written for my own interpretation of “flip the prep/bad boy stereotype” – wherein Kylo wears a lot of black and rides a motorcycle and Hux looks like a J.Crew ad and knows how to go down.Â
Kylo just wants to get through the rest of senior year and get out of his personal suburban hell, but when he catches the eye of one Armitage Hux, things heat up.
Excerpt:
Armitage Hux is standing over him. He’s got his hands in his pockets and Wayfarer sunglasses on. He’s got that smirk on again, and he looks like an asshole. A really good looking asshole, but still. He’s wearing a polo. Kylo stares up at the dark lenses.
“Hey,” says Hux. Kylo waits. He can feel his heart beating harder than usual in his chest, he hopes his cheeks aren’t flushing and giving him away. But he’s not going to embarrass himself any further in front of Armitage Hux, of all people.
“Hux!” comes a voice from further along the strip. Kylo can make out Phasma’s blonde hair.
Hux doesn’t look over at her. He flaps a hand in her direction, instead.
“Yeah, just go, I’ll be fine,” he calls out, his face never moving, Kylo wonders if Hux is staring at him. In a much lower voice he says to Kylo, “Any chance you can give me a ride?”
It doesn’t have the same innuendo it did in the school parking lot. Given that Kylo can hear someone pulling out of the parking lot, something loud and throbbing spilling out of open windows, he’s pretty sure that Hux doesn’t have another way of getting home.
“Do I have a choice?” Kylo asks, after a moment.
“We always have a choice,” Hux replies. He licks his lips. “But I’d really appreciate it.”
Like that, the innuendo is back. It makes him nervous.
“Okay,” he says. Hux’s expression doesn’t change but he asks, “Okay, what?”
Hux continued tapping away on his data pad, watching the changes to the map beaming out from his desktop holoprojector.
“Did you not hear what I said? Desist, I have work to do.”
“I can’t stop, you are irresistible.” Kylo leaned forward and nosed at Hux’s nape, as his arms snaked around his belly.
Hux huffed out a breath, feigning annoyance. His body was already unconsciously tilting back to rest against Kylo’s chest; his eyelids trying to flutter closed at the feel of warm exhalations dancing over his skin.
“As pleasant as your attentions are, it is critical that I get these coordinates accurate. I need to concentrate.”
“Mmmhmmm.” Kylo’s fingers were unbuckling Hux’s belt; sliding it free; letting it drop to the floor.
“Kylo.”
“Hmmm?” Kylo nosed into Hux’s neck and began working his jacket buttons open.
“Are you listening to me at all?”
“Of course. I am always listening to you, General.” He draped the jacket over the cool blue arm of the sofa where they sat.
“Marvelous. And yet your hand appears to be sliding into my trousers.”
“On top of. My hand is on top of your trousers.”
“I stand corrected. It is, however, stroking in a most distracting way.”
“Apologies. Is this better?”
“You are squeezing, now.”
“Well. Gently.”
Hux sighed and twisted in Kylo’s embrace so he could look his Supreme Leader in the eye.
“Ren.”
“Hux?”
“Fifteen minutes, can I have fifteen minutes to finish this?”
“Of course! I’d never allow pleasure to come before work.” His broad hand snuck under Hux’s regulation black undershirt, skimming over his ribs.
Hux turned back to his projection and made some adjustments on his data pad. As the map model updated, Hux tapped his index finger against his chin, and opened the communique on the table to re-read it.
“I’ve nearly got – “ Hux cut himself off with a yelp as Kylo had found a nipple and was now rolling his thumb over it.
Kylo grinned into Hux’s hair as he tugged him closer.
“You’re insatiable.”
“And you love it.”
Hux let his head fall back and turn, his lips finding Kylo’s and sharing some just-a-bit-off-target kisses. Kylo gave a little moan and increased the pressure of his hand in Hux’s lap.
“Quit it, or I’ll bite.”
“That’s not going to discourage me, General. I like it rough, and I delight in wearing your marks.”
Hux gave another sigh, and fumbled for the projector remote.
“I surrender. Clearly tracking down the source of the Resistance’s financing is not top priority at the moment. I suppose I can get back to this in an hour.”
“Mmm…I think it’s best to plan on several hours, General.”
“Fan fiction is what literature might look like if it were reinvented from scratch after a nuclear apocalypse by a band of brilliant pop-culture junkies trapped in a sealed bunker. They don’t do it for money. That’s not what it’s about. The writers write it and put it up online just for the satisfaction. They’re fans, but they’re not silent, couchbound consumers of media. The culture talks to them, and they talk back to the culture in its own language.”
Jules' Kylux Stuff 