Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Good job,” Hux says and Kylo’s little omega heart trembles.

He can’t show it. It’s enough that his omega status is widely known; he can’t ruin his reputation any further. Maintaining the image of a ruthless force has been hard enough when every three months he turns into a feverish, lonely mess, ready to follow any alpha for the slim promise of some off-hand praise.

Which is exactly what Hux is giving him now, and for such a minor thing, a riskless mission to retrieve an ancient artifact from an abandoned temple, something Hux shouldn’t even have any interest in.

But here he is, standing before Kylo with the thin beginnings of a smile at the corners of his mouth, as if Kylo’s presence pleases him, as if he really thinks Kylo’s good enough—unlike everyone else in Kylo’s life.

“It was nothing,” Kylo says, voice dulled by his helmet, betraying no sign of the emotions screaming inside him.

Hux purses his lips, and Kylo wants to take his words back, to cut his tongue out, anything to gain Hux’s approval again.

“Well,” Hux says, his steel eyes almost warm. “Good job anyway.”

He doesn’t wait for Kylo to react, just turns around and leaves the hangar, which is a good thing because another moment and Kylo would have dropped to his knees, prostrating himself in gratitude for the three simple words.

The fucked-up thing is that he doesn’t even like Hux. Kylo’s been on the Finalizer for about seven months, and all this time, the alpha has only spoken to him when absolutely necessary, keeping himself aloof, his gaze always calculating, as if he’s been watching Kylo from a distance and deeming him unworthy of getting any closer.

Him coming down to the hangar to meet Kylo returning from a routine mission is, therefore, a stunning occurrence, and Kylo is properly stunned. As much as he prides himself on not being ruled by his secondary gender qualities, his omega mind is racing, looking for explanations that will tickle it the way it longs for.

Though he’ll never admit it, he’s been searching for a strong alpha to give his life purpose and direction since he was a child. At first, he thought his father would be the one to explain to Kylo how to live, but Han was never there, and soon, Snoke’s voice slithered into Kylo’s head, guiding him the way only an alpha could. Kylo almost strayed from him once, swayed by the confident power of Ren, the former Master of the Knights, but even that man couldn’t compare with Snoke’s persuasiveness.

Except Snoke never praised Kylo, no matter what Kylo did. His efforts have always been insufficient, with more training to do, more enlightenment to achieve. As strong as he is with the Force, Snoke remains stronger, and the student is yet to beat his master.

Hux’s words stick in Kylo’s head. The young Colonel isn’t known for being generous with praise; he’s running the Finalizer with a durasteel fist, just but demanding, and almost everyone fails to meet his standards. Kylo himself keeps to the shadows, maintaining a menacing presence which scares the crew into obedience, not that Kylo has much to ask of them.

All he needs is a room to sleep, some nutrients to consume, and a voice in his ears telling him what to do, to keep him from being lost.

Morbidly eager to find out whether Hux’s kindness was a one-off glitch, Kylo joins the next Finalizer Command meeting for the first time. Technically, he’s supposed to attend all of them, as co-commander, but Snoke never ordered him to, and he himself never cared enough to go.

He slinks into the room after everyone is already there, gliding in the shadows to stand at the far wall, arms crossed, his mask turning his breath heavy.

“Ren,” Hux says because of course he notices Kylo. “Thank you for joining us.”

He sounds sincere, too.

Everyone else looks at Kylo with varying degrees of unease. Kylo waves his hand, as if he’s giving them permission to proceed. Hux’s eyes glint, fixed on him, and Kylo isn’t sure but for a second, he thinks he saw Hux’s mouth quirk.

“What’s on the agenda, Lieutenant?” Hux asks a young dark-haired beta, whose name Kylo never deemed important enough to remember.

The Lieutenant rattles off a list of points, most of which sound deathly boring to Kylo. Stormtrooper rations. Upgrades for cleaning droids. Training room repairs—alright, that one is on him.

“Titanium plating,” Kylo says when they reach that third point, cutting off whoever it was who was talking—he didn’t pay enough attention.

The room goes still. Everyone looks at him, then at Hux, as if expecting the alpha to deal with this aberrantly powerful omega.

“I’m sorry?” Hux says, opening the floor to Kylo, which is more than Kylo expected.

He gulps behind the safety of his helmet and crosses his arms a bit tighter over his chest.

“Reinforce the training rooms.” His voice is low, hollow, nothing like a sweet omega lilt. “Less repairing needed.”

The officers before him fill the air with distress. He can read it in their minds, smell it wafting from them, potent enough to pass through the air filters in his mask. Alphas mostly, a few betas, they don’t understand how an omega can intimidate them like this, with just his presence.

Hux taps the table before him, and everyone’s attention snaps to him.

“An excellent suggestion, Ren.” There it is again, a slight quirk of his mouth, and Kylo’s tongue sticks to his teeth. “We’ll do just that.”

The rest of the meeting passes in a haze. Kylo watches Hux mediate arguments, bringing order to the chaos of a room full of different opinions, but he doesn’t hear a word. His eyes never leave Hux, waiting to see if he praises anyone else. It doesn’t happen. Hux remains polite but stern with everyone, his tone full of steel, reminding the other officers in the room that he’s the dominant alpha in this group, no matter his rank or age.

It’s a fascinating sight.

Kylo attends the next meeting. And the one after that.

“We need to increase our supplies of iron,” Hux says, bringing up graphs from his datapad.

Kylo has no use for the graphs. He hears iron, so he speaks.

“Elphrona.” The planet where he killed a friend who wasn’t a friend anymore. It stirs up memories. The memories don’t matter. “We could mine its iron hills.”

Hux swipes the graphs away, his eyes piercing through Kylo’s mask. Kylo has no doubt that Hux can see him, can see his face turn red, his lips tremble.

“Let’s see,” Hux says, tapping on his datapad. “It’s near the Unknown Regions, correct?”

“Yes.”

It should be accessible to the Order, and Kylo doubts the locals would put up much of a fight. Even if they do, he’ll have no trouble subduing them.

Hux lifts his eyes and Kylo is almost knocked over by their unusual warmth.

“Wonderful.” For a moment, Kylo thinks Hux is going to come up and pat him on the head. “Thank you, Ren. Your expertise will bring prosperity to the Order.”

It doesn’t make any sense.

After the meeting ends, Kylo waits for everyone to leave, knowing that Hux will linger with Captain Opan, a silent omega with dull eyes. Opan irritates Kylo. He’s always having private conversations with Hux, and stars only know what they talk about. His mind is a blank sheet, never showing sign of any emotion, never betraying a single thought.

Hux looks at Kylo, still loitering by the far wall, and leans toward Captain Opan to murmur something in his ear. Kylo almost ignites his lightsaber to get rid of the man once and for all.

Before he can do something irrevocable, the Captain strides out of the room, lips pinched, and Hux clears his throat, claiming Kylo’s attention.

“Yes, Ren?” he asks pleasantly.

Words escape Kylo.

“Why?” he asks, the only thing he can think of.

Hux’s face doesn’t waver.

“Why what?”

Kylo strides toward Hux, cornering him by the table. Hux’s expression remains pleasant.

“You never liked me,” Kylo says, and is immediately embarrassed by how childish he sounds.

“We’re co-commanders,” Hux says, as if it explains everything. “Of course, I’ve always held you in high esteem.”

Kylo doesn’t remember any examples of that, but he’s not an expert on what Hux feels—Hux is.

“Oh.” He takes a step back, lost in the near-empty room. “Well.”

“I’m glad we’re working together productively,” Hux fills the awkward silence, tugging off his glove and offering his hand to Kylo.

His long fingers mesmerize Kylo, and so does his slender wrist with its delicate curve and pale skin. He almost forgets to accept Hux’s handshake.

The touch of Hux’s skin against his sends a shiver through his body, and his omega brain suddenly urges him to lie on his back and spread his legs for this strong, powerful alpha.

It’s a good thing he’s nowhere near his heat.

As they put their gloves back on, Hux smiles at Kylo, a thin, polite thing, but with an underlying warmth mirrored by a wave of satisfaction that Kylo skims from Hux’s mind.

“I hope we continue to be a good team,” Hux says with a nod and walks out of the room, tapping on his datapad as he goes.

He’s always so busy, and yet he found a moment to be nice to Kylo. It’s as intoxicating as it is incomprehensible.

Kylo floats from the meeting room to his own quarters, turning this encounter with Hux over in his mind and coming to no conclusions. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but so far, he likes it.

Someone values him, which is, first, refreshing; second, long overdue.

***

Kylo has been in Hux’s office before. This summons is nothing out of the ordinary. As co-commanders, they have a lot of important things to talk about, even if they rarely do, and Hux wanting to see Kylo is just business as usual, no need to read things into it that Hux, obviously, cannot mean.

Still, Kylo walks through the Finalizer corridors a little bit faster than usual, eager to be in the same room with Hux, to see him up close, to study his red hair and gray-green eyes, absolved from suspicion by the protection of his mask.

“You called,” he says as he enters Hux’s office, the vocoder filtering the excitement out of his voice.

Hux looks up from his datapad, his mouth quirking in a half-smile.

“Please sit,” he invites, gesturing at the chair on the other side of his desk from him. “I just need to finish this report.”

Kylo does as he’s told, his heart beating hard in his chest. He’s so close to Hux, he can smell the confident woody scent of the alpha, mild at this time of his hormonal cycle but wonderfully distinct.

Sweat starts beading at the back of Kylo’s neck, and he tugs on his collar, trying to loosen it.

Hux pushes his datapad away and turns his eyes on Kylo, his face assuming proper business blankness, and Kylo longs for the fleeting half-smile.

“You are familiar with our training sims, aren’t you, Ren?”

A few weeks ago, Kylo would have thought the question insulting. Now, though, he knows Hux means well.

“I’ve used them myself,” he confirms. A bead of sweat rolls down his face under the mask.

“Excellent.” Hux steeples his fingers. “At the last Command meeting, you mentioned rumors about some Force users, correct?”

Once again, the galaxy is buzzing with gossip about Luke Skywalker being alive and hiding somewhere, possibly training new Jedi to destroy the First Order. This happens every half a year or so, and Kylo strongly suspects it’s his mother spreading lies to intimidate her perceived enemies—that is, him and his new community.

“Those are just rumors,” he says, his palms going moist inside his gloves.

Hux drops his hands and taps his fingers on the duraglass surface of his desk.

“Still. It would be prudent to address them. We should modify the sims to accommodate for this type of threat.”

Kylo wants to argue that this is unnecessary, but he can barely think as the temperature in the room seems to grow higher and higher. He tugs on his collar again.

“Isn’t it too hot in here?” He glances around for a thermostat, but the controls must be built into Hux’s desk.

“The temperature is perfectly normal,” Hux says, although Kylo doesn’t see him checking any sensors.

Maybe something’s wrong with Kylo’s hormones, but he can’t bear it anymore. A few more minutes and he’ll suffocate.

He takes off his helmet, his hair sticking to his face. The recirculated air isn’t exactly fresh, but it’s much better than the stuffiness of the mask.

As he takes a few deep breaths, he notices Hux staring at him, his mouth slightly open. His eyes have a strange shine to them.

No one has ever looked at Kylo like that. Not even Tai when the beta awkwardly tried to kiss the dark voice out of Kylo’s mind.

“You really shouldn’t hide such a handsome face behind a mask.” Hux sounds like he isn’t quite controlling what he’s saying, too awed to care.

Kylo is too awed to care, too.

He throws his hand up, lifting Hux from his seat and dragging him over the desk until Kylo can crash his lips into his. The alpha tastes like cold water and steel, and his smell intensifies in response to Kylo’s tongue thrusting into his mouth. It’s a wild kiss, teetering on the wrong side of rude, dangerously close to assault.

Weirdly, though, Hux isn’t trying to kill Kylo, at least not yet. Kylo knows about the knife hidden in Hux’s sleeve, and he isn’t holding Hux’s arms down, which means Hux could easily slice Kylo’s throat if he wanted to.

Kylo probably wouldn’t even mind.

The insanity lasts for just a few hot, dizzying seconds before Kylo’s brain catches up with his body.

He pulls away, expecting punishment, but Hux is just staring at him, his face torturously unreadable.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” Kylo waits for Hux to tell him that his apologies mean nothing, that he should know better, that he’s done an unforgivable thing and shouldn’t expect mercy.

Instead, Hux puts a hand on Kylo’s cheek.

“It’s quite alright,” he says, no trace of anger in his cadence.

“I—” Kylo looks down, trying to see where Hux’s fingers are stroking his face. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Hux leans forward to place a gentle kiss on Kylo’s lips, a reassurance that Kylo probably doesn’t deserve.

“Do you think you can let go of me now?” Hux murmurs against Kylo’s mouth, and Kylo remembers he’s still holding Hux over the desk.

He removes the Force grip too quickly, dropping Hux onto the duraglass surface, but even this doesn’t trigger Hux’s fury. The Colonel simply pushes himself off the desk and stands upright, smoothing out his uniform.

Kylo wants to rip that uniform off him.

“Well,” Hux says, while Kylo gets lost in his fantasies. “This has been informative, if not exactly productive.” He glances down at his datapad, still waiting for Kylo’s input on some important issue they were supposed to discuss.

Kylo stumbles backwards, blood pounding in his ears.

“I need—” He needs Hux in his arms, that’s the only thing he knows right now. “I have to—” He has to get control of himself, manage his impulses, not succumb to them. “I—” He is making a fool of himself.

Before Hux can laugh at his stuttering, Kylo whirls around and all but runs out of the room, bringing a decisive end to their meeting.

As he stalks toward his quarters, Hux’s words ring in his mind.

Hux thinks he’s handsome. Hux is also disappointed in him.

Kylo doesn’t know what to feel, so he feels everything at once.

Passing a trash compactor chute, he throws his mask down it. Hux doesn’t want it, and so Kylo doesn’t want it either.

In his room, he grabs Darth Vader’s helmet and pushes a question at him through the Force, seeking guidance from the strongest alpha in his bloodline.

“Is this love, grandfather?”

He gets no answer.

***

With his heat fast approaching, Kylo packs for his regular sojourn on the Night Buzzard, where one of the alpha Knights will take care of him—whoever is currently available. It’s not like Kylo has a preference.

He checks his bag for birth control pills and spare underwear, thinks briefly of Hux, shakes his head, and deems himself ready. They haven’t had a chance to talk since that wild kiss, which might be for the best.

No use dreaming about the impossible, even if it seemed so real for a moment.

Bag in hand, Kylo opens the door to his quarters, only to find Hux standing there, reaching for the lock with his code cylinder.

Kylo’s mouth dries.

“You,” he croaks, not quite sure what exactly he means.

Hux looks him up and down, and Kylo shivers under his piercing scrutiny.

“Ren.” It’s impossible to tell if Hux is glad or upset. The way he says Kylo’s name could mean anything, and Kylo doesn’t know whether he should step back or forward.

Swallowing, he grips the bag strap tighter.

“Did you want something?” he asks, sharp to the point of rude. His skin is already hot.

“You,” Hux says simply as he puts the code cylinder back in his pocket. “You’re going into heat, aren’t you?”

Kylo feels the first hints of wetness between his legs.

“How did you know?”

“I have access to your health data. As your co-commander.”

This can’t be right. Only medical personnel should have access, and Kylo wants to call Hux out on that, but Hux takes a step forward, the scent of smoked wood and leather overwhelming Kylo’s senses.

“Hux,” he mutters, either a plea or a warning, he doesn’t know which.

“Shh.”

Normally, Kylo would be outraged. Right now, his dick is already filling.

Hux cups Kylo’s face and kisses him, hard and oppressive. He moves forward, making Kylo step back into his room.

“I’m not letting anyone else touch you,” Hux growls in that possessive voice only alphas are capable of, and Kylo’s head spins.

He drops his bag, hands clutching at Hux’s shoulders as Hux walks them all the way to Kylo’s bed.

They paw at each other’s clothes, pulling and pushing and tearing until they are both naked, standing chest to chest with their hard cocks almost touching. Hux’s eyes hold fire, and Kylo realizes he’s never felt wanted, not like this. Spending heats with the Knights has always been perfunctory, impersonal, an arrangement born out of necessity, bland and emotionless.

Now, Hux is kissing him again with a passion Kylo didn’t know could exist.

“Fuck me,” he says, and this time it’s definitely a plea.

Hux just smiles.

They tangle together on Kylo’s black sheets, slick dripping everywhere, Hux’s cock plunging in and out of Kylo’s body. Kylo bites the pillow while Hux pounds him from behind, filling him the exact way his omega body craves.

Usually, heats are a humiliating experience, but this time, it’s glorious.

Maybe this is what it feels like when one finds one’s mate.

Hux’s knot inflates inside Kylo as he comes, and Kylo is hit with his own orgasm, the best in his life. Panting, they collapse on their sides, Hux gathering Kylo into his arms, encircling him protectively, like the alpha of Kylo’s dreams.

“How are you feeling?” Hux asks, nuzzling Kylo’s scent gland.

More than anything else, Kylo wants to ask Hux to bite.

“Good,” he says, a criminal understatement.

Hux kisses the vertebrae at the back of Kylo’s neck.

“You don’t need your Knights anymore.” Hux’s fingers tap at Kylo’s abs.

Knot-drunk, Kylo can’t help but agree.

“Fuck them,” he mutters, shifting back, trying to merge with Hux’s body.

“Good boy,” Hux whispers, and Kylo’s entire body shakes.

“I don’t need any other alphas,” he blurts out, hands grasping at Hux’s. “Just you.”

“Yes.” Hux squeezes Kylo’s fingers in his.

Kylo’s entire mind is occupied by Hux. From this point onward, no one else will ever have a place in Kylo’s heart. He’s ready to hand himself over to Hux and be his forever, no matter what.

Hux’s knot deflates, his cock slipping out of Kylo’s body, and Kylo wants it back immediately. He squirms, rubbing his ass against Hux’s groin, delighted when Hux grabs his hips and slides into him again.

They fuck a few more times until Hux convinces Kylo that he needs food as well as sleep, if only to fuel more sex. Kylo doesn’t remember anyone taking care of him like that. Even his parents would forget to feed him, too busy with their own lives.

“Why are you not on suppressants?” Hux asks as Kylo finishes a ration bar. “Not that I mind.”

That’s right, Hux doesn’t mind so many things about Kylo, including his volatile omega body.

“I was, in the Aca—” Kylo almost bites his tongue. “In my past life.”

Hux ghosts his fingers over Kylo’s shoulder, a tender nudge to continue.

“Master forbids them,” Kylo says, swiping the ration bar packaging off the bed. “He says I must follow my impulses, not suppress them.”

“I see.” Hux weaves his arm around Kylo’s waist and pulls him closer. “Would you like to go on suppressants?”

Bold, Kylo kisses him. Hux kisses back until they’re both panting.

“Not if it means I can’t have this again,” Kylo says, tackling Hux onto the bed and climbing over him until he’s straddling Hux’s hips.

“Good answer.” Hux grins, and Kylo wants to fuck him forever.

Slick drips out of him as he lowers himself on Hux’s cock, biting his lip to contain the absolutely filthy moan that threatens to fly out of his mouth. He’s had bigger cocks in him, but he’s never felt so perfectly full, so completely filled.

Hux grabs Kylo’s ass, pushing up into him, and Kylo follows his lead, letting Hux fuck him from below, his own position on top purely logistical.

On the second day of their sex marathon, Kylo remembers something important.

“Who’s in charge of the bridge?” he asks, craning his neck to look at Hux, dozing off behind him.

“Now you remember that you co-command this ship,” Hux mutters, amused.

“So?” Kylo tries to turn around, but Hux’s knot is still in him, fixing him in place.

“Captains Peavey and Phasma are sharing command in my absence.” Hux pats Kylo’s side. “Go back to sleep.”

“You left the bridge just to—” Kylo can’t finish the sentence. It’s too much. He can’t even think about it.

Hux presses a kiss to Kylo’s neck.

“Yes, Ren.” He licks Kylo’s scent gland. “I left my bridge for you.”

Kylo’s shoulders start to tremble. His mother couldn’t leave her fight for him. His father couldn’t leave his smuggling for him. His uncle couldn’t leave his superstitions for him.

No one’s ever chosen him over something else.

“Are you crying?” Hux asks, and Kylo strains his ears for a sign of disgust in Hux’s voice.

There’s none.

“No,” Kylo lies anyway, suppressing a sob.

“Mm.”

Hux buries his nose in the crook of Kylo’s neck and wraps his arms around Kylo’s waist. Tears fall from Kylo’s eyes onto the pillow while he fights himself to stop them. It’s his omega body again, too needy, too emotional.

He’s still crying when Hux’s knot shrinks down. Carefully, Hux pulls on his shoulder until Kylo turns around, hopeful and terrified at the same time.

This is the real him, weak and pathetic, brimming with feelings that he can neither control nor exploit. Now Hux will see him, will walk away from him, will leave him alone again.

Hux leans in and kisses the traces of tears off Kylo’s cheeks. His thumbs brush Kylo’s cheekbones, his leg slides between Kylo’s. Stunned, Kylo touches the surface of Hux’s mind but finds it pleased instead of repulsed.

Not knowing what else to do, Kylo almost headbutts Hux in his hurry to snatch Hux’s lips with his. Hux chuckles, and Kylo freezes, afraid he’s ruined everything, but then Hux is kissing him, and then Hux is fucking him, and everything is right again.

As Kylo’s heat dissipates at the end of their third day together, they lie on the bed in a lazy sprawl, Kylo’s head resting on Hux’s chest, arm thrown around Hux’s body. He doesn’t think he’ll ever let go.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, even though it sounds inadequate.

Hux rubs his shoulder.

“What for?”

More things than Kylo can name.

“For a good fuck,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have the words for the truth anyway.

Hux gives a short laugh.

“My pleasure, Ren.”

Kylo hugs him tighter.

“I want to do something for you.” He needs to. It’s an imperative that burns his bones. “So we’re even,” he adds, lest Hux think him too sentimental.

Hux stays silent for a few moments. Perhaps Kylo said the wrong thing. He picks at the surface of Hux’s mind, trying to find out how much damage he’s done, but Hux radiates contentment and nothing else.

“Would you kill my father for me?” he asks at last, as he plays with Kylo’s hair.

“I would kill my own father for you,” Kylo says before he even realizes how true it is.

The feeling of contentment flowing from Hux intensifies.

“That can wait,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand behind Kylo’s ear.

It doesn’t matter what Hux says next. Kylo will do anything for him. He will become anything for him.

From this point onward, everything he does, he’s doing it for Hux.

Chapter Text

Brendol Hux’s mind stinks of undeserved pride and festering superiority. If Hux hadn’t asked Kylo specifically not to make a scene, Kylo would have slashed the Commandant to pieces as soon as he stepped off his shuttle.

“Welcome to the Absolution, Lord Ren,” Brendol greets him, his chest puffed.

He thinks Kylo’s visit is an indication of Snoke’s respect for the Commandant. Why, the Supreme Leader’s apprentice making the long journey from one Star Destroyer to another, just to witness Brendol’s achievements with his own eyes? His status in the First Order must be growing, the old skunk believes, it’s written all over his thoughts in neon letters.

Kylo walks across the hangar and passes Brendol without so much as nodding at him.

“I believe you are already using the new sims?” he asks, turning every word into a threat.

“Of course.” Brendol hurries to catch up with him. “The ones you designed to accommodate for possible Force users among the enemy, Lord Ren.”

“We designed,” Kylo corrects him. “Colonel Hux and I.”

Brendol’s face twists at the mention of his son.

“This way to the training rooms, Lord Ren.” He indicates a turn, but Kylo doesn’t follow.

“We will convene in your office.” No point in lingering here. It’s not like Kylo actually wants a tour.

Brendol’s eyes dart around the corridor for a moment as he adjusts to the visitor’s blatant dismissal of his plans. Kylo can feel licks of anger clouding the Commandant’s mind, but Brendol quickly pulls himself together, years of discipline taking over.

“To the turbolifts, then.” He gives Kylo a short, fake smile that looks uglier than his resting face.

As Brendol opens the door to his office, Kylo almost gags from the unforgivable opulence of the room. Furniture made of actual wood, drapes that look like Onderon silk, gold plating on the fucking ceiling. This alone warrants doing away with this man.

“Do you want to talk statistics?” Brendol asks, moving across the room to a table overflowing with bottles. He pours two glasses of some brown liquid, filling the room with the stench of alcohol. “Or would you prefer to watch the recordings?”

Brendol offers him one of the glasses and Kylo slaps his hand away, the glass falling to the floor and shattering. The puddle of alcohol reaches Kylo’s boot, and he shifts his foot away in disgust.

“Not a drinker, huh?” Brendol manages a weak chuckle, but his Force signature turns fearful.

It’s best to get this over with.

Kylo raises a hand and throws Brendol into the opposite wall. He drops his drink, more sharp fragments of glass littering the floor. His body collapses as he tries to catch his breath after hitting hard durasteel.

“Lord Ren,” he wheezes, lifting his head to look at Kylo in confusion. “What are you—”

“Shut up, dog.” Kylo walks toward Brendol, glass crunching under his boots.

For a second, Brendol’s eyes widen in surprise, then his shoulders slump and he shakes his head.

“I see,” he mutters, starting to laugh. It’s an ugly sound. “Armitage sent you, didn’t he? My, the boy is moving up in the world.”

It’s Kylo’s turn to blink in confusion.

“How did you know?” He’s standing right over Brendol now, forcing the man to look up at him.

“Please.” Brendol laughs again. “You aren’t the first one. You aren’t even the first omega.”

Tritt Opan. That fucking snake.

“I’ll be the last,” Kylo promises, wrapping Force tendrils around Brendol’s heart.

“Wait,” Brendol pants, some of his bluster fading. “How much do you want? I can give you anything.”

Is that why he’s still alive? Did Opan accept a kriffing bribe, selling his loyalty to Hux like it means nothing?

It doesn’t matter.

“You can’t give me more than I already have.” Kylo tightens the Force grip.

“Tell Armitage,” Brendol says, clutching his chest, his face contorting in pain, “he’ll always be a useless pup.”

Kylo snaps his fingers and Brendol’s heart stops.

“He’s worth more than your entire ship,” he hisses, even though there’s no one left to hear him.

Kylo tells the medics that Brendol Hux had a heart attack, which doesn’t surprise anyone, considering the Commandant’s indulgent lifestyle. Sympathy is offered to Kylo for having to witness the man’s death, as if his tender omega sensibilities ought to be shaken by it, never mind all the combat he’s been in.

“I’ve seen worse,” he says tersely, barely refraining from more murder or, at least, some dismemberment.

Back on the Finalizer, he rushes to report his success to Hux, who listens to him impassively, his hands folded over his duraglass desk.

“Did he say anything?” Hux asks, his face unreadable.

Kylo flushes.

“I don’t want to repeat it.”

Hux narrows his eyes.

“Please do.” It’s an order, and Kylo knows it.

“He—” The words sting Kylo’s tongue. “He said you’ll always be a useless pup.”

Hux balls his hands into fists over the desk.

“You were supposed to kill him,” he says, sharp and cold, “not record his last words.”

“But,” Kylo mumbles, “but you asked—”

Hux stops him with a glare.

“At least you did the job.” He taps something on his datapad. “Now go. I have a meeting.”

A hint of old anger flares in Kylo.

“You can’t just throw me—”

The door behind him swishes open. He whirls around, coming face to face with Tritt Opan.

“Come on in, Captain,” Hux says pleasantly, while Kylo fights the urge to propel the man back out the door. “Lord Ren was just leaving.”

Kylo wishes he still had the mask. His face feels bare without it, too vulnerable, too exposed. He doesn’t want Opan to witness the fury and guilt fighting on his features, so he does as Hux tells him, stomping heavily on the durasteel floor.

The last thing he hears before the door closes behind him is Hux addressing Opan by his first name with a sweetness that makes Kylo’s heart rot in his chest.

***

Gamma shift rolls over the Finalizer, dimming the lights and hushing the conversations. Too restless to sleep, Kylo paces around his room, turning the meeting with Hux over and over in his head. He shouldn’t have repeated what Brendol Hux said about his son. Why would he think Hux wanted to hear such a horrible insult? He clearly misunderstood what Hux meant. If only he could go back in time and keep his stupid mouth shut.

“Have… have I screwed it all up?” he asks his grandfather’s mask. It has no insights for him

The door chimes, and Kylo is by it in a second. Not many people visit his quarters, especially not during gamma shift. He prays that he’s right about who his visitor is.

“Ren,” Hux greets him as soon as Kylo opens the door.

Kylo’s words are smothered by Hux’s lips, and they stumble inside in a tight embrace. The door closes automatically, not that Kylo cares.

“Did you—” he mutters between kisses, “forgive me?”

Hux pulls away, eyes widening.

“Whatever for?”

Kylo clutches at his upper arms.

“You were angry with me.”

Hux presses a soft kiss to Kylo’s cheek.

“I was never angry with you.”

Before Kylo can say anything else, Hux shoves him toward the bed, and all words fly out of Kylo’s head.

He uses the Force to help them out of their clothes, undoing the clasps on Hux’s jacket and the ties on his robes with swift, precise movements.

“So powerful,” Hux murmurs, and Kylo’s cock springs up in an instant.

“Tell me more,” he begs as he spreads his legs, letting Hux settle between his thighs.

“My beautiful boy,” Hux says obligingly, running his fingers up and down Kylo’s leaking cock.

“More,” Kylo whispers, his skin hot as if he’s in heat.

Hux licks the tip of Kylo’s cock.

“My loyal knight,” he murmurs, his lips touching Kylo’s sensitive skin.

Dizzy, Kylo reaches out to grab Hux’s hair.

“More!” he shouts, his body spinning out of control faster than he can understand what is happening.

Hux mouths at the head of Kylo’s cock, nibbling delicately.

“My perfect omega.”

Kylo shouldn’t like it. He isn’t supposed to be anyone’s omega. His secondary gender is something to transcend, not submit to.

And yet hearing it from Hux doesn’t feel like submission; it feels like finally finding a place to belong.

“Yours,” is the last coherent thing Kylo says before Hux descends on his cock, skilled and ravenous, his tongue making Kylo feel things he’s never felt before.

Kylo’s had sex outside his heats before, but it never led to orgasms as mind-blowing as the one Hux’s mouth wrings out of him. He can barely remember his own name while waves of pleasure are splashing through his body.

“That was—” He has to catch his breath. “You are—”

“I know,” Hux says with a smug smirk as he climbs up the bed to tuck Kylo into the crook of his arm.

Kylo clings to him like Hux’s embrace is the only place where he knows how to be, like it’s the only place where he can be himself.

Hux stays with him through the entire gamma shift, and Kylo dreams of good, happy things, surrounded by the alpha’s smoky scent. It’s the most restful sleep he’s had, maybe in his entire life.

As alpha shift nears, Hux nudges Kylo awake, pressing light kisses to the top of his head.

“Morning, beautiful,” Hux says, and Kylo immediately feels invincible. He lunges up, intent on kissing Hux, but Hux presses his palm to Kylo’s chest, stopping him. “Brush your teeth first.”

Eager not to waste time, Kylo slides out of the bed and pads to the refresher, grabbing his toothbrush. As he scrubs it over his teeth, Hux comes to lean against the doorway behind him, his reflection clear in the mirror hanging in front of Kylo.

“Say,” Hux drawls, looking at his nails. “How well do you know Captain Opan?”

Kylo’s hand stops, the toothbrush hovering between his teeth.

“Not well,” he mumbles through the foam in his mouth.

Hux stretches his arm, squinting at his fingertips.

“The man knows too much. He’s becoming an inconvenience.”

A bit of foam falls from Kylo’s lips into the sink.

“Knows what?” he asks, and Hux looks up at him, eyes cruel and cold.

“Do I need to explain myself to you?” Every word is clipped, sharp enough to cut through Kylo’s skin.

Kylo spits out the foam and wipes his mouth with his hand.

“No. Sorry.” He catches himself before he calls Hux ‘sir.’

“Good.” Hux turns to exit the refresher. “Get rid of him before I see you again,” he orders and walks away.

The door shuts behind him before Kylo has the chance to question his new order.

***

Opan, of course, doesn’t believe anything Kylo’s saying.

“I’m a Captain,” he says, pointing at his insignia, as if Kylo weren’t aware of this very obvious fact. “I don’t do maintenance work.”

“It’s important that you oversee the turret repairs,” Kylo insists. “You are the only person Colonel Hux trusts.” Saying this hurts, but Kylo comforts himself by reminding himself it’s a flagrant lie.

“Oh?” Opan purses his lips. “Did he tell you that himself?”

“Just get into the suit.” Kylo points at the spacewalk gear in the corridor leading to the airlock.

Opan gives him a long look with something like pity swirling at the bottom.

“You know he’ll grow tired of you, too?”

Kylo’s jaw tightens.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“One day,” Opan says, making no move for the spacesuit, “he’ll ask something of you, and you’ll say no. Any idea what he’ll do then?” When Kylo doesn’t respond, Opan grins. “He’ll find a new me.”

“Suit,” Kylo says curtly, shoving Opan toward the thing with the Force.

“Hah.” The man stumbles, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Whoever you think you are, Kylo Ren, you’re nothing to him. Believe me,” he adds, and there’s something sad in the way his face twists. “I was there first.”

Kylo doesn’t need to listen to this. He swings the airlock door open and pushes Opan inside, dragging his body with the Force like he’s nothing.

“See you in hell, Kylo Ren,” Opan says, still grinning, as Kylo blows him into space.

The Captain’s body floats slowly away, his face frozen in an awful grimace, and Kylo stands there for a long time, watching him.

“You’re wrong,” he tells the corpse, the stars, the empty space between them. “I’ll never say no to him.”

***

They take things slower when Kylo’s next heat comes.

Hux is at his door before Kylo can even comm him about experiencing the first signs. He must have checked Kylo’s health data, and once again, Kylo is too busy being in love with him to worry about this breach of privacy.

After all, he’s the one benefitting from it, isn’t he?

He tugs Hux into his rooms, letting loose the Force tendrils, which pick at the clasps keeping Hux’s jacket in place.

“Impatient,” Hux says, and Kylo flinches, afraid that it’s a reproach, before he realizes Hux’s tone is appreciative.

“Want you,” he explains, rushed and hot.

Hux’s lips touch his, their clean-water taste spreading through Kylo like a cool breeze. He could kiss Hux forever, just stand there, hands gripping Hux’s bare shoulders, chests touching, tongues twining together.

His body, however, demands more, and a thin trickle of slick runs down his inner thigh, soaking his underwear. Clumsily, he discards his clothes, not caring when seams rip. Getting new robes is easy; waiting another second until he can feel Hux against his bare skin is impossible.

“Shhh,” Hux whispers, taking Kylo’s hands in his. “There’s no hurry.”

“But I need you,” Kylo almost whines, his body screaming for Hux’s knot.

Hux kisses the tip of his nose.

“Of course you do,” he murmurs, and his Force signature emanates joy.

Kylo’s heart fills with joy, too.

To be wanted, isn’t it all he’s ever sought in his life? And Hux wants him, there’s no doubt in that, not with the way his pupils dilate, or his breath catches, or his cock fills up.

Hux is here for him, as if Kylo is the most important thing in his world.

Maybe even more important than the First Order itself.

The thought makes Kylo shiver.

He’s never felt truly valued until Hux. Sure, people took notice of his power, fearing him or admiring him for that, but it’s always been conditional. He had to perform to be noticed, and even then he fell short more often than not.

With Hux, all he needs to do is simply be.

Done with their clothes, they fall into Kylo’s bed, kissing with a languid deliberation, finding new ways to make each other moan in delight. Hux’s arms wrap tightly around Kylo’s body as they press together, their scents mingling until they become one.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” Hux says against Kylo’s lips, and Kylo’s cock throbs.

“I have?” It’s a cheeky move, but Kylo is feeling brazen with Hux looking at him like he holds the secrets of the universe.

Hux taps his nose.

“The airlock accident could have been done neater,” he says, and Kylo’s skin cools instantly. He holds his breath, preparing to be scolded. “But,” Hux continues, “it was quite inspired.”

Kylo exhales, throwing his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes. He almost ruined everything. And Hux is right, he should have at least stuffed Opan into that kriffing suit.

He must do better next time. He must not disappoint Hux.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, but Hux hushes him.

“I’m actually quite flattered.” Hux slides off Kylo onto his side and drags a finger along the length of Kylo’s heaving chest.

“Flattered?” Kylo tries to catch Hux’s hand, but Hux withdraws it faster than Kylo can touch it.

“You were so jealous of Captain Opan, you just had to go and kill him,” Hux says as he rolls Kylo onto his stomach.

“Wait, that’s not—” Kylo splutters, but Hux pushes his face into the pillow, cutting off his sentence.

“It’s alright,” Hux coos, hands gliding down Kylo’s back. “I, for one, won’t miss him.”

Kylo turns his head, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Hux.

“Didn’t you tell me to kill him?” He distinctly remembers that conversation, how coldly distant Hux was that morning.

“Me?” Hux sounds genuinely confused. “I never told you to kill anyone.”

Kylo’s head swims. He knows this is not true, but he can’t figure out why Hux would lie to him, not when Hux is pressing his lips to the small of Kylo’s back, trailing kisses up his spine.

“But… your father?” he asks, clinging to the last bits of his rational brain.

“You were so angry on my behalf,” Hux says as he nudges Kylo’s legs apart. “Ass up,” he orders with a light slap to Kylo’s right cheek.

“I don’t understand.” Kylo buries his forehead in the pillow, bending his knees and lifting his ass obediently. His omega hormones are already screaming at him that whatever Hux means, it’s immaterial.

The only thing that matters is that Hux is here, with him, doing everything for him.

“Let me take care of you, my darling,” Hux says, hands landing on Kylo’s buttocks and spreading them.

Slick is dripping out of Kylo onto the bedsheets, its sweet scent flooding the room. Before Kylo can add anything else to their conversation, Hux drags his tongue down Kylo’s ass cleft right to his leaking hole, and all thoughts of speaking evaporate from Kylo’s heat-addled mind.

Hux laps at him, licking the slick off his skin. No one’s ever done this to Kylo, and he finds himself trembling with the novelty of the sensation. Hux circles his hole with his tongue, eager and dedicated, fingers rubbing the soft flesh of Kylo’s ass.

“Do you like that?” Hux murmurs, lips touching Kylo’s slicked, sensitive skin.

“Fuck yes,” Kylo pants, unable to form any more words despite wanting to sing a few odes to Hux’s clever mouth.

“Good.”

Hux plunges his tongue inside Kylo, sticking it as far as it can go, and Kylo bites the pillow, overwhelmed. It’s both so vulgar and so intimate, he doesn’t quite know how to react, except with his omega brain that screams at him to take this alpha as his mate, to stay with him for the rest of his life, to do his bidding without hesitation.

As Kylo loses his hold on his consciousness, Hux continues to lick and suck and prod, fingers massaging Kylo’s cheeks, and it feels divine, sending Kylo to the levels of pleasure he didn’t know existed.

Twisting his tongue inside Kylo, Hux wraps his hand around Kylo’s cock and starts pumping it, driving Kylo to the brink of insanity.

“Hux, I—” he pants, trying to be a good omega, to give his lover a warning before he erupts with ropes of come splattering all over the sheets, but it happens too fast.

“Good boy,” Hux coos again, giving Kylo’s ass one last long lick.

This must be what happiness feels like.

While Kylo struggles to remember how to speak, Hux settles on his knees behind him, lining up his hard cock with Kylo’s thoroughly slicked hole. The feel of Hux’s head nudging at him makes Kylo’s body tremble with desire, and he pushes back, eager to have the entirety of Hux’s cock inside him.

“My sweet omega,” Hux says as he fucks into Kylo with short, rapid thrusts, and Kylo can’t help the noises that tear out of his throat.

When Hux’s knot expands inside Kylo’s ass, it’s pure bliss.

They fuck relentlessly through all the three days of Kylo’s heat, and if Hux gets a little bit rough at times, Kylo likes that just as well.

He comes out of the refresher, toweling his hair after taking a water shower, to find Hux sitting up in his bed, naked, datapad in hands.

“Working already?”

Hux sighs and puts his datapad on the sheets next to him.

“I’m presenting the Starkiller project at the next High Command meeting.” He looks at Kylo with tired eyes. “You know how much it means to me, my sweet.”

Kylo does. Hux has been working on it for as long as Kylo knows him. It’s his brainchild, his pride, his baby, and Kylo doesn’t want to imagine what would happen if the project doesn’t get approved.

He climbs into the bed, kneeling next to Hux.

“Can I help?”

Hux gives him a smile that is both charming and charmed.

“Actually, you can.”

***

Kylo waves his hand in the air for the second time.

“You will support Colonel Hux’s project no matter what,” he enunciates, waiting for the face in front of him to slacken and repeat his order.

General Domaric Quinn, however, is not easily convinced.

His eyes glaze over for half a second before boring into Kylo’s.

“But what if his proposal is not in the First Order’s best interests?”

Kylo wants to punch the man. Maybe choke him a little bit.

This is the last member of High Command that Kylo has to handle, and none of the previous Generals or Admirals gave him this much trouble. So far, General Enric Pryde’s mind was the toughest gra-nut to crack, but Kylo managed it. He’ll succeed with this one, too.

Otherwise, he won’t be able to face Hux again, and that’s something he cannot afford.

“Everything Colonel Hux does is in the First Order’s best interests,” he growls, missing the menacing hiss of his helmet.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Quinn tries to look down on Kylo, which is difficult, considering their height difference.

Kylo lunges forward and brings his gloved fingers to the General’s temples, sending the Force directly into the man’s brain.

“You will never doubt Colonel Hux,” he growls while General Quinn whimpers, frozen in place. “You will support Colonel Hux’s project.” The man’s eyes roll back until Kylo can only see the whites. “You will vote for everything Colonel Hux proposes.”

“I will vote for everything Colonel Hux proposes,” Quinn echoes meekly, and Kylo wonders if he’s damaged the man’s brain too much.

It doesn’t matter. As long as Domaric Quinn votes the right way, he may as well be a vegetable.

Kylo steps back, removing his hands, and the General slumps, arms hanging limply at his sides. As his eyes return to normal, he blinks, glancing around uncertainly.

“What just happened?” he asks, eyes landing on Kylo. Terror ripples in their depths, much to Kylo’s satisfaction.

“You have passed a surprise check ordered by the Supreme Leader,” Kylo lies in a monotone, the cover story that explains his jumping around their Star Destroyers for the past month. “May his life be long and prosperous.”

“Yes, that,” Quinn mumbles, as if he’s still unsure of the situation.

Whatever. Kylo did what he came here for.

He strides through the ship toward his TIE, his heart beating fast as he imagines Hux praising him for a job well done.

***

Hux meets Kylo in his office, his desk putting more distance between them than Kylo would like.

“Did you get all of them?” Hux asks without looking up from his datapad.

“Yes.” Kylo tries not to sound too eager, but he knows he’s failing.

“You’re quite sure?”

“Are you doubting me?” Kylo asks back, hurt.

Hux still doesn’t raise his eyes.

“Drop that tone,” he orders icily, and Kylo flushes with shame.

“I’m sorry.”

“Uh-huh.” Hux waves a hand at him, which must signify dismissal, except Kylo isn’t ready to leave.

“Hux?” he asks, hope spilling through the cracks in his voice.

“What?” Hux snaps, and Kylo flinches.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he mumbles, cheeks burning.

“What do you expect me to say?”

Kylo grips his right hand with his left, gloves creaking at the joints. He can’t possibly say the words himself.

“I—I don’t know,” is all he manages.

“Then stop wasting my time.” Hux waves his hand again, and this time Kylo leaves without another word.

As he walks toward his rooms, he replays their interaction in his head, trying to guess what he did wrong. Hux may be strict, but he’s always fair, which means it’s Kylo’s fault if Hux isn’t happy. He just needs to determine where he fucked up so he can do better next time.

Provided Hux still wants him.

The thought of losing Hux is too much, and when Kylo goes to bed alone that night, he hugs the pillow with Hux’s scent still clinging to it, praying that he’ll get the real thing again soon.

***

Hux’s Starkiller presentation results in a standing ovation and a promotion to General effective immediately.

“Shall we celebrate?” Kylo asks when the rest of High Command’s holos have flickered out, and they’re left alone in the conference room.

Hux considers him, as if noticing him for the first time.

“I don’t see why not,” he says at last, lifting his hand to cup Kylo’s face. “My pretty omega.”

It’s everything Kylo could ever want from him.

As Hux fucks him that night, Kylo promises himself that he’ll never disappoint Hux, no matter what it costs him. No price is too high to pay for the sheer joy of being the reason for Hux’s happiness.

And Hux is happy, Kylo can read it clearly in Hux’s Force signature, relishing the knowledge that he’s the one responsible for it.

“I love you,” he whispers as they settle in, ready to drift off to sleep.

“Good boy,” Hux says, and Kylo’s heart sings.

Chapter Text

“I’ve never told you about my childhood, have I?” Hux says, a few whiskeys into gamma shift, as Kylo sits on the floor between his legs.

Kylo shakes his head, leaning against Hux’s calf.

“Ah.” Hux stares at a point above Kylo, his eyes distant, his smile eerie. “Get me another glass.”

Without looking, Kylo levitates the whiskey bottle toward Hux, pours the drink, then puts it back. Hux pats him on the head, and Kylo makes a pleased, rolling sound deep in his chest.

He stops abruptly when Hux pours the contents of his glass on the floor next to him. A small puddle forms, reeking of strong alcohol.

“Lick it up,” Hux says.

It must be a joke.

“What?” Kylo asks, seeking Hux’s eyes for a hint of mischief.

“You heard me,” Hux insists, voice colder than Ilum ice.

Kylo promised himself he’d never disappoint Hux again. Whatever Hux means by this odd command, it’s not Kylo’s place to question it.

He crouches, bringing his face to the floor and sticking his tongue out, ready to lap up the whiskey mixed with dust.

Before he can do that, though, Hux’s hand lands on his shoulder, tugging him up.

“I didn’t expect you to actually go for it,” Hux says, and Kylo can’t say whether he means this as approval or not.

“I’m sorry,” he says, just in case.

Hux waves his glass at him, and Kylo refills it again. This time, Hux drinks it in one long gulp.

“Admiral Brooks.” Hux spits the name with a hatred that could burn through durasteel. “He thought this would be fun.” He glances at the puddle on the floor, lips curled in disgust. “I was just a child.”

Rage builds inside Kylo. Someone hurt Hux once, and that someone has to pay, that’s all he understands from this sad, awful story.

“I wonder what he’s doing now,” Hux muses, and Kylo hears it for the order it is.

***

As it turns out, Admiral Brooks isn’t doing much except for puffing up his chest and overestimating his importance.

“You won’t get away with this, Kylo Ren,” he fumes while he scrambles backwards through his office.

“With what?” Kylo asks pleasantly, his right hand high in the air.

“Whatever you think you’re doing.”

The Admiral’s bald head is sweating, glistening sickly under the harsh light. Kylo steps forward, driving Brooks into a corner.

“I heard you planned to sabotage General Hux’s shuttle,” he says, pinning the man’s limbs to the wall with the Force.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” The Admiral struggles against the invisible restraints, his face growing redder with every second.

Kylo wants this to hurt.

He ignites his lightsaber, its blade humming dangerously in the chilling room.

“Listen,” Brooks mumbles, eyes glued to the red light hovering in front of him. “I don’t know what Armitage told you—”

“You don’t get to speak his name,” Kylo snarls.

He slices through the Admiral’s flesh, cutting off his right arm at the shoulder. Brooks howls in pain, and Kylo grins, imagining how pleased Hux will be. Another swing and he removes the other arm too, the cauterized wounds filling the air with the stench of burnt flesh.

The fear in Brooks’s watery eyes is invigorating. Kylo likes being feared; it isn’t often that an omega can achieve enough power to be intimidating.

“You filthy whore,” Brooks spits while his body trembles in shock. “You’ll never—”

He doesn’t get to continue whatever he was trying to say.

Kylo lops off both of Brooks’s legs in one sweep, watching the man’s eyes bulge in agony. The stump of his body is held against the wall by the Force, invisible, immovable, inescapable, and he knows he’s one strike away from cold, certain death.

“His—little—bitch,” Brooks mutters, spending the last remnants of his strength on an insult that doesn’t hit anywhere close to home.

Kylo drives his saber through the Admiral’s heart and listens until it stops beating.

He can’t wait to share the news with Hux.

***

“That was incredibly sloppy,” is the first thing Hux says the moment Kylo steps into his office.

It’s decidedly not what Kylo expected.

“But I—”

Hux raises his hand sharply, silencing Kylo.

“Your cover story is terribly flimsy, and you just had to go and make it look personal.” He glares at Kylo with sharp, heavy eyes that make Kylo want to hide in a hole and never crawl back out.

“I thought you wanted him to suffer,” he mumbles. His hands feel so useless for all the power they can wield.

“You wanted him to suffer,” Hux corrects him. “I have no idea why.”

Kylo blinks, dumbfounded. He got it wrong again, misunderstood Hux’s instructions. Of course Hux expected something clean and untraceable; he doesn’t allow his emotions to rule him the way Kylo does. He was long over the humiliation inflicted by Brooks.

Chastised, Kylo stands in Hux’s office, feeling too large, too cumbersome, while Hux works on his datapad, having seemingly forgotten about Kylo’s presence. Kylo closes his eyes and focuses on Hux’s smoky scent, light at this time of his cycle, but still present.

It fills Kylo’s nostrils with comfort, making his mind wander into fantasies of their eventual bonding, a magical world where they’ll always be together, and he’ll never disappoint Hux, and Hux will praise everything Kylo does. They haven’t discussed it yet, but it’s inevitable—or at least Kylo needs to believe it so.

“Fuck,” Hux mutters, pushing his datapad away.

Kylo shakes himself out of his reverie.

“What’s wrong?” He takes a few steps forward until he’s standing right next to Hux’s desk, eyes searching Hux’s enraged face. Hopefully it’s not Kylo’s fault.

“Fucking Pryde,” Hux fumes. “He keeps voting against allocating more funds to the Starkiller project.” When Hux looks up at Kylo, his expression isn’t pleasant. “Weren’t you supposed to do your thing on him?”

“His mind is strong,” Kylo mumbles a meek excuse.

Hux scoffs.

“I thought your mind was strong.”

It feels like a well-deserved slap.

“I’ll—I’ll fix it,” Kylo promises, moving backward to the door.

Hux follows him with cold eyes.

“You’d better,” he says through tight lips as he pulls his datapad back and resumes his work, not interested in Kylo anymore.

Kylo all but runs toward his TIE, heedless of confused looks thrown his way. How could he be so stupid? No wonder Hux is upset. Kylo can’t afford any more failures.

He can’t afford losing Hux’s love.

***

“What brings you to the Steadfast, Lord Ren?” Pryde asks him as soon as Kylo steps out of his TIE. The man’s voice is frigid, distrust emanating from his mind like a baleful red light.

“We should talk in private, General.” Kylo moves past Pryde, leading the way toward the meeting rooms. It’s a good thing all Star Destroyers follow the same layout.

“About what?” Pryde doesn’t relent, falling into step with Kylo.

“A matter of security.” It’s true, in a way.

He chooses a room devoid of any life signs and motions for Pryde to join him inside. The man watches the door close behind them before turning his snake-like eyes on Kylo.

“What is so important that you must come here in person?” Pryde keeps his hands at his sides, close to his blaster.

Kylo begins to circle him, his cloak rustling in the cold silence of the room.

“I’ve seen your mind, General,” he says, slow and deliberate.

“Then you must have seen my undying loyalty to the First Order,” Pryde says, the slight tremor in his voice betraying him.

“To the First Order, yes.” Kylo is behind Pryde now, and the man’s body is rigid with the effort to not look back. “To the Supreme Leader? Not so much.”

The beautiful thing about this cover story is that Kylo doesn’t have to lie. Sooner or later, Pryde would have found himself sentenced to an ignoble death anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Pryde says, but he does, and his alpha scent turns sour with fear.

Kylo finishes his circle, stopping face to face with the man.

“You long for your Emperor,” he says softly, almost gently. “For the good old days of the Empire.”

“You cannot blame me for a bit of nostalgia.” Pryde looks straight ahead, avoiding Kylo’s eyes.

“No,” Kylo agrees. “But it doesn’t end there, does it?” He takes a step forward, suppressing a chuckle when Pryde hastily steps back. “You do not believe in our Supreme Leader.”

“I never said—”

“You think he is but a pale shadow of the great ruler that came before him,” Kylo presses on. He continues to move forward until Pryde’s back hits the wall. “One day, you will betray him, and I’m here to make sure you won’t.”

“This is nonsense.” Pryde’s face reddens. “You can’t possibly—”

“Oh, but I can.” Kylo shifts his cloak to the side, revealing a blaster hanging off his belt. He requisitioned it for this particular task, wanting to do it neatly this time. “Any last words?”

Pryde’s body is shaking, but his eyes are burning.

“Are the rumors true?” he asks, sharp with hatred. “Did that little Hux bastard put you up to this?”

Rage boils in Kylo’s veins.

“You aren’t worth a single hair on his head,” he says, raising his blaster and putting a single shot right in the middle of Pryde’s chest.

As the General slides down the wall, Kylo looks at the corpse with disgust. To think that this worm of a man was the reason for even a moment of Hux’s displeasure. Thankfully, he won’t intrude on Hux’s life ever again.

It feels good, Kylo decides, taking care of Hux, just like Hux takes care of him.

***

He arrives back on the Finalizer in the middle of gamma shift. Hux must be asleep, but Kylo can’t wait; his heat is already roiling inside his body, propelling him to find his alpha, fall into his arms, sink onto his knot.

His commander’s code cylinder opens all doors on the ship, including the door to Hux’s quarters. It’s the first time he’s ever stepped inside Hux’s private realm, and Hux’s scent wafting toward him from every surface almost overwhelms him.

Someone moves behind him in the semi-dark room, but before Kylo can react, something sharp presses against his throat.

“Ah, it’s you,” Hux says after a long inhale. He doesn’t withdraw his blade. “Your heat is early.”

“Did I wake you up?” Kylo tries not to move his neck too much.

“No.” With a sigh, Hux steps away from Kylo, sliding his blade back into its sleeve sheath. He’s in his uniform, only the undone collar of his jacket indicates that he’s off duty. “I was reading the report on Pryde’s execution.”

Kylo’s heart skips a beat.

“What did you think?”

Hux makes a face.

“Too merciful.” He walks to the other side of the room, leaving Kylo to stand at the door, confused. “The man deserved to suffer more.”

“I thought you wanted—”

Hux throws his hand up, cutting Kylo off.

“It doesn’t matter what you thought,” he says tightly. “Your job is not to think.”

“No,” Kylo agrees, and once again, he fights the urge to add ‘sir’ at the end.

Hux touches the access panel, opening the door to his bedroom.

“Well?” He looks at Kylo over his shoulder. “Are you going to stand there forever?”

Hormones are already raging in Kylo’s system, and the pain of failing Hux all over again dissipates under the urgent desire to get as close to Hux as physically possible.

He crosses the room in three long strides, arms reaching out to grab Hux’s shoulders and pull him into a kiss, but Hux steps aside, putting his hand over Kylo’s lips to stop him.

“Patience, my darling.”

Just for that endearment, Kylo will bring entire planets to Hux’s feet.

Hux leads him into the bedroom. It’s the same size as Kylo’s, but where Kylo’s is all black, Hux’s has crimson sheets covering the bed, and when he sits down on it, he looks like he’s swimming in the blood of his enemies.

Kylo loves it.

“Undress,” Hux orders while Kylo ogles him.

Hastily, Kylo drops his cloak and pulls at his robes, tugging them off. A seam rips, but he doesn’t mind. Anything to follow Hux’s orders.

Anything to make Hux smile at him again.

He steps out of his underwear, kicking it away like it’s soaked in poison. Fully naked, he feels slick start to trickle down his thigh. His cock is already full, bursting with need.

Hux motions for him to come closer until Kylo stands between Hux’s legs, Hux looking up at him with that blank expression that drives Kylo mad. He doesn’t know if Hux is pleased or not, and the uncertainty gnaws at his sanity.

“Kneel,” Hux says curtly, his tone just as unreadable.

Kylo drops to his knees, ass pressed to his heels, his cock straining toward Hux, who’s considering him like he’d inspect a curious alien insect. If that’s what it takes to get Hux’s attention, he’d happily grow extra legs and learn to buzz.

While Kylo’s skin grows hotter and hotter as his heat builds, Hux opens the drawer of his nightstand and pulls a set of binders out of it.

“Hands behind your back,” he says, and Kylo instantly complies. “Now cuff yourself.”

He lets go of the binders and Kylo catches them with the Force, levitating them around himself. It’s easy to position the unforgiving metal and snap it closed on his wrists, easier than watching Hux’s face remain indifferent as Kylo tries to do everything Hux wants.

His slick is dripping on the floor now, every millimeter of his body aflame with need. Regardless, he sits perfectly still, awaiting further instructions from the only voice that matters.

Slowly, Hux slides his right boot forward, nudging Kylo’s cock with the polished tip.

Kylo doesn’t even try to suppress the whimper that flies off his lips.

“What a silly, silly boy you are,” Hux murmurs, his boot gliding up and down the length of Kylo’s cock.

Shame spikes through Kylo, hot and blinding. He drops his head, unable to meet Hux’s eyes.

This is everything he feared. It’s also, in a bizarre sort of way, everything he wanted.

“Useless, aren’t you?” Hux continues as he taps the toe of his boot against Kylo’s cock. “Silly, useless boy.”

Something howls inside Kylo, urging him to beg for forgiveness, to plead for another chance to prove himself. More slick slides out of him, the glaring emptiness in his body desperate to be filled.

The heat addles his mind, mixing up his emotions, sowing misery and confusion. It wasn’t long ago that Hux praised him, told him how good he was. For the life of him, Kylo doesn’t understand how he ended up here, curling on himself, trying to shrink in embarrassment as his alpha scolds him for his very real faults.

He was never good enough for Hux. Forgiveness is all he can pray for now.

“I’m sorry,” he says, repeats it over and over, a broken holo-record.

“You should be,” Hux confirms, his boot stroking the underside of Kylo’s cock.

Kylo inhales Hux’s smokey scent, grateful to have that at least. The pressure against his cock isn’t enough to get him off, but it’s enough to torture him with the promise of something more—something he isn’t sure he deserves.

“Please,” he begs, all thoughts dissolving into a single, overwhelming need.

Hux pushes the sole of his boot flat against Kylo’s cock, pressing it to his stomach. He rubs Kylo’s cock up and down in lazy, detached motions, his head tilted to the side as he watches Kylo’s cheeks burn.

“You want my knot?” he asks in a drawl, and Kylo nods until his neck hurts. Hux withdraws his boot and undoes the front of his jodhpurs, tugging his cock out, hard and glorious. “Come and get it then, you hungry slut.”

Kylo tries to get up, but Hux puts his boot on his shoulder, pushing him back.

“Your mouth first.”

The ache inside Kylo is borderline unbearable, but he can’t disobey Hux.

He shuffles forward on his knees until he’s close enough to wrap his lips around Hux’s cock. Hux grips his hair, tugging him forward until Kylo’s choking on Hux’s length, barely able to fit it into his throat without gagging.

Kylo’s thighs are wet with slick, every cell of his being wanting Hux with an intensity that chases away every other consideration.

This is the difference between Hux and all the other alphas in Kylo’s life. Kylo will blunder and fail and flounder, and Hux will still be there for him, catching him as he loses his footing, just like he does now, feeding his cock into Kylo’s body, giving him the contact Kylo craves.

For this alone, Kylo will tear out throats with his bare teeth.

He licks and sucks and hollows his cheeks, while Hux makes quiet, contained moans above his head. The base of Hux’s cock pulses between Kylo’s lips, his knot on the verge of popping, and Kylo is ready to take it in his mouth, to have Hux lodged deep inside his throat, cutting off his air, if that’s what Hux plans for him.

“Up,” Hux orders instead, pulling Kylo off his cock by the hair and scooting backward on the bed, patting his thighs in invitation.

Kylo shoots upward, almost losing his balance with his hands still bound behind his back. He kneels on Hux’s crimson sheets and wiggles his ass as he tries to seat himself on Hux’s cock. His body is shivering with the intensity of his need, but he can’t quite get into the right position.

“So clumsy,” Hux murmurs, grabbing Kylo’s ass to steady him.

He guides the tip of his cock past Kylo’s rim, and Kylo exhales loudly, dropping his hips until the entirety of Hux’s length is buried in him. His slick must be dripping onto Hux’s uniform, sullying it, but he’ll take care of that later, after his heat-wrecked body is satisfied.

“Ah, yes,” Hux pants, his nails digging into Kylo’s thighs, and Kylo almost loses his mind with relief.

He glides his hips forward, clenches around Hux’s cock, and then suddenly Hux’s knot is expanding inside him, filling him exactly the way he needs, tying them together exactly the way he wants.

Overwhelmed, Kylo comes in a rush, painting Hux’s uniform jacket in ropes of white, and he’s immediately terrified. Breath held, he watches Hux glance down at himself, his expression unreadable once again.

“I—” Kylo gulps when Hux doesn’t say anything. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Such a naughty boy.” Hux clicks his tongue. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

He raises his hands to cup Kylo’s face, thumbs digging into Kylo’s cheeks. Beside himself with remorse, Kylo leans into it, his skin burning where Hux is blessing him with his touch.

“Anything,” he says, and he means it.

“You haven’t been a good boy recently, have you?” Hux slides his hands down, stroking Kylo’s neck.

Kylo’s looking at him from above, but it feels like he’s writhing beneath Hux’s feet, barely allowed to gaze upon Hux’s glory.

“No,” he says, guilt and pleasure mixing in his system, tearing him apart.

Hux tuts as he taps his fingers over Kylo’s shoulders.

“Do you want to bond with me, Ren?” He makes it sound so simple, casual even.

Kylo’s tongue trembles in his mouth. He can’t say a word.

“Ah.” Hux understands him nonetheless. “You do.”

His Force signature emits satisfaction, and Kylo clings to it, hoping beyond hope that Hux will say yes, or at least won’t send him away.

Hux grips Kylo’s chin, making sure Kylo looks straight at him, as if he isn’t the only thing Kylo wants to see.

“You can’t have two masters, though, can you?”

Hux makes this question sound simple, too, and it is simple, isn’t it?

Everything has been leading to this, Kylo should have known it from the start.

He’s got the alpha he always wanted, the alpha who can finally give him everything he needs, so he really, truly doesn’t need anyone else anymore.

His training is complete. He is complete.

Something nags at him, an underlying sense of wrongness, some puzzle pieces not exactly matching each other, but it doesn’t matter. None of Kylo’s concerns matter.

Hux’s word is absolute.

***

Snoke demands to see him right after Kylo’s heat ends, Hux’s scent still strong on his skin.

It’s good. It helps Kylo remember what he has to do, and it gives him the strength to do it.

As the Supremacy’s turbolift takes him to the throne room, he reaches into himself, coaxing his deepest turmoils to the surface, so he can draw strength from them, and stars, he’s going to need a lot of it.

All the guilt he’s ever felt, all the shame, the crushing inadequacy, every little hurt and insult he’s suffered, he pulls them up, rolls himself in them, lets anger build over the layers of anguish.

He’s Kylo Ren. His power cannot be contained.

The tubrolift door opens, and Kylo strides forward, each step carrying him closer to his destiny. He stops a few meters from the throne where Snoke is studying him, sunken eyes cold, dissatisfied.

Before, that would have crushed Kylo. Now, he doesn’t care.

This is not the alpha he’s been looking for.

“What is this I hear about you murdering my officers?” Snoke asks, but Kylo understands the real question lurking beneath those words.

He pretends otherwise.

“They were traitors.” At least in Pryde’s case, it isn’t a lie.

Snoke shifts on the throne, his large head tilting.

“That is for me to decide, apprentice.”

“You entrusted me with the Finalizer,” Kylo parries, waiting for Snoke to get to the point of their little meeting.

“The Finalizer, yes.” Snoke taps his fingers on the throne armrest. “Not the entire First Order.”

Kylo says nothing, keeps his gaze straight. Power is curling at the tips of his fingers, and he doesn’t want to lose focus.

“Tell me, apprentice,” Snoke’s voice is a mix of honey and poison, “who were they betraying? Me?” He points at himself. “You?” He points at Kylo. “Or—” His long fingers curl into a fist. “A rabid cur who doesn’t know his place?”

Rage ignites inside Kylo’s veins, his blood boiling.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” No one has any idea what Hux truly is; no one but him.

Snoke leans back, eyes rounded.

“I don’t? Why, apprentice.” He grips the armrests, ready to push himself up. “Your mind is troubled.”

“I have never seen as clearly as I do now,” Kylo counters, letting the Force build around him.

Snoke rises, tall and gaunt, a ghost, a nightmare.

“Such a pity.” His lips curve down in mock regret. “You showed so much potential.”

Kylo raises his chin, his body ready to burst with power.

The Praetorian guards step forward as one, but Snoke waves his hand, stopping them.

“This is my apprentice,” he explains. “It’s my job to put him down.”

Kylo scoffs at Snoke’s arrogance.

“My grandfather killed the Emperor.” An image of the half-melted helmet floats before Kylo’s eyes. “I will kill you.”

“Darth Vader died.” Snoke raises his arms, sparks dancing over his too-long nails. “Now it is your turn.”

“Help me, grandfather,” Kylo whispers as he throws his hands up. “You’re my only hope.”

Darth Vader was in love, once. He must know what’s at stake for his heir.

Slowly, almost lazily, Snoke twists his hand, sending a bolt of Force lightning toward Kylo, but just as he does, something new surges through Kylo’s body, something foreign and familiar at the same time, and a ray of bright-red light bursts out of the center of his raised palm, hitting the lightning and disintegrating it in mid-air.

After all this time, Kylo’s not alone anymore.

His grandfather’s fury mixes with Kylo’s own, and another line of red rips through the air, hitting Snoke right in the chest. The alpha staggers, taking a step back, but even that blow isn’t enough to stop the monster’s heart.

It slows him down, though, and Kylo uses the moment to leap across the room, drawing his lightsaber. Snoke summons a scythe from one of the guards, parrying Kylo’s strike.

“It’s not too late,” he says, pale eyes offering forgiveness at the price of Kylo’s soul.

Kylo swings.

“It is.”

Snoke tries to push Kylo away with the Force, but Darth Vader’s aura grows strong around Kylo, keeping his legs firm where he stands. His lightsaber slices through the air, driving Snoke backwards until his knees hit the throne and he collapses onto it, gripping the handle of the scythe with both hands, placing it in the way of Kylo’s blade.

“Where do you think he will stop?” Snoke asks, and Kylo knows he’s won.

“That,” his saber cuts through Snoke’s scythe, “is none of your concern.”

He doesn’t hesitate, raising his lightsaber in a wide arc.

“You could have been such a good boy,” Snoke wheezes, but his words don’t reach Kylo anymore.

He brings his lightsaber down, and Snoke’s head rolls, his eyes frozen in an expression of pity—for himself, for Kylo, or perhaps, for both of them at once.

Pity is the last thing Kylo needs.

He comms Hux with a brief message, “It is done,” and shoves Snoke’s corpse off the throne, levitating his former master’s remains to the other end of the room where the cleaning droids will dispose of them.

With a swoosh, the turbolift door opens and Hux steps into the throne room, uniform pristine and eyes burning. The red guards shift in their places, and Kylo senses their confusion.

He raises his right hand, drawing on the remnants of his grandfather’s power to pin them in place.

“Your Supreme Leader is dead,” he announces, voice carrying.

Hux strides unhurriedly across the room, sidestepping Snoke’s remains with a light sneer.

“Long live the Supreme Leader,” the guards say in strained unison as Hux reaches the throne.

Kylo kneels before him, head bowed, reverent and excited.

This is where they were always supposed to be, Hux at the top, Kylo at his side.

Hux takes his place on the throne, and it suits him like he was born for this.

“Your neck, Ren,” he orders.

“Yes, sir.”

Shaking, Kylo shuffles between Hux’s legs and tilts his head to the side, rolling his collar down, baring his most vulnerable spot for Hux.

Hux’s hand comes to the other side of his neck, his gloved fingers pressing into the tender skin. Kylo swallows, ready and not ready. Slowly, impossibly slowly, Hux leans forward, and the air in the entire room stills.

His teeth close over Kylo’s scent gland, breaking skin, sending a heavenly burst of joy through Kylo’s body, tethering them together for as long as either of them breathes, and Kylo weeps.

When he looks up, Hux is sitting tall on the throne, looking at Kylo from above, his eyes cold with power. A smile curls his lips, and it’s beautiful.

“Well done,” he says simply, and Kylo can’t believe this is real.

His neck throbs with the rush of a new bond, filling him with happiness so bright, it’s absurd.

There’s nothing more he could ever wish for.

Hux is the Supreme Leader. Hux is his alpha.

Hux is God.