Chapter 3: Pushing Through

Summary: Hux reassesses what he truly wants out of life

[excerpt]:
The Jeep's tires crunched on the gravel road as it inched slowly forward. The house was framed against the sprawling backdrop of the Sawtooths in the distance, yet perhaps the most beautiful thing was what lay directly ahead. A figure stood, tall against the darkening sky. Hux could see the singed paper and the burning tobacco leaf which glowed red with each inhalation of those pursed lips. A lump formed in his throat as he took in the bricolage of sharp angles and soft curves, so beguiling in their imperfection, the man's ebony hair blowing wildly in the gusting wind.

~O~~O~~O~~O~~O~

Hux lifted his head slowly. He opened a bleary eye, squinting from the sun which was slanting unmercifully across his bed. His temples throbbed, and his mouth tasted as if his stomach had upended its contents overnight in a fit of pique.

He swore as he stood, disentangling himself from the sheets which had wound themselves around his unsteady legs as he forced a glass of water past his cracked lips and dry throat.

Hux grimaced. Four bottles of Bud and two double shots of Wild Turkey after a day of hiking and a shitload of tears had done little to wash the pain away.

He had gone through the motions of filling and refilling their drinks, never leaving any of the First Order patrons wanting for libation or polite conversation. He even managed the occasional smile. Perhaps it was a bit forced, he conceded, becoming tighter and thinner as the night progressed.

Hux sighed in frustration. It was all anyone could talk about around here: the damn drought; their low crop yields; and the inability to fill their orders, all the time wondering whether tomorrow would be better, or whether it would bring more of the same. And Hux would listen, throwing them a sympathetic smile here or a trite platitude there, just as he had done the day before and which he would most assuredly do again tonight.

Well, perhaps not tonight. Phasma had pulled Hux aside after taking away what would have been his third helping of Kentucky bourbon, requesting that he take the day off. She probably didn't take too kindly to the fact that Hux had let out a loud expletive when Tarkin had continued to nurse his beer, half an hour after last call.

Hux wondered if this was to be his future as well: sitting alone in a dark bar, making small conversation with people who weren't exactly strangers, but who also weren't exactly your friends. Hanging on desperately to your last drink, because the alternative to pissing off the bartender who longed to go home was to return to the sad one that was your own.

His phone buzzed. It was the latest in a string of unanswered texts. They had started last night, so frequent and persistent in the beginning that Hux had turned off his phone. They were variations on the same theme: Sorry, and Can I can make it up to you? followed by Please respond, complete with a crying face pleading later changed to concern, laced with a hint of self-righteousness: At least let me know if you're OK, and Srsly, you OK or just this thin-skinned?

The last one came this morning, right after Hux had fought to hold down a small helping of scrambled eggs and a side of overly dry toast:

Ignore the last text, mea culpa Heading over to see the property again Leaving for LA tomorrow Would like to tell you in person, but if not, thanks for showing me around Always remember, the one person you'll always have to answer to in the end is yourself

Hux braced himself on the edge of the sink, taking in a deep breath as he prepared to clean the dirty skillet. The cold water hissed and beaded the still-hot surface. He began to scrub, the scouring pad rasping back and forth across the blackened surface until he came across a divot. He frowned, picking up the pan and eyeing the crack which had formed between the poorly seasoned pores.

There was no way it was salvageable. He remembered picking up the pan second hand when he had first moved to town; it had been cheap and functional, albeit a bit rusty and worn. He had put in the effort to restore it, first removing the oxidation, then oiling and baking it several times over until the once-pitted surface turned smooth. It was one of the first things he had purchased when he had struck out on his own, but over the years he had grown negligent in its maintenance, the surface turning gummy and porous before it finally broke.

Hux turned it over, feeling its comforting, familiar heft in his hand. It had been his faithful companion every morning for the past ten years.

He figured it was time to find a new one.

~O~

There were no more texts from Ben. By one, Hux's head had felt slightly more attached and his stomach less like the contents had been thrown into a blender and turned on high. He considered calling, but their interaction would likely have been awkward and stilted, and Hux couldn't handle another confrontation with Ben I'm-doing-me Solo while he suffered the lingering effects of last night's indiscretion.

In a way, Hux felt as if he were betraying Ben's trust when he decided to Google his name. He hesitated, hovering over the "images" tab which appeared on the header of the screen. Curiosity eventually won out over shame, and he resigned himself to his treachery as he clicked.

The results came one after the next in rapid succession, flooding his screen. An older, black and white newspaper clipping of the Organa-Solos at a campaign rally showed a young Ben at their side, smiling hesitantly as he waved at the crowd, dressed in a tidy oxford and a pair of pressed khakis. Another caught him mid-bite on the deck at the Seafood Shanty during a summer's night, the chunks of lobster meat sliding halfway out of its roll and onto his plate.

It didn't stop during his adolescent years. The paparazzi had caught every acned outburst, fashion faux-pas, and decade-imposed hairstyle which Ben had endured. One particular gem was snapped as he exited a restaurant, tall and disproportionately limbed, his hair spiked and the tips bleached. He was holding hands with a girl who wore a "Free Winona" T-shirt, and the expression on both their faces as they looked up and saw the cameras was unequivocally one of Fuck You.

The majority of the images were more recent. Pictures of Ben on set, laughing with a co-star in between takes. Ben dressed in a suit at the Emmy's, beautiful yet awkward under all the attention. Ben in a photoshoot for a magazine, his skin airbrushed to perfection, staring out at the reader with an intensity which no amount of photoshopping could hide.

The final one caught Hux's breath. It was a candid shot, taken on the streets of LA. The skies were sunny, and Ben was dressed in a fitted T-shirt and dark skinny jeans, walking with another man by his side. The other male's face was tilted towards Ben, his brown eyes warm and laughing as his mouth spread in a toothy grin. Ben's arm was slung around the shorter male's shoulders, his lips pressed close to the man's ear, as if hovering halfway between an intimate secret and a lover's kiss.

A pang of loneliness filled Hux's heart. He wondered what it would feel like to love someone so openly, and to have it returned. He thought about his own picture from his high school prom. He and Jessika had faced one another, holding hands for the photographer in the middle of the high school gym. She had worn a dreamy look on her face and a ruffled satin dress which showed off her curves. He had worn an ill-fitting tux and a practiced smile, one which never quite reached his eyes.

Hux trudged over to the bathroom mirror. His reflection stared back knowingly. His eyes were pink-tinged and sad, their green irises dulled of any light.

Hux gasped, not realizing that he had been digging his nails into the palms of his clenched fists. Pinpricks of pain flared as the red indentations bloomed, marring his pale flesh. He thought about Ben, so strong and determined, and how he had been able to get underneath Hux's skin.

He closed his eyes, trying to remember what it was to do something more than just float, to be propelled by something more than just the surrounding tide.

What it was to feel.

Hux's eyes flew open once he realized he had to swim.

~O~

It was nearly five by the time Hux had finally reached Boise. He made the right on South Broadway, proceeding half a mile until he came upon the building. It was freestanding-an unassuming storefront, small yet clean. A young man was smoking outside, his long blonde hair falling artlessly across his face. He jeans hung low off his slim hips, and his tank showed off his well-decorated arms. He looked worry free and so impossibly young. Hux guessed that he was no older than his mid-20s.

"Hey." The boy looked up as he caught Hux staring. Piercing blue eyes quickly traveled up and down. "You Hux?" The blonde pursed his lips as he exhaled, the blue smoke swirling around him before disappearing into the air. His hands, despite their delicate appearance, looked strong and skilled.

"Yeah. Are you the guy I spoke with on the phone?"

The guy gave Hux a cocky grin. "Yeah, that's me." He threw the butt down and ground it into the asphalt with his heel. "You ready?"

"Yeah." Hux swallowed uncomfortably. "Look-I forgot to ask. How much is this going to cost? In case I need to get more money..." he trailed off, his face pink.

The blonde smiled, baring his teeth. "It's usually around $100, but it really depends on what you want done. Don't worry, we can negotiate all the details once we get inside."

Hux realized the other male was waiting for him to move indoors. "I'm sorry," Hux said, laughing nervously. "I mean, I've been told that you're one of the best, but this is my first time and-well, you're a lot younger than what I would have thought."

The boy put his arm around Hux's back. When he spoke, his voice had dropped into a confidential whisper, and his words made Hux's body thrum.

"Well, you've got one thing right. I am young, but don't mistake that for inexperience. And I'm not one of the best, I'm the best. All of the virgins around here come to me," he added, smirking as he led Hux inside.

By the time Hux walked out of the building, the full moon had risen over the Boise skyline and the foothills were merely shadows against the night sky. His felt sore, yet sated, exhausted from the flood of adrenaline and endorphins as he basked in the afterglow.

The young man had handed him several packets of ointment before he left, reminding him to wash with a mild soap. But Hux discovered that he actually welcomed the pain. Whenever he moved, it was a constant reminder of what it was to finally feel.

And in that moment, he was starting to feel free.

~O~

Hux awoke the next morning, earlier than usual. He padded to the window, startling a bit when he noted that Piell's cows were facing towards the western mountains instead of their typical position east. He threw on a pair of worn jeans and a comfortably loose shirt and headed outdoors, wincing a bit as he walked.

The sky was a vast blue, yet his shoes remained light and dry, untouched by any dew. He sniffed the air experimentally. His eyes widened at the sharp, pungent charge of ozone which greeted his nostrils, its electric energy rattling his bones.

He walked back inside to start breakfast. He selected three eggs, then replaced two back into their paper carton as he decided to make some griddle cakes instead. He brought out the cornmeal and the flour, mixing the dry ingredients together before adding the buttermilk, egg and honey. The batter slowly turned a creamy beige as he whisked, the mixture thinning as small bubbles formed and popped along its surface.

Hux started as he turned on the heat of the stove. With the excitement of yesterday's events, he had forgotten to purchase a new skillet. The general store would probably have an inexpensive one he could buy in a pinch.

He placed the batter in the refrigerator and headed out, driving twenty minutes east. He slowed as he came upon the open gates of the Heinmot property with its faded For Sale sign still out front. The weathered wood and corrugated copper siding of the main home was easily visible from the road, surrounded by a fenced-in orchard and a matching barn. The landscaped yard fared better than most; the purple blooms of the liatris and the vermillion of the indian paintbrush plants still bloomed, warming the cool greens of the fescue grass. The windows of the Jeep were rolled down, and he could smell the fragrance of the yucca which permeated the air.

Hux pulled over, letting his engine idle as he stared out over the land. He wondered what Ben had thought when he first saw it-whether it had lived up to some crazy fantasy of becoming a gentleman rancher, or whether it had provided him with the solitude and peace which he sought. He knew he was trespassing, but the gates were open, and before he could think about the possible repercussions, he shifted the car into first gear and went through.

The Jeep's tires crunched on the gravel road as it inched slowly forward. The house was framed against the sprawling backdrop of the Sawtooths in the distance, yet perhaps the most beautiful thing was what lay directly ahead.

A figure stood, tall against the darkening sky. Hux could see the singed paper and the burning tobacco leaf which glowed red with each inhalation of those pursed lips. A lump formed in his throat as he took in the bricolage of sharp angles and soft curves, so beguiling in their imperfection, as the man's ebony hair blew wildly in the gusting wind.

Those mercurial eyes, which had stared intently into the distance, widened imperceptibly upon hearing the approaching sound.

Hux swallowed loudly, his mouth suddenly dry.

Ben stared at Hux, before dropping his hand to ash his cigarette. He looked so commanding, even as he was dwarfed by all the vastness, as if this was where he truly belonged.

"Hey," he said slowly, his expression carefully neutral.

"I-I thought you would be out of here by now."

There was a long pause. "I changed my flight," Ben replied, sidestepping the obvious question.

"Oh." Hux's breathing roared in his ears, amplified by the awkward silence. His eyes lowered, taking in Ben's dress, loose and a bit rumpled but still so utterly perfect. He blurted out his first thought, wishing to take it back the second it left his mouth.

"You do own a pair of regular jeans," he said, his face flaming.

"I do," Ben said, a small smile creeping onto his face before his expression turned sad. His voice was ragged when he next spoke.

"I thought you liked me Hux. Me-not Ben Solo, paparazzi fodder, just...me."

"I did," Hux replied. He looked down, ashamed as he scuffed his toe along the ground, kicking up the dry dirt in the process. It was a wonder how anything could grow. "I do," he amended.

Ben's smile grew a bit larger at the admission. "And you came looking for me?" he drawled.

Hux watched him. Ben's expression was a combination of cocky and sweet, yet there was also a yearning in his eyes. "I didn't know you would be here," Hux answered honestly. "I-just missed you." His traitorous body moved a step closer.

"I want you, Hux." Ben's said, his voice thick and rough. "I want to get to know you. I want to be able to show you how great it could be."

Hux stared as Ben flicked the dying cigarette into the ground and leaned forward. His large hands reached over to cup Hux's face, as the sky continued to darken and the clouds began to roll. A crackling of ozone and the scent of the earth filled the air as Hux was consumed by the need for Ben's touch.

"Ben," he choked out as he arched into his grasp.

Their kiss was gentle at first, the tease of soft flesh against one another as the raindrops began to hit. Ben smelled of tobacco and petrichor. A tingling heat spread through Hux's chest in response to his scent.

Hux opened his eyes. His pupils were dilated, and the scattering light of the churning skies turned his irises to a stormy green. Ben watched him fervently, before drawing him back in. He murmured Hux's name, a mantra whispered against his skin, sweet with the taste of the summer rain and the softness of his mouth. Their arms wound around one another as Hux buried his hands in Ben's hair, his fingers carding through those glorious locks as the electricity crackled through the air.

A lightning bolt jolted across the roiling sky, followed by the echoing boom of thunder less than a second apart. Ben grabbed Hux's hands and pulled him towards his car, the growing storm soaking their clothes and muddying their shoes as the trees bent and the grass rippled underneath its force.

"I'd prefer if we didn't become the literal definitions of la petite mort," Ben shouted over the wind. "There's a barn further ahead that we can take shelter in."

Hux wasn't sure how they made it to the sodden structure; their hands and mouths were all over one another, the Porsche swerving erratically along the roughly paved path, its windshield coated thick with rain. By the time they stumbled into the barn, their clothes were completely stuck to their fevered skin.

The remnants of the rain clung to Ben's long lashes and dripped down his throat. Hux took his thumb and wiped it gently along Ben's cheek. His intake of breath was promptly reduced to a moan as Ben turned his head and took him inside his mouth. Ben licked and sucked, his tongue swirling around the callused skin, as Hux's cock hardened sympathetically in response.

Ben shifted, repositioning himself on top as Hux lay down on the soft floor. He licked along the curve of Hux's neck, nipping and mouthing along the vulnerable curve until it developed into a purpling bloom. He ran his hands along Hux's ribs, each tick a syncopated rhythm against the pinging rain, his greedy lips following their path until they were mouthing over Hux's crotch. Hux moaned in response, his hips pressing up desperately as if to force his cock past the constraints of his damp clothing and into the haven of Ben's warm mouth.

Hux growled in response, placing his hand on the placket of Hux's jeans. When he spoke, his voice was trembling with his need.

"Please," he rasped. "Let me taste you. I want to see all of you."

Hux nodded. Ben's hands flew, undoing each button of Hux's fly, each loosed fastening revealing more of the pale pink cock which was hidden underneath. In his eagerness Ben tugged against the waist of Hux's jeans.

Hux let out a hiss of pain as the rough fabric caught his hip.

Ben stopped, uncertainty in his eyes. Hux grit his teeth as he gingerly lowered his jeans.

"Oh my God, Hux. When?" Ben asked, staring at the inky black image and the reddened skin underneath.

Hux flushed. The raised lines of a spiraling nautilus stared back at him, defiantly loud against the background of his pale skin.

"Yesterday afternoon. You said it symbolized protection and intimacy." His eyes met Ben's. "I figured it was a good place to start."

Hux stole a look at Ben's own tattoos, the multiple patterns nearly filling the entire space of his left arm, suddenly self-conscious about the shell's small size and location.

"I figured that I could always expand upon it later, if I wanted. The artist said that he could bring it up the side, or even down into the leg..."

Ben placed a finger against Hux's lips.

"It's perfect," he said, in awe. "And it's so fucking hot." He brushed his lips close to the sensitive skin, the touch teasing and electric as he licked around the edges to take away the pain.

He quickly slid Hux out of his jeans and took him into his mouth, his gorgeous lips stretching wide around Hux's prick. Hux keened under the sensation, the rough and flat swipes along the shaft alternating with the swirling flickers which teased the head. He rolled his hips, unable to stop the whimper which escaped his throat as Ben took him all the way in.

"Ben," Hux whined. With great reluctance, he pulled Ben off his throbbing cock, shivering at the sight of his red and swollen lips.

"I want you to fuck me. I want to come with your cock inside of me," Hux begged.

Ben raised himself up and licked into his mouth. Hux tasted Ben's desire, and the bitter hint of his own pre-come on Ben's tongue.

"You have no idea how much I want that too, Hux. But you're not ready yet." Ben shifted, pressing his considerable length against Hux's thigh. "I'm not exactly small. It will take some time to work up to that, if you're not used to taking it. But we have time for a lot of firsts. And I don't mind bottoming."

Hux's world suddenly tilted upon hearing those words. His brain stuttered over the phrases We have time and A lot of firsts. Because the implication would be...

But in the next breath, any continuation of thought was lost. Ben lowered his Levis, exposing his huge and perfect cock. Hux stared as Ben lay with his back against the floor, his knees bent and falling open to the side.

And after Hux's mind was lost, his breath soon followed, because Ben began laving his fingers with his tongue, slicking them with his spit before inserting those thick fingers up his ass. He worked his digits in and out, his gorgeous, leaking cock slapping against the muscles of his stomach with each thrust.

It was hotter than any video Hux had ever seen. Ben continued to fuck himself with his hand, his eyes growing half-lidded as his mouth dropped open, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on Hux.

Hux suddenly remembered something through the haze of his lust. He scrambled to his jeans, reaching into its pockets before handing several foil packets over to Ben.

"A and D ointment?" Ben asked, craning his neck. He laughed, his fingers suddenly still. "Makes more sense to carry around your back pocket instead of something impractical like spare change."

Hux made a moue.

"For your information, I was given them to take care of the tattoo," he said as he opened another, slathering the contents over his own cock.

"I like this use much better." Ben's voice lowered dangerously, no longer a teasing growl. "Come here." He had finished prepping himself with the ointment. His hole lay exposed and open, the pink and furled edges loosened and glistening wet.

Oh God. Hux squeezed his cock to prevent himself from coming right then and there. He leaned forward, his heart racing as he positioned his prick.

After twenty nine years, this was really happening. This was really it.

He pushed in slowly, hesitating at the resistance before he breached that tight ring of muscle. At Ben's encouraging look, he slid further in. He gasped at the heat and friction which welcomed him, inching in slowly as Ben urged him on.

Hux gave an experimental swivel of his hips.

"Fuck," he gritted out, holding still.

Ben laughed shakily. "I'm all for sweet and slow, Hux, but if you don't move right now..."

And then Hux did. He moved into Ben's warmth, marveling at the way it sheathed his dick, the muscles of his ass gripping him perfectly as he pistoned inside those velvety walls. Ben's eyes grew dark, his head arching as he wrapped his long legs around Hux's waist. Hux fucked him as the rain drummed its primal beat, surrounded by the earthy smells of the wet hay and the damp wood, their bodies fitting perfectly against one another, slicked by the rain and their sweat.

"I'm so close," Ben moaned as he reached down to grab his cock. He pumped the shaft, its size barely contained in his huge fist. Hux tensed, trying to match his thrusts with the frantic movements of Ben's hand. His vision whitened and heart pounded as he tried to stave off the building pressure inside his groin, unable to hold back any further when Ben finally came with a shout. The thick ropes of come spurted over his belly and onto his chest, and Hux followed afterwards, filling Ben's ass with his own release.

Hux gave several more feeble pumps before his legs gave out in protest. He collapsed on top of Ben, their bodies a tangle of sticky fluids and sore limbs.

Ben stroked Hux's shoulder and pressed a kiss against his ear. Hux felt his softening cock slip; he sighed as he removed himself slowly, before curling back against Ben's side.

"Better than your other first time?" Ben asked. His warm breath ruffled the strands of hair surrounding Hux's face.

"Hmmmm." Hux considered teasingly as he looked up at Ben from underneath his pale lashes. "I'm not sure. I may have to give it another go to make sure. Purely for the sake of decision making, that is."

Ben laughed quietly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest. They lay together, listening to the steadiness of the falling rain and the guttural calls of a white-tailed kite in the distance, it chattering whistle soaring above the synchronized beating of their hearts.

"You know, I put in an offer on this place." Ben said softly.

Hux lifted his head, his heart suddenly caught in his throat.

"You did? Do you think you'll get it?"

Ben shrugged nonchalantly even as his fingers curled protectively over Hux's own.

"There's a good chance. It's been on the market for years. I think it was a fair offer, all things considering."

Hux lay back down. He snuggled against his tall length, memorizing the rise and fall of Ben's chest, and the steadiness of his heart.

He doesn't know what will happen, what the future of their relationship, if any, will hold. But for the first time in many years, Hux feels the stirrings of hope.

When he closes his eyes, he sees a road. It beckons to him. It is blocked by a gate, but the path beyond it lies open and full of promise.

Hux takes a deep breath as he contemplates his next move.

He walks forward. He lifts his head proudly and smiles, his hand unwavering as he finally pushes through.