TechieHux

kesstiel:

A/N: Welp, I watched Darkest Hour and for those who haven’t seen it (spoiler alert) there’s a scene in which King George comes to Churchill’s home and offers his resources and support in a way he’d been very reluctant to before. It’s one of the most beautiful scenes in the movie and the whole thing made me want to write Kylux with a similar theme post-TLJ. I can’t “mobilize the English language and send it into battle” the way Churchill did in that film, but I’ll damn well try!

—–

When Hux comes to him, summoned at what even Ren can admit is an unreasonable hour–he can’t sleep, won’t sleep, has to make this right–he suddenly finds that he’s the one who can’t breathe for a moment.

“You wanted to see me, Supreme Leader?” Hux’s voice is raspy. He must have been woken by the summons. Kylo refuses to think of the other reason for the General’s lack of volume.

He’s not in uniform, just his leisure robes, and they do exactly nothing to hide the bruising traveling along his cheek and his neck. Kylo knows if he parted the robe, the ugly purples and blues and greens would continue down his side and hip and leg. All my fault.

“I did,” he starts, but the things he’d planned on saying die before they leave his mouth. What words would be good enough to span the breadth of the agony he feels at having hurt Hux like this? What could he possibly say to make things right again between them? They’d fought so hard for relative peace with every kiss, every violent and gentle touch.

And then Starkiller happened. And now this. Not even Hux with all his patience could put what Kylo had broken back together. Knowing that didn’t make any of it easier.

“Did, Supreme Leader?” Hux prompts, raising a brow, derision and disgust emanating so strongly from him that Ren doesn’t even need the Force to feel it. “Do you no longer require my services?”

“No, I–Hux I just–I mean I wanted–” He can’t do this. “I didn’t mean…” He can’t do this, has never been good at dealing with the consequences of his actions, especially when those actions hurt other people. He buries his face in his hands, overwhelmed and aching and so very, very sorry. “Fuck,” he chokes, trying to hold back the pain he doesn’t deserve to feel.

“Supreme Leader are you…are you crying?”

He is, he can’t help it. They’d planned this so carefully, Hux had detailed every step for their conjoined ascent to power and as always Kylo just couldn’t follow the fucking plan. Had ruined it and then ruined any chance of still having Hux’s respect, much less his affection when he’d…

When he’d…

He feels a careful hand on his own, unsure of its welcome, and Hux slowly sinks to the floor before Ren’s throne, intimately close and looking at him with something resembling fondness and bitterness and resignation all rolled into the impossibility that is his General.

“Hux, don’t–”

“Hush, Ren. You are quite aware of my proclivities and being on my knees is not one of them at times like these,” he says sardonically, and Kylo snaps his mouth shut, surprised at Hux’s vehemence. He’s angry, but not for the reasons Ren would have assumed.

It’s a long while of just listening to each other’s breathing even back out before Hux speaks again. When he does, he’s almost too quiet to hear and Kylo nearly misses it.

“You have my support.”

Kylo rears back in disbelief, almost asks Hux to repeat himself because he couldn’t–he can’t–

“Ren, look at me and stop for a moment.” Kylo is helpless to do anything but obey, even though his breathing is nothing more than a rapid, shuddery thing.

“I need for you to understand something, Ren. I am here for the Order and the peace I want to see restored in the galaxy. That has ever been my first priority.” Cold, sharp, ruthless, and Kylo nods, eyes downcast in understanding.

He really needs to get better at hearing how unwanted he is. He’d brought it on himself anyways. Why did every rejection always hurt worse than the time before?

“That being said,” Hux continues, softer now. “Much as I may wish things were different, we cannot go back. There is only forward. And the more I look ahead the more I see what you are capable of being. Lead us, Ren.” His voice is strong despite its roughness, confident in his cause and Kylo feels punch drunk when Hux reaches up to hold his face and runs his thumbs over the dark circles beneath tired, war-weary eyes

“Let me give you everything I can to help you succeed in this. You have immeasurable power, but so do I. Don’t dismiss the shape of mine because you don’t know how to wield it. Let me wield it for you. If you give me the tools to do so, I will hand you the galaxy on gilded pyres of blood and bone. I will not betray you. I could not. To do so would betray the Order and…and my heart.”

His humorless laugh guts Kylo as surely as his words do, but his heart can’t help but soar. There is still a chance for them, and he would willingly throw himself on his own lightsaber before he would even think of hurting Hux like this again. He’ll prove himself worthy of Hux’s faith. To do anything else would destroy him.

“Lucky for me, they seem to be one and the same now. I could have had everything, could have taken that shot in this very room, but victory would have been so hollow. Ren. I beg of you, as I would not beg anyone else. Do not send me away. Do not kill me or ignore me or replace me. Let me win this war for you. Let me support you.”

Kylo is shaking his head before Hux can finish, wishing he could take back every moment that led to Hux thinking he was disposable or unwanted.

He does not kiss him yet, he’ll have to earn back that privilege, but he draws Hux up to his height and presses their foreheads together, unable to stop the tears from flowing silently as he tries to understand. It will take him a long time to feel purged of his recent misdeeds, but having Hux’s hands on his face and his words surrounding him is a benediction he never thought he’d be granted.

“Anything,” he whispers, ready and willing to make any reckless promise, grant any title, give every power over if it meant he might still be allowed to hold Hux in the days to come.

“In that case, we can discuss a promotion tomorrow at your leisure, Supreme Leader,” Hux mutters, the words a salve on the wounds Ren has caused. He bats the hands on his face away and steps back. Waits until Kylo looks up after him, and then tips his head in the direction of the halls, a small smile stealing Kylo’s breath once more.

“For now, it’s late, and waging war has never been conducive for an adequate sleep cycle. Will you come to bed? I’m afraid Millicent has grown rather distraught without her personal heater to warm her. Apparently I’m simply not an adequate substitute. She’s taken to sleeping in my closet and I have yet to find a single uniform spared of her hair. The situation is really quite critical.”

Kylo nearly trips on his cape in his eagerness to comply, and he follows the sharp, pleased bark of laughter as they make their way to their rooms–theirs again–ready to face everything to come with Hux by his side.