tugged the blanket around both of them and tucked it in as well as he could. It was warm enough.

"No need to lie down," Dr. Kalonia said after Hux transferred back to the medical bed, sitting on it. "I'm going to start by applying a dermaseal spray to your back, then fresh bacta on all the open wounds. Your foot, hand, ribs and possibly internals will need more than that, but I can at least get rid of the minor stuff so you can relax easier during the main event."

Poe stood by while she went through the process, chattering cheerily to Hux throughout. When done, she offered a gel capsule and said, "This is the sedative. You swallow it – don't chew – and your stomach acid will dissolve the coating. It's fast-acting. You'll feel it when it hits your bloodstream. You'll feel calmer, relaxed, and like things don't matter too much. You'll also feel a little voluntary muscle paralysis. You'll still be able to move, but you might be uncoordinated."

With emphasis, she added, "This is not strong enough to overcome adrenaline. If you're really determined, it's not going to stop you. You will be fully aware during the procedure unless you want something stronger." She lifted the capsule, "This only takes the edge off. I have stronger if you want."

"No." He took the capsule from her.

"Okay. It doesn't last long – fifteen or twenty minutes. No lingering effects."

He looked around the room. "No one else will enter?"

"I locked everything down while you were cleaning up. If anyone else needs the medbay, there are other compartments. If there's an external emergency, follow my directions."

"Where did General Organa go?"

Kalonia shrugged. "Back to work. I told her you'd be incommunicado for a few hours. And you will be. No one's going to hustle you out of here right after. You'll have some time to recover. I don't expect this to be easy for you." She glanced over at Poe, then looked back to Hux. "Do you want him out of here?"

"No." His tone was definite. He swallowed the capsule.

"Let me know when you start to feel it. Once you do, you'll lie down facing this way." She pulled around a screen on an adjustable arm. "If you want to, you can watch what I'm doing."

"I doubt that will be desirable," he said with a tone of dread.

She handed him the remote anyway. "I want you to go ahead and hold the remote so we don't lose it. I have to record it so if you're back in here in a day or two, I can compare development side-by-side instead of trying to remember what I saw. Some people like to watch so they know what's happening and have some context for what they're feeling. A lot of this will feel unfamiliar. It's your choice."

"You've done this often?"

"What? Treated First Order people?" She winked at him.

Hux made a flustered sound and looked to Poe. Poe said, "You being here is not entirely unprecedented."

"Nope," Kalonia agreed. "Not at all. Not the first. Probably not the last."

Hux snorted softly. "Well, what I meant was have you done this particular procedure before?"

"Yes. It happens … more often than you might think." She smirked. "All my other cases have been consensual or self-inflicted." She leaned in a little to give Hux a conspiratorial whisper, "Medics see everything."

His eyes widened. "I feel it." Hux lifted his head, blinking. "The sedative. Oh."

"Then you need to lie down." She touched his shoulders and guided Hux to his side, facing away from her. Then she pulled out a prepared tray of tools and materials, setting it a little below the level of the bed next to her. "Comfy?"

"Yes," Hux answered. He opened a hand toward Poe, who moved closer. Hux touched his waist, directly over his blaster, which Poe decided was simply incidental, although he noticed Kalonia's eyes following the touch as well. She pursed her lips and continued setup. Poe put a hand on Hux's upper arm. He wasn't shaking this time, or at least not so far. Then again, the doc had worked hard to put him at ease.

"I need your legs in a certain configuration," Kalonia said, "so I'm going to move them. Okay?"

"Yes." Despite the sedative, Hux's voice was tense.

She moved his legs, then had him tilt his hips. She pulled around a second screen that lined up in front of her.

"What's that?" he snapped, looking over his shoulder.

"Same feed as your screen, but you have yours off."

"Oh." Hux pulled back the hand he'd been touching Poe with and turned on the screen. From what Poe could see, it wasn't showing anything much yet except for Hux's still-covered back end. "I feel tired," he said irritably.

"You're supposed to. That's a good thing. You can toggle that screen between views. You'll have an internal one in a bit." She sounded cheerful about that.

"Joy."

Kalonia chuckled.

Hux had a sudden concern. "I did not … clean … internally."

"Don't worry about it. If you have a puncture going on, then the last thing we want is for you to be forcing pressurized water in there. Like I said, medics see it all." With that, she moved the drape out of the way, exposing Hux's buttocks. That was when his breathing shifted and he paled. She touched his butt cheek with a gloved hand. The other held an applicator. "Take a few deep breaths."

"What's in your hand?"

"This is lubricant." She turned it several directions so the hovering cam droid saw it from different angles. "It will ensure that none of the instruments I'm about to use abrade your skin or the membranes inside."

"Erm." Hux coughed. She glanced up at Poe.

Poe rubbed Hux's arm. "I'm right here, buddy. You still okay with this?"

"Yes, yes." His voice was fainter.

Kalonia spread his cheeks and applied the lubricant. Poe watched Hux's face. Hux was fixedly watching the screen. His body was tense. He flinched when she inserted the speculum even though she'd warned him first and he could see it coming.

"What did they use on you?" Kalonia asked. "It makes a difference in what I'm looking for."

Hux swallowed. "A rifle barrel of some kind. Local variant."

"Did it have sights? Sharp edges?"

Hux toggled the screen. At some point, the internal feed had started. Some color had come back to his face. He actually looked intrigued or at least engrossed by what he was seeing. Almost as an afterthought, he said, "I don't know. I didn't see."

"Hm, yeah. You see this over here? To the left on your screen."

"Yes."

"Those are lacerations. This is swelling. That's inflammation. Do you see that?"

"Yes." Tension was bleeding out of Hux and being replaced by lethargy.

"So now I check for perforations. Most of this will be uncomfortable. You don't have a lot of nerve endings in here, but you have some so if you feel some pressure you know what's going on. You can see it on the screen. Just bear with me."

Relaxed or not, he started shaking a few moments later. Or maybe that was the result of him no longer holding himself as tensely as he had been. "I'm- I'm- I can't-"

"Almost done."

"What's happening?" Poe asked, either of the doctor or Hux.

"Psychological shock," Kalonia said without evident concern. "He won't die of it. I'm almost done. Hold tough for a few moments more. I'm adding medication and then I'll be out." She changed implements and looked at the screen for a few moments, using it to guide whatever she was doing. As far as Poe could tell, Hux was getting a bacta suppository. He'd been told bacta couldn't be used internally, so maybe it was something else or the rectum didn't count. Either way, Poe kept one hand on Hux's upper arm and let Hux hold the other one in both his hands. Kalonia said, "His vital signs are fine. Don't worry."

She inserted something else, but Poe's attention stayed on Hux, who clung to Poe's hand with a single-minded intensity. True to her word, Dr. Kalonia was finished a moment later. She extracted everything and dropped the drape over Hux. She handed Poe a heated blanket to help cover him. She dimmed the lights and scooted over a chair to Poe's side.

"Have a seat. Usually I'm the one staying with someone after a procedure, but he seems to want you."

"Yes, I do," Hux said weakly. "Not … meaning any offense." He glanced up at her. The shaking had stopped shortly after getting a blanket, which left Poe wondering if he'd just been cold. He supposed not. It wasn't that cool in here. But whatever had happened was predictable enough that Kalonia obviously had a procedure for it.

"None taken. I'm going to get a dermal regenerator and give you a break until the sedative has cleared your system. That will be another ten minutes or so. Don't get up until then. I'll be in the next room and I'll have passive audio monitoring, so yell if you need help. The system here will keep an eye on his vitals." She waved at the bed Hux was on, then she patted Poe on the shoulder. "You're doing great."

"Him?" Poe said. "Yeah, he is."

"I meant you." She patted him again. "But he's doing good, too." She left the room.

Hux breathed out heavily, repeatedly, once she was gone. With a grimace, he rolled on his back and stared up at the ceiling, achieving the motion with something of a flop instead of any grace. "Ow." Clumsily, he tucked the warm blanket around himself.

Poe helped with the blanket. "The regenerator is probably for your back. I know it can't be comfortable for you to lay like that."

"It isn't. I have quite a few other places it could help as well."

Poe nodded agreeably. He adjusted the chair and put an elbow on the bed. He picked up the discarded remote and toggled off the screen. The cam droid went back to its docking port. Hux watched and made a displeased snort about it.

Poe said, "You know, I understand why she had to record it, but yeah, it's a weird thing to have recorded about yourself."

Hux snorted again. "I have the Resistance to thank for making sure I don't die of being stabbed in the asshole by a guerilla with a weapons fetish." Poe stroked his forearm. Hux turned his head and looked at Poe. "I am … amazed you stayed for that."

"You wanted me to."

"But you didn't have to. You're interested in me?" As the tension faded from the procedure, his voice relaxed into a slight slur. He was, after all, still drugged. And no longer so keyed up from having to relive violent and recent trauma.

"Yeah." Poe played with his forearm – scratching it a little, fondling it. "It was your idea."

"Was it? Brilliant of me."

Poe chuckled. "Yeah, it was. You'd think a life debt would be more about you doing things for me." Poe sighed and kept toying with Hux's arm. "But I'm happy to help you."

"Good," Hux said, sounding either sloppy drunk or drowsy or both. "I need a lot of help."

"Hm."

"I feel I have an obligation to tell you I have no desire to ever have anal sex again in any form, giving or receiving."

"That stuff's stronger than she let on, isn't it?"

"What?"

"The sedative. This … just doesn't sound like the sort of thing I'd expect you to blurt out."

"Perhaps not. As she said, nothing much matters. Certainly not my propriety. Not about this." Hux sighed, staring at the ceiling. "Should I find it in myself to be concerned that you haven't answered the question?"

It hadn't been a question, but Poe knew what he was talking about. "How do you feel about other forms of sex?"

"I … I would be open to exploring them. With you?" He looked over at Poe, coloring slightly.

"Yes. With me." Poe bent and kissed the back of his hand, then nipped the skin there. Hux grinned and squirmed slightly on the bed. Poe straightened and patted his hand.

Hux asked, "I suppose you want me to tell you about Ren now, right?"

"Uh …" Poe adopted a wary look. "Is that the thing you've been trying so hard to keep secret?"

"Yes."

"Then, no. I don't want you to tell me just because you've been drugged up. I promised: No truth serum, no nothing that's coercive. Tell me about something else."

"What else is there that you'd want to hear? I know many great secrets. I could tell you all of them. I'm very grateful. Grate-full. Full of great secrets. Ah, do you hear that? There's a … a word thing there."

"Yeah, I hear it. Is this what you're like when you're drunk?"

"Of course not! I hold my liquor wonderfully. Even Opan says so. You should meet him. Interesting man. The doctor might like him. I'm sure they'd have much to discuss. He kills people, you see. Of course, so do I ..."

Poe realized he needed to take control of the conversation before it went somewhere very bad. "Tell me about your childhood. Same thing you asked me."

Hux snorted yet again. "I asked you about your happy childhood. Though I suppose it's fine. If we only have five or ten minutes before this wears off, that might be all the time I need to discuss the good parts." He smiled wryly at Poe.

---

They had a private audience with Rey and General Organa. Hux's uniform had been returned to him, cleaned and pressed. He didn't have any underwear under it, a thought that shouldn't have been occupying Poe's mind but it was anyway. The guy looked unfathomably sharp. The scruff just accentuated that somehow. 'Skinny guy, kind of pasty' – well, Poe had been trying to be insulting at that time, but it did show that he'd paid attention to Hux's appearance even then.

It was almost enough to distract him from what Hux was saying – but not entirely. "Why the Order was there doesn't matter," Hux told Rey and General Organa, "so I'll move on to the important issue-"

"What is it then?" Poe interrupted. "The reason you were there? You mentioned it."

"I did not mention it. It's irrelevant and probably out of date. What is important is-"

"If it's not critical, then why not tell us?"

"Because I don't want to!" Hux said indignantly. Rey and Leia gave each other a look as Poe deliberately teased Hux. He liked the way the color bloomed on Hux's cheeks and the fire lit in his eyes.

Poe was grinning, his own eyes dancing as he slouched against the wall and brushed some of his hair out of the way. Not that it was really in his way – more … he was preening. "But it doesn't matter. So why not tell?"

"I said I wouldn't and I won't!"

"Gentlemen!" General Organa cut in. "You bicker like an old married couple and I should know. You sound like me and Han!"

"There might be a reason for that," Poe snarked quietly, but he, too, thought it was funny. From the lingering look Hux gave him, he liked the attention even if he was pretending not to. "Married life's not that bad."

Leia shook her head with a sigh. She turned to Hux. "Get to the point."

"I was trying!" He turned again to mock-glare at Poe, who lifted his chin and grinned at him some more. Hux's anger deflated, assuming it were even genuine. Poe wasn't convinced it was. Leia rubbed her face.

Hux turned back to tell her, "The important part is that Kylo Ren has fallen ill in a way our best medical droids can't help with. He's comatose most of the time and in what lucid moments he's had, he's claimed to have been possessed by the dark side or some spirit thereof. I think it's connected to the artifacts his knights recovered from the Endor system. But regardless, the First Order is effectively leaderless at the moment."

"Well," General Organa said, blinking at the sudden seriousness of the subject, "That is a bombshell. Now we know why the First Order has been running quiet for the last few weeks." Hux nodded.

"You …" Poe began, then continued, "You were in charge."

"Yes. Functionally."

"Which is why they bombed the city to kill you," Poe said. "Why that … General Pryde, right?" Hux nodded. "Why he won't take you back. Because he'd have to give up ultimate power. He's in charge now."

"Yes," Hux said.

Leia asked, "Why doesn't this general just kill … Kylo Ren?"

Hux said, "He still has his knights."

Leia said, "He could get around them."

"Perhaps so," Hux conceded. "It's not something I attempted."

Rey asked perceptively, "Why didn't you?"

"Why should I? I was already in charge. Besides, it sounded like whatever dark side abomination he was containing might 'get out' if he died."

"Would it?" Rey asked.

Hux gave her a perplexed look. "I have no idea!"

"Okay." She held up her hands in disgruntled surrender.

Leia asked, "So what do you want from us?"

"I don't want General Pryde running the First Order. Ren and I had our differences, sometimes violently, but he never tried to kill me. I would rather have him in charge, as much as I loathe to say it. So I came here to ask your Jedi to intervene in this issue of the Force. Ren … asked for her. Repeatedly."

"Me?" Rey said softly. With a stricken expression, she turned to Leia. "This is why he hasn't reached out through the Force. He can't. He's blocked. He must have cut himself off to isolate this … possession."

General Organa said, "I have some ideas about that. We'll discuss it later." She turned to Hux. "Where is he?"

"Aboard the Finalizer. I'm sure my security access will have been suspended, but I can give you information, schematics, and security protocols that relate to him – what the knights have put in place for the last month. I doubt it will have changed since Pryde came to power."

General Organa said, "I appreciate this information, but I have to ask – what makes you so certain that we'll use it responsibly that you're willing to tell us?"

Hux was silent for a long moment, then said simply, "Poe."

Poe cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. Everyone was looking at him – General Organa, Rey, and Hux. Hux smirked. Poe felt his face heat. "I … uh … I just tried to do the right thing." He decided this was not the time to admit he'd shot a half dozen people who might have been Resistance allies and were definitely just people he shot because he didn't like what they'd done. And then shot another half dozen of them in the course of freeing a First Order general. There might never be a time to admit that.

"I suspect it was the right thing," General Organa said approvingly.

Poe coughed and moved along the conversation to something less likely to result in questions about what he'd actually done. "Okay, well, we should figure out how to act on this information now that we have it. We could find someone to slice into the Finalizer. I'll fly in a team. We'll pull him out-"

Leia shook her head. "Not you, Poe. I have a different team in mind."

"Already?"

"Yes," she said calmly.

Poe pulled his head back, offended. "You're going to need someone to fly them in. I'm the best pilot you have!"

"Poe," Leia said, "I have many skilled pilots who can do that job. I have only one person whom the acting leader of the First Order lists as the reason why he's providing us with information."

Poe frowned. He looked over at Hux, who was quietly talking to Rey about something. If he didn't go on the mission, he'd get to spend more time with Hux. That certainly wouldn't be the worst thing to happen in the galaxy. Things were just getting interesting between them. He turned back to Leia. "Okay."

She leaned forward and raised her brows, blinking or maybe batting her eyes at him. She looked to be waiting for some response from him.

"What?" Poe said. "Am I supposed to argue with you?"

"That you didn't tells me … oh so much." She smiled impishly, shaking her head a little. "Stay with General Hux for now. He needs someone to show him around, anyway."

Hux had finished the side conversation with Rey. He said, "With all due respect, General Organa, I am no longer entitled to be addressed by my rank. I am not the acting leader of the Order."

"But you were," she said.

"Well, yes," he admitted. "Not that we called it that. Functionally, I was the highest rated general. Kylo Ren was still in charge. He was just … unofficially incapacitated."

"You're splitting hairs," Leia said. Hux shrugged. "Have you been in touch with the First Order to find out what your legal status is with them right now?"

"No," Hux said. "I presume it is 'deceased'."

"You're not deceased. And you're still a general as far as you know."

"They-"

"And you might be a general yet again," she said, cutting him off with an impatient wave of her hand. "Let's see how this plays out."

---

"Same room?" Poe looked over at Hux, who was examining the underwear choices he'd been given. A pack of hygiene supplies was on the table in front of him.

"Yes?" Hux answered.

"Yeah," Poe said, turning back to the quartermaster. "Same room. Mine. But I'll need a bigger bunk."

"Not a second bunk?" she asked.

"No," Poe said. "Just a bigger one."

"That's … nonstandard."

"We're engaged."

"Oh." She blinked and looked over at Hux.

Hux looked at Poe. "Engaged in … what?"

"Marriage." Duh. Why would he even ask? Didn't they have engagements in the First Order?

But the expression on Hux's face said everything. Even if it was somewhat subdued, it was shock and bewilderment. He swallowed. "Um. Yes. Yes, of course." He made a jerky motion with the underclothes he'd been looking at. "These are fine. I'll take them."

"We're not!" Poe said in sudden exclamation. "I've been going along all this time thinking-! And I was wrong!?"

"This isn't my fault! Why would you even think we were?" Hux burst out, throwing the clothes down on top of the hygiene pack. The quartermaster leaned as far back as her chair allowed.

"You …!" Poe shook his head, rolled his eyes, and waved expansively. There was too much to explain. "Okay, fine. Never mind. I was wrong." He was shocked at how much that admission knocked the breath out of him – not because he didn't like being wrong (he did not), but because of what it meant between him and Hux. He'd been enjoying the idea that they were together. He turned to the quartermaster. "Two rooms."

"One!" Hux snapped. "One room! One bed!" The quartermaster made some faint noise of acknowledgment. Hux took a step closer to Poe, head tilted. "If you were willing- You thought-? Then …" His voice crumbled. "Then …" The woman in charge of stores and room allocation looked back and forth between the two men. Poe could only imagine what she was thinking, but it wasn't her thoughts he cared most about.

Poe stared at a spot on the floor, rubbing at the middle of his forehead. He braced himself. "Yeah, I thought that's what you meant with the reason for living and the life debt and the kiss and all that." He shook his head. "I don't know how you do things in the First Order. I just assumed … it was different. And that I was, maybe, agreeing to something." He looked up at Hux without raising his head. His voice switched to husky. "You agreed. Just now. Earlier in this conversation." Poe clung to that.

Hux stared at him. The woman kept looking between them. "I did agree," Hux said, voice clear. "I agree now, if that's an option."

Poe lifted his head and pulled together his courage. "Armitage Hux, do you agree to marry me?"

"Yes." There was only a hair's breadth of hesitation. It seemed like nerves, not second thoughts. The woman swallowed noisily.

Poe was certainly feeling nerves himself. His gut was more in a knot than it had been from any combat. He laughed a little, trying to shake out the tension. He turned back to the quartermaster. "My room; bigger bunk."

She scrubbed at her face briefly before inputting something on her datapad. "Your room, bigger bunk, then," she said in a high-pitched, half-strangled voice, struggling to remain professional. She gave Hux the room number, although Poe could have done that himself.

Hux wasn't finished with the conversation yet. "When we're married, do I still owe you a life debt?" There was an odd lilt to his voice.

"No," Poe said after a beat. "You don't-"

"What if we get a divorce? Do I go back to owing you then? That would be tyrannical if you turn out to be an unfit partner."

"No, it- Unfit? You never owed me anything, really."

Hux drew himself up in offense, but his expression wasn't quite right. "What, do you think I'm such an honorless churl that what you did for me didn't deserve acknowledgment?"

"No, that's not-" Poe hesitated. Hux was acting strange.

"You're the one who proposed to me!" Hux said and Poe realized he wasn't angry about it at all. Or offended. He was thrilled, and a weirdo by expressing his feelings in mock outrage. "Repeatedly, apparently!"

Poe huffed and moved to him. "Yes, I did," he growled. "Now come here." He pulled Hux down and kissed him, which was returned passionately.

"Guys," the quartermaster said, "you have a room. Maybe you should go to it?"

---

The door to Poe's quarters slid open and they stepped inside. Hux could walk – he'd insisted on such since leaving the medbay. Even if he limped and wore a bulky protective boot over his foot, he was moving under his own power. He looked back and forth in the room, which didn't involve much of an arc. "These are officer's quarters?" he said dubiously.

Poe rolled his eyes. "Okay, it's small. But it does everything I need."

"I'm sure you tell everyone that."

Poe's head whipped around and his jaw dropped in an open-mouthed grin. "Hey!" he said, for lack of being able to think of what else to say. Had Hux just made a joke about dick size? No, scratch that, he'd definitely made a joke about dick size. He hadn't even seen Poe's dick! Wait, did that mean he was interested in Poe's dick?

Hux straightened, drawing himself up to his full height. "I'll always be taller than you," delivering a second insult even more juvenile than the last, apparently because his first hadn't gotten the response he wanted.

Poe laughed and shoved him against the wall, being careful as he did. Hux was still a bag of bruises and half-healed injuries, plus Poe didn't know him that well. "I'll cut you off at the knees," he threatened.

Both of them were studying the other, eyes scanning faces. "Will you?" Hux dipped his head and turned it, lips parting. Poe tipped his head back and did the same. "As long as you don't cut me off from anything else," Hux murmured, kissing him.

"Like what?" Poe asked next time he got a chance.

"Like this."

"Ah." They resumed kissing. "Not a problem." Poe was reassured, warmed even, that Hux wanted him. Not that Hux had been shy about making that clear – not at any point since the previous night – but Poe was glad to get confirmation on what Hux wanted out of him. When they next parted, Poe said, "I should give you a tour, so you don't get lost."

Hux looked around the cramped room. It was maybe 15 square meters and that was wall to wall, including storage lockers, cabinets, and the bed. "You have a very low opinion of my navigating ability."

Poe chuckled and gave the tour anyway. "So here to the left of the door we have hanging storage. As you'll see, you can get a dress uniform and at least one flight suit in there. I happen to know you can fit two of each if you squeeze them, but the dress uniform tends to get wrinkled that way."

He gestured at the bed. "Bed. They'll have the bigger mattress here soon. Storage underneath." He kicked the drawers. "Storage above." He patted the lockers. "Funny thing, for enlisted, you get two people in here and the other bed goes up here." He patted the lockers again, the ones they pulled out and removed to put in the other bunk bed for standard double occupancy. "So you have an extra person in here and at the same time, a lot less storage. Which is how I know you can get two sets of stuff in that closet."

"Hm." Hux looked to the right side of the room, fiddling with a horizontal piece of the wall.

"Yeah," Poe said, "that's a pull-out desk. Communication terminal there, hooks you up to the ship's system. Here's the chair cubby." He demonstrated both, folding the furniture back into the brackets designed to keep them secured and out of the way when not in use.

"Where will a larger mattress even fit in here?" Hux asked.

"The bed frame pulls out some and we'll have to fold it up when we're not using it. The mattress should roll up the wall there like the back of a couch. The rooms aren't designed for you to spend much time in here."

"I see that."

"We have break rooms and lounges for that."

"Those are public areas," Hux said.

"Yeah, they are," Poe said. Hux made that facial shrug that said he'd deal with it even if it wasn't ideal. Poe asked, "Don't people socialize in the First Order?"

"Somewhat."

Poe snorted and moved past the divider that served as the headboard of the bunk bed. "So, um, back here is a private refresher, but all you get is a sink and a commode. Showers are down the hall. If you're careful, you can sit on the commode. But, you know, watch your aim. Though come to think of it, watch your aim all the time with everything. This is arm's length from where we sleep. Pissing distance, easy, and we're the ones who have to clean it up."

"What's this?" Hux gestured at the device on the floor of the corner opposite the cabinet where the refresher components were kept.

"That's BB-8's charging station. He lives here."

"The droid lives here?" Hux sounded surprised.

"Yes," Poe said clearly, turning to face Hux. "BB-8 lives here."

Hux surveyed him, apparently getting Poe's point that this was no more negotiable than public socializing areas and the size of their quarters. "Where is … 'he' now?"

"He," Poe said in response to Hux's hesitation on using the pronoun, "is probably getting the x-wing repaired after that blasting we took on Debran. He'll be in later."

Their conversation was interrupted by a chime at the door. Hux asked, "Is that him?"

"Nah. Like I said, he lives here. He wouldn't ring the bell. He'd just come inside." Turning to the door, Poe said, "Come in." Their visitor was indeed a droid, but not BB-8. It bore the mattress they'd ordered. Poe wrangled the old one off the bed and traded with the portage droid. Hux figured out some of how to reconfigure the frame of the bed. Poe finished it and flopped the new mattress on it. Linens and a blanket had been delivered with it. Together, they made the bed.

Poe sat on the corner and kicked his boots off, then changed into his nightclothes. Hux used the refresher and some of the hygiene products he'd requisitioned from the quartermaster. The beginning of his beard was shaved away along with some of his sideburns. Poe had retired to the far side of the bed, under the covers, by the time Hux was ready to join him. Hux was quiet as he removed the clunky medical shoe and changed into bed clothes. He looked pensive.

Poe asked, "How's your throat?"

Hux's expression shuttered slightly. His tone was cool – polite and impersonal. "It's fine. What would you like me to do for you?" He made a pointed glance down Poe's body.

Poe's eyes widened as he realized the implication of his words. "What? No! That's not- I didn't mean- I wasn't asking you for a blow job!" His face heated. Poe rolled onto his stomach to bury his scandalized face in both hands. "Kriff. That's exactly what it sounded like, didn't it?"

"It did," Hux allowed. He climbed on the bed and tugged up the covers so he could get under them.

"All I intended," Poe said earnestly, "was that we should talk. But if your throat is still bothering you, then it can wait."

"I've been talking all day. Funny that you should have concern about my throat at this particular moment." Hux was smiling at him – a wicked little smile more like a smirk. "You look very embarrassed for something so supposedly innocent."

Poe rolled to his side and scrubbed at his face again. "I know it was less than a day ago that you were-"

Hux took his chin in nearly the same motion that he slid under the covers, tilting Poe's face so he could kiss him. He scooted over, pressing himself flush to Poe's side and then rolling him to his back to partly climb over him. Poe sighed out a whine. This was better than explaining himself.

Hux's right hand touched the side of his head, supporting himself on the elbow braced on Poe's pillow. Dr. Kalonia had put it in a proper brace, which meant only a few fingers of his right hand could touch Poe's hair. His left settled on Poe's hip, over the waistband of his bed clothes.

"Mm," Poe said, wanting to say more, but Hux's mouth had not left his. Hux's tongue was between Poe's lips, making a ticklish, arousing sweep that had him hard. Hux's hand flicked up the shirt, fingering the waistband, lifting it a little. "Mmm!" Poe repeated, trying to show his enthusiasm.

Hux slipped his slender fingers under the cloth, following the line of Poe's body to his erection. Poe huffed and sighed as Hux's hand wrapped around him, pumping slowly and teasingly. Finally, Hux stopped kissing him to say, "I knew you found me attractive from the moment you drank from that canteen."

Poe felt breathless. He squirmed in Hux's grip, his own hands riding the sinfully smooth skin of Hux's sides. "I was just, uh, just trying to say you were … I mean, still valuable. You weren't-" Poe found himself stumbling over his words.

Hux went on, "That despite what you knew had happened to me, you still saw me as having value as a sexual partner."

"N- that … I …" It sounded so callous, so mercenary, so self-absorbed, like he'd only saved Hux because he was hot. Which … he was hot, but it was wrong to let that factor in on any level. It hadn't, had it? Why had he even remarked on Hux's 'status', contaminated or not, if it didn't matter? Hux had sure as hells picked up on it, which wasn't surprising that someone who had been assaulted would be hypersensitive to that sort of thing. But Hux hadn't turned him down. The whole situation was ethically murky. Poe squirmed more, wondering if he was going to lose his erection. Hux was stroking him faster, so for now, the answer was no.

"All my life," Hux said, "I have wanted to be of use, to be valuable, to be wanted by someone." Hux kissed him again, pressing into him and pumping harder, gripping him firmly. He was adept enough with his left hand to give an excellent hand job. Poe arched into him, kissing him deeply, plunging his tongue into Hux's mouth and taking all of him that he could get. He was about to come. He could feel it rising inside him – shame and praise at having turned out to have done the right thing anyway. Hux breathed into his ear, "The Order didn't want me. You did."

Poe hugged Hux to him as he came, ejaculate soiling the inside of his underwear. Hux nuzzled his neck, licking and then kissing the tender skin behind and under his ear. Poe panted raggedly as he regained his senses. Hux moved on to planting chaste kisses along Poe's cheek. Poe looked at him dazedly.

"You wanted me against you that night," Hux said, rolling onto his back. Poe followed him, reversing their positions. Poe palmed Hux's crotch, gently at first. He was hard. Poe hadn't been sure. Now that he was, he slid his hand inside Hux's underwear. "You wanted me." Hux rolled his hips as Poe skimmed his fingertips up and down the satiny skin of Hux's dick. Hux said, "There were so many other ways to share warmth." Hux grinned at him.

"You got me there," Poe admitted. He settled into a loose grip, pumping regularly. Hux opened his mouth as though to speak further, then leaned up to kiss him again. Poe made it passionate, pressing him back into his pillow and devouring his mouth. His hand worked faster, but he kept his grip loose. For one thing, Hux's hips kept bucking into him unevenly, like he'd never had a hand job from someone else. They'd talk about coordinating later. For now, Poe simply adjusted to it.

Hux was mewling much as he had when Poe had first kissed him – faint whines and huffs and choked, yearning noises that quickly culminated in a series of gasps that presaged his orgasm. Hux's fingers fumbled at Poe's shoulders, embracing him as he caught his breath after. Poe pulled his hand out and wiped it on his own pajama pant leg. They both needed a change, but they could do that later when Hux wasn't trembling and holding him and making snuffling noises on his neck.

Poe caressed him with his clean hand. "You think it's too early for me to say, 'I love you'?"

"Yes," Hux said in a defiant, definite tone, ruining it by sniffing wetly and swallowing.

"Okay." Poe kissed his forehead, adding in a teasing tone, "Then I won't. Not yet. But soon." Hux released him and nudged him away, turning his face as though to conceal it. Poe rolled onto his back, boneless and relaxed. "That was good." Hux looked at him. Poe rolled his head to face him, but Hux looked away again quickly and wiped at his eyes. Poe touched his arm lightly. "Was that good?" he asked with concern.

Hux nodded and rolled to him, hugging him. "Yes, it was," he whispered.

---

Epilogue

A year later, the new provisional galactic government was still getting organized in the wake of the ending of the war. Bureaucracy was slow, but luckily neither Poe nor Hux had to take much part in it. They left those matters to others. Rey and Ben had likewise stepped off center stage, retiring to Naboo with Ben's mother, crowned regents or whatever the Nabooian title was.

The First Order had turned into what it always had been meant to be (according to Hux, whom Poe did not credit as a reliable source for the information, but he did allow that Hux believed it), which was the galactic military. Poe would have liked to have seen most of it dissolved and dismantled, and that was certainly a possible future for it, but for the present there was still too much unrest to simply demilitarize as abruptly as the New Republic had under Mon Mothma. Even Poe admitted this.

Instead, he was training TIE pilots, which was what he'd never imagined for himself as a career choice. This too, might change eventually. But what he didn't expect to change was living the good life in General Hux's posh quarters on the Finalizer. He joked with Hux that he was a kept man, a war trophy, and whatever other outrageous and patently untrue but sexy thing Poe could come up with. Hux had long since learned to go along with Poe's sense of humor, but Poe loved how much it startled the stuffy First Order officers who'd never heard that sort of thing before.

Hux had been offered promotion, but the incident on Debran had killed his ambition. It had changed him and what he wanted from life. He wanted Poe's love and to be treated gently in their private time, to know his feelings and consent mattered. They still bickered (mostly in public, mostly for show, and never mean-spiritedly), but Poe found him easy to love.