A/N: I decided the best way to start off 2016 was to officially induct myself into the Kylux trash family, because for the last two days that's pretty much the only thing that I've cared about in any way, shape or form. So, heyhihellothere my fellow shippers. Happy to be on board for a long, long year of agony.

((Originally posted to tumblr))

…

General Hux is nothing if not carefully composed and utterly calculated. Every move that he makes, every notion that he entertains, every word that falls from his lips is perfectly planned and even more flawlessly executed. He has learned to master his emotions, to push them down somewhere they couldn't bother him, because feelings have no order, and he has no time for chaos. He is nothing if not goal oriented, and from the moment he sets his sights upon something, he is formulating a plan to obtain it, and in all his life he has never failed to do so.

Or at least, never had failed.

But Kylo Ren is nothing if not unpredictable. He is a volatile surge of emotions, all rage and venom and a desperate desperation in everything that he does. He is a terrifying whirlwind of passion and loathing, and it shows in every move that he makes, every notion that he entertains, every word that falls from his lips. His emotions have learned to master him, to guide him and use him and mold him into this weaponized embodiment of chaos.

Hux has no time for chaos, and therefore has no time for Kylo Ren, particularly when the Knight was causing chaos on his ship, channeling all of that rage into another piece of particularly expensive technology. He is sick of having the same conversations, the same arguments. Each and every time, he has selected every word, every subtle movement, has crafted in his mind the perfect image of how the dialogue should go. Each and every time, Kylo does or says something that is so completely unexpected, Hux swears he can feel his own composure wavering at how easily the Knight can throw him. He hates it, perhaps more than he has ever hated anything before in all his life, hates how Kylo is able to react to the moment instead of mapping out every possible outcome long before they have the chance to arise. He hates it, but he envies it too, almost, a realization that only makes him despise it all the more. Already that's two emotions the Knight of Ren has managed to elicit from him, which is two more than he desired to feel at all.

Regardless of all of this, of knowing fully well that he will likely regret this, he finds himself lingering before the door to Kylo Ren's private chambers. He stands perfectly still, his breathing even and measured, because everything that he does is ordered and timed. He tells himself that perhaps this time will be different, that Ren will merely listen to him instead of trying to escalate the scene into a confrontation, that maybe this will be the time he finally convinces him to find a better place to take out his aggression than on the First Order's machinery.

In his mind, his voice is sure and calm, but still he hesitates a moment before lifting his hand to knock. The sound is sharp, crisp, and a stark contrast to the jagged voice that calls out from within. "Leave me," Kylo hisses, but the usual fire that his tone always seems to hold sounds as though it's been doused. Hux also notices, with a slight hint of surprise, that it isn't muffled by the mask he insists on wearing any time someone might see him.

Hux is nothing if not diligent, patient. "I want to speak with you, Ren," he says in reply, his own words coming out sharp and direct.

A soft huff sounds from within the chamber. "Talk," he repeats, and Hux swears that he can picture the exact scowl upon his face, the one that looks like it's caught between amusement and disgust. He's silent for a long while, then, and just when Hux is beginning to consider deriving from his script and calling out to the older- older, he thinks pointedly, it's ridiculous- man once more, he hears the sound of shuffling footsteps, and then the door is parting to reveal Kylo himself. He looks a mess, dark hair all disheveled around his pallid face in a drastic contrast. Somehow, he manages to make it look intentional, this small display of chaos, and Hux hates it, but he seems to be having a hard time catching the stray thoughts of how it might feel to take him by a fistful of it in his own fit of rage.

Standing before the general now, he lifts his chin just enough for their eyes to meet, and Hux is expecting to see some tangible rage left over from whatever had prompted his outburst, but instead all he sees is this great vacancy. "Well?" He urges, pushing a hand through the tantalizingly tangled locks.

Hux never breaks away from his perfect posture, and his expression never flickers from the blank and disinterested expression he nearly always wears. But inside, his mind is breaking down, shattering each carefully constructed wall one by one and allowing his thoughts to wander places he had dared not venture into before. He imagines that Kylo's fingers are calloused from his training, and for a mere fraction of a second, he catches himself wondering how they might feel trailing over his flesh.

Kylo Ren is still staring at him expectantly, making no attempt to shield his irritation. Hux blinks a few times, too quickly, and swallows hard. "Ah, yes," he murmurs, falling back into his facade. "I wanted to ask you just how many times I was going to have to ask you to stop wrecking my ship before you actually decided to take the words to heart."

Something shifts in Kylo's features, not quite surprise but more like a muted aggravation. "Sorry," he drawls in a tone that assures the redhead he is most certainly anything except remorseful. A quick pause, his head tilting to the side just mere millimeters, only enough to notice by someone who never missed anything. Then, the spark of a gleam in his depthless eyes. "Perhaps I will stop destroying your machines when you stop acting like one."

For a few painfully precious seconds, Hux finds himself rendered speechless. It's brief, his pause, but it's enough for him to notice. He knows fully well that Kylo notices it too, this rare crack in his shell, but for one reason or another, the dark haired man chooses to leave it be.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Hux says eventually, when he has reclaimed his precious self-control. "And anyway, we're discussing your personality flaws, not mine."

"So you admit to being flawed, then," Kylo notes, his voice lifting slightly, like this alone was all that he had needed to elevate his obviously dampened mood. It's a misstep, a single word that he hadn't measured quite as cautiously as the others, because something about Kylo fucking Ren makes him forget how to be careful. Or maybe it was just that Kylo makes him want to forget, because somehow the Knight makes reckless abandon look desirable. He makes letting go look easy. This pathetic, pitiful mess of disastrous dark curls and temper tantrums and beautiful rage makes him think that giving into his emotions can't possibly be a bad thing. If Kylo can learn to use them as a strength instead of wielding them as a weakness, then surely Hux could do the same.

By the time he realizes his second misstep, it's already too late. The air hangs heavily around them, thick with tension and silence and the weight of the distance between them, of which Hux suddenly finds himself overly aware. By the time he realizes that, in letting his walls down he had been inviting Kylo Ren to come marching right inside, it's too late, and the Knight is watching him curiously, and for once he appears to be the one with the guarded expression. The general is quick to arrange his features into a scowl, taking a step backwards like maybe the new distance between them might be enough to keep Ren from pawing around in the confines of his mine, where his most private thoughts have been locked away.

"Oh," Kylo says, and that's all, just this slight exhalation that dangles between them, twisting and spinning and sending a wave of nausea rolling through the redhead before him. When he finally pauses to meet Hux's eyes, he adds shortly, "I can't tell if you want to hit me or fuck me."

Quite literally choking on the very breath that he'd been taking, Hux gives a quick series of undignified coughs. "I-I…" He stammers, cursing himself for even opening his mouth at all. But it matters not. This round is over, and Kylo has clearly emerged victorious. At least he will be in better spirits. Perhaps the ship can afford taking any damage for a few days. Giving up entirely, he gives a small shrug. "Most of the time, I cant either."

Now it's Kylo's turn to be silent, the last of the oxygen in his lungs escaping in a single gasp of a breath. His eyes have widened, and all at once Hux realizes that he has turned the tables, that he is back in control, that Kylo is the one unprepared and caught off guard now. He takes advantage of this, working quickly to smooth his hands over his pressed back shirt and blinking away the last of the trepidation from his eyes. Straightening up and jutting his chin out, he looks down upon Kylo in contemplation.

But instead of selecting his usual sneer that he had generally reserved specifically for him, he opts instead to relax, slouching his shoulders from their rigid position and going so far as to push a hand through his perfectly slicked back hair. "Perhaps I can see what other techniques I can use to render you silent," he states, and he is nearly certain it is the boldest thing he's ever done in his life.

Or the second, he decides a moment later, because instead of waiting for Kylo's reply, he lunges forward, hands tangling into a mess of black tresses and lips colliding into a sudden kiss. It's rushed, sloppy, and terribly elegant, but Hux can't help but think that in spite of that all, it may be the most perfect kiss of his life. He withdraws for mere seconds, just long enough to look Kylo in the eye, maybe to give him the opportunity to run. But Ren is silent and Hux is impatient, and soon the general has descended upon the other man once more, and he is twisting his hair around his fingers, and he is embracing the twisting feeling of anticipation as it blossoms in the pit of his stomach, and he is using the weight of his body to lead Kylo Ren towards the bed.

He is letting go, and nothing has ever felt so right in all his life.