[A/N: Hey, nonny! This is also slightly inspired by the second comment to your prompt, which was just… delicious. I hope you enjoy!]
Academy Style
Frankly, General Hux has been expecting his antagonistic relationship with Lord Ren to take a physical turn for quite some time now. The fact that the turn has turned out to be sexual is vastly preferable to the outright violence he’d been predicting. Hux may be ambitious, but he’s also a realist, and he doesn’t fancy his chances in a fight with a Force user with poor impulse control.
What Hux did not expect, when Ren shoved him against the wall of this supply closet, stuck his tongue down his throat, and starting grinding against him desperately, was the monstrous size of Ren’s cock.
Hux eyes it in his hand warily, before glancing up at Ren. “That’s not going to fit in me,” he says. Hux is still mostly clothed, although his jacket and shirt are open, and Ren’s merely dropped his leggings underneath his cape, cloak, and tunic, pulling his tunic up high enough to expose himself.
“That’s not what you were saying a moment ago,” Ren says, as he undoes Hux’s belt.
“It’s not a question of desire, it’s a question of logistics.” Hux wraps both of his hands around Ren’s cock—as he expected, there’s plenty left over. Ren is a big man, but this is… this is just excessive.
Ren chuckles darkly and kisses Hux’s neck as he tugs Hux’s pants and undergarments down his hips, freeing his reasonably but respectably sized cock. “The great general, afraid of a little challenge?”
Ren splays a gloved hand over Hux’s stomach. His stomach contracts at the feel of the rough leather on his sensitive skin. He bites back a groan. “That’s not a little challenge.”
“Mmm,” Ren grunts noncommittally, and kisses him, squeezing his waist, rubbing his thumbs into the divots of Hux’s hips. Hux is not a small man, but Ren is making him feel that way. He hates that even as it makes his cock ache. “Turn around,” Ren says, breaking the kiss to breathe in Hux’s ear.
Hux grimaces. “I told you, you’re not—”
“You can’t take it, I know,” Ren says, grinding gently against him to make his breathing hitch. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”
Hux eyes him warily, but turns, slowly. Ren slides his still-gloved hands over Hux’s stomach, pressing their bodies together, hooking his chin over Hux’s shoulder. His breath is hot on the side of Hux’s face. Ren begins to suck and bite at the joining of his neck and shoulders, sucking a bruise into the perfect spot for the collar of Hux’s uniform to brush against whenever he moves. An obvious maneuver, Hux thinks, as his cock leaks at the feeling of Ren’s wet mouth on his skin, but an effective one.
Ren slides his right hand up Hux’s chest to his own mouth. Out of the corner of Hux’s eye, he makes out Ren biting the fingers of his glove to pull it off. For a moment, Hux is seized by the idea of Ren stuffing his glove in his mouth to keep him quiet, but Ren, disappointingly, spits it to the floor.
He pulls his bare hand back, barely brushing against Hux’s skin. With his still-gloved left hand, he tweaks Hux’s left nipple, eliciting a groan. Then that hand withdraws as well.
There’s a clink of metal, a rustle of fabric, and the crass sound of Ren spitting into his hand. Hux feels Ren’s erection, wet with precome, rubbing at the cleft of his ass. “Ren,” he hisses, but then Ren’s spit-wet fingers are rubbing roughly at the meat of his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against Hux’s balls. Hux lets his head drop as he shudders, bracing himself against the wall by his forearms.
It takes Ren another pass to be satisfied with the state of Hux’s thighs, and then Ren pulls back, just enough for his cock to slide leisurely down the curve of Hux’s ass. Hux tenses for a moment, but then Ren pushes his cock between his thighs, cock head snagging on his testicles. Hux groans.
Ren presses his chest to Hux’s back, sliding his hands around Hux’s hips, resuming his previous position to nip at Hux’s ear. He’s ditched the remaining glove, to Hux’s disappointment. Ren thrusts experimentally between Hux’s legs, and makes a groaning noise that goes straight to Hux’s cock.
“You must be used to this,” Ren purrs, patronizingly, into Hux’s ear. He wraps a rough hand around Hux’s leaking cock. Hux swallows, thickly. “Academy style.”
Hux rolls his eyes. As if he’s not over a decade out of the Academy and more women than men have shared his bed in that time. He’s not actually familiar with this style, although he would never admit that to Ren. It never seemed worthwhile, when he took the trouble to take a male lover—the whole point, in Hux’s eyes, was to feel them, deep inside, not let them come on your thighs.
“Clench your thighs,” Ren orders. Hux presses his knees together and obeys. Ren makes another delicious groaning noise, making Hux’s cock ache. It feels like he’s riding Ren’s cock. Although with Ren’s sheer size, it’s more like straddling, Hux mentally corrects himself.
He feels swallowed up, acted upon, in a way that Ren actually fucking him wouldn’t feel. He can’t do much of anything but just let Ren take his pleasure on him. That’s not something he’d normally cede to Ren, but in this context, in this supply closet in the dead of ship’s night, it makes him ache, leak, and moan softly against the wall, its black, shining surface fogging with his breath.
“You’re so big,” Hux says, stupidly. He feels Ren’s teeth press against his shoulder—he’s smirking at him.
“I know,” Ren says, into his ear. “But I think you could take it. If you put your back into it.” Ren presses his thumb into Hux’s slit, and Hux gasps at the pressure, his eyes rolling back into his head.
He’s caught between Ren’s cock thrusting between his thighs, Ren’s hand working his cock, and Ren’s low, deep voice in his ear. His cock is aching so hard that his balls are tingling. “I’d have to work you open, first, with my fingers, just to stretch out that tight hole of yours. Regularly. I’d sneak you into supply closets and locked rooms just to finger you until you came screaming my name.”
Hux moans at the idea. “Sounds like—ah!—sounds like it would take some time,” he murmurs. His legs are starting to shake with the effort of keeping his thighs clenched around Ren’s cock. “Days. Weeks.”
“It’d be worth it,” Ren says. He’s starting to pant, his voice fraying at the edges, not unlike his helmet’s vocal distorter. “And then once I’d gotten you open, I’d plug you up with something, get you used to it. We’d have start small and work our way up. You’re probably so tight, you’d have to wear it all day.”
The idea of walking the halls of the Finalizer with something Ren shoved up him heavy in his hole makes Hux’s head swim. He grinds back on Ren as much as he’s able. “You should probably fuck me with those things before you leave them in me,” he offers.
Ren’s hips stutter, and his hand tightens on Hux’s cock. Hux hisses and fucks into Ren’s fist. “And then you’d be able to take this,” Ren says. Ren pulls back, dragging the head of his cock along Hux’s perineum—Hux tries to press against it, desperate for any pressure on his prostate—and then presses it against Hux’s hole, rubbing it up and down the cleft of his ass.
Hux struggles to stay upright, seized by both a bodily panic at the size of Ren’s cock and lust at the idea of being able to take Ren’s cock, stretched to his limit and made sore for days just for the privilege of being able to clench down around Ren and make him scream. “I’d feed it into you slowly, let you adjust.”
“And then?” Hux prompts. He can feel his balls tightening—he’s getting close. Ren thrusts back into his already dripping thighs, and Hux clenches around him. It’s close to what he wants, but it’s not close enough.
“And then I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to stand up the next day,” Ren growls. “I’d come in you so hard you’d overflow. You’d be dripping with my come. Is that what you want, General?”
Hux groans at the use of his title in conjunction with the idea of being full of Ren’s come. Oh, if he could take Ren’s cock without tearing in half, he would. “Yes,” Hux hisses, and he turns his head to kiss Ren savagely.
After that, they fall silent, lost to the rhythm they’ve set. Ren comes, Hux’s thighs clenching around him, streaking Hux’s inner thighs with his seed. It’s a strange, wet feeling, to have his thighs soaked in Ren’s come, one that makes him ache. Hux fucks desperately into Ren’s fist, panting and whining, heedless of how wanton and wet he looks.
“You look good like that,” Ren sneers into his ear. “But I’d prefer to see my come dripping out of you.”
Hux comes with a whine at the idea of Ren’s come dribbling out of his red, overstretched hole, splattering the wall.
Ren recedes from him, leaving him cold, shaking, and suddenly aware that he’s still mostly dressed. Ren’s rapidly cooling come drips down his thighs. He presses his forehead to the cool steel of the wall. This could get out of hand, if he’s not careful.
He startles when Ren presses some rough fabric between his legs. “That better not be a rag covered in blaster oil,” Hux says, but it’s without heat. Ren says nothing as he finishes cleaning up Hux. He throws the come-soaked rag on the floor and pulls the tangle of Hux’s trousers and undergarments up, tucking him back in smartly. Ren’s bare hand on his oversensitive cock makes Hux’s mouth go dry.
Hux straightens up and refastens his shirt and jacket. As suspected, Ren’s bite has blossomed into a bruise that brushes up against his collar. He bites his lip at the feel of it. It’ll be worse tomorrow. He’ll feel it every time he turns his head.
Hux turns around and faces Ren. Ren is already dressed, helmet in his hands. They regard each other for a moment. Hux is uncomfortably aware of what he’s just done and with whom.
Hux coughs and makes for the door. Ren reaches out a powerful arm, hooking him by the waist. “Well,” Ren says, casually, “shall we start your training tomorrow?”
FILL: Kylo/Hux - Kylo is just, too big.
Academy Style
Frankly, General Hux has been expecting his antagonistic relationship with Lord Ren to take a physical turn for quite some time now. The fact that the turn has turned out to be sexual is vastly preferable to the outright violence he’d been predicting. Hux may be ambitious, but he’s also a realist, and he doesn’t fancy his chances in a fight with a Force user with poor impulse control.
What Hux did not expect, when Ren shoved him against the wall of this supply closet, stuck his tongue down his throat, and starting grinding against him desperately, was the monstrous size of Ren’s cock.
Hux eyes it in his hand warily, before glancing up at Ren. “That’s not going to fit in me,” he says. Hux is still mostly clothed, although his jacket and shirt are open, and Ren’s merely dropped his leggings underneath his cape, cloak, and tunic, pulling his tunic up high enough to expose himself.
“That’s not what you were saying a moment ago,” Ren says, as he undoes Hux’s belt.
“It’s not a question of desire, it’s a question of logistics.” Hux wraps both of his hands around Ren’s cock—as he expected, there’s plenty left over. Ren is a big man, but this is… this is just excessive.
Ren chuckles darkly and kisses Hux’s neck as he tugs Hux’s pants and undergarments down his hips, freeing his reasonably but respectably sized cock. “The great general, afraid of a little challenge?”
Ren splays a gloved hand over Hux’s stomach. His stomach contracts at the feel of the rough leather on his sensitive skin. He bites back a groan. “That’s not a little challenge.”
“Mmm,” Ren grunts noncommittally, and kisses him, squeezing his waist, rubbing his thumbs into the divots of Hux’s hips. Hux is not a small man, but Ren is making him feel that way. He hates that even as it makes his cock ache. “Turn around,” Ren says, breaking the kiss to breathe in Hux’s ear.
Hux grimaces. “I told you, you’re not—”
“You can’t take it, I know,” Ren says, grinding gently against him to make his breathing hitch. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”
Hux eyes him warily, but turns, slowly. Ren slides his still-gloved hands over Hux’s stomach, pressing their bodies together, hooking his chin over Hux’s shoulder. His breath is hot on the side of Hux’s face. Ren begins to suck and bite at the joining of his neck and shoulders, sucking a bruise into the perfect spot for the collar of Hux’s uniform to brush against whenever he moves. An obvious maneuver, Hux thinks, as his cock leaks at the feeling of Ren’s wet mouth on his skin, but an effective one.
Ren slides his right hand up Hux’s chest to his own mouth. Out of the corner of Hux’s eye, he makes out Ren biting the fingers of his glove to pull it off. For a moment, Hux is seized by the idea of Ren stuffing his glove in his mouth to keep him quiet, but Ren, disappointingly, spits it to the floor.
He pulls his bare hand back, barely brushing against Hux’s skin. With his still-gloved left hand, he tweaks Hux’s left nipple, eliciting a groan. Then that hand withdraws as well.
There’s a clink of metal, a rustle of fabric, and the crass sound of Ren spitting into his hand. Hux feels Ren’s erection, wet with precome, rubbing at the cleft of his ass. “Ren,” he hisses, but then Ren’s spit-wet fingers are rubbing roughly at the meat of his inner thigh, knuckles brushing against Hux’s balls. Hux lets his head drop as he shudders, bracing himself against the wall by his forearms.
It takes Ren another pass to be satisfied with the state of Hux’s thighs, and then Ren pulls back, just enough for his cock to slide leisurely down the curve of Hux’s ass. Hux tenses for a moment, but then Ren pushes his cock between his thighs, cock head snagging on his testicles. Hux groans.
Ren presses his chest to Hux’s back, sliding his hands around Hux’s hips, resuming his previous position to nip at Hux’s ear. He’s ditched the remaining glove, to Hux’s disappointment. Ren thrusts experimentally between Hux’s legs, and makes a groaning noise that goes straight to Hux’s cock.
“You must be used to this,” Ren purrs, patronizingly, into Hux’s ear. He wraps a rough hand around Hux’s leaking cock. Hux swallows, thickly. “Academy style.”
Hux rolls his eyes. As if he’s not over a decade out of the Academy and more women than men have shared his bed in that time. He’s not actually familiar with this style, although he would never admit that to Ren. It never seemed worthwhile, when he took the trouble to take a male lover—the whole point, in Hux’s eyes, was to feel them, deep inside, not let them come on your thighs.
“Clench your thighs,” Ren orders. Hux presses his knees together and obeys. Ren makes another delicious groaning noise, making Hux’s cock ache. It feels like he’s riding Ren’s cock. Although with Ren’s sheer size, it’s more like straddling, Hux mentally corrects himself.
He feels swallowed up, acted upon, in a way that Ren actually fucking him wouldn’t feel. He can’t do much of anything but just let Ren take his pleasure on him. That’s not something he’d normally cede to Ren, but in this context, in this supply closet in the dead of ship’s night, it makes him ache, leak, and moan softly against the wall, its black, shining surface fogging with his breath.
“You’re so big,” Hux says, stupidly. He feels Ren’s teeth press against his shoulder—he’s smirking at him.
“I know,” Ren says, into his ear. “But I think you could take it. If you put your back into it.” Ren presses his thumb into Hux’s slit, and Hux gasps at the pressure, his eyes rolling back into his head.
He’s caught between Ren’s cock thrusting between his thighs, Ren’s hand working his cock, and Ren’s low, deep voice in his ear. His cock is aching so hard that his balls are tingling. “I’d have to work you open, first, with my fingers, just to stretch out that tight hole of yours. Regularly. I’d sneak you into supply closets and locked rooms just to finger you until you came screaming my name.”
Hux moans at the idea. “Sounds like—ah!—sounds like it would take some time,” he murmurs. His legs are starting to shake with the effort of keeping his thighs clenched around Ren’s cock. “Days. Weeks.”
“It’d be worth it,” Ren says. He’s starting to pant, his voice fraying at the edges, not unlike his helmet’s vocal distorter. “And then once I’d gotten you open, I’d plug you up with something, get you used to it. We’d have start small and work our way up. You’re probably so tight, you’d have to wear it all day.”
The idea of walking the halls of the Finalizer with something Ren shoved up him heavy in his hole makes Hux’s head swim. He grinds back on Ren as much as he’s able. “You should probably fuck me with those things before you leave them in me,” he offers.
Ren’s hips stutter, and his hand tightens on Hux’s cock. Hux hisses and fucks into Ren’s fist. “And then you’d be able to take this,” Ren says. Ren pulls back, dragging the head of his cock along Hux’s perineum—Hux tries to press against it, desperate for any pressure on his prostate—and then presses it against Hux’s hole, rubbing it up and down the cleft of his ass.
Hux struggles to stay upright, seized by both a bodily panic at the size of Ren’s cock and lust at the idea of being able to take Ren’s cock, stretched to his limit and made sore for days just for the privilege of being able to clench down around Ren and make him scream. “I’d feed it into you slowly, let you adjust.”
“And then?” Hux prompts. He can feel his balls tightening—he’s getting close. Ren thrusts back into his already dripping thighs, and Hux clenches around him. It’s close to what he wants, but it’s not close enough.
“And then I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to stand up the next day,” Ren growls. “I’d come in you so hard you’d overflow. You’d be dripping with my come. Is that what you want, General?”
Hux groans at the use of his title in conjunction with the idea of being full of Ren’s come. Oh, if he could take Ren’s cock without tearing in half, he would. “Yes,” Hux hisses, and he turns his head to kiss Ren savagely.
After that, they fall silent, lost to the rhythm they’ve set. Ren comes, Hux’s thighs clenching around him, streaking Hux’s inner thighs with his seed. It’s a strange, wet feeling, to have his thighs soaked in Ren’s come, one that makes him ache. Hux fucks desperately into Ren’s fist, panting and whining, heedless of how wanton and wet he looks.
“You look good like that,” Ren sneers into his ear. “But I’d prefer to see my come dripping out of you.”
Hux comes with a whine at the idea of Ren’s come dribbling out of his red, overstretched hole, splattering the wall.
Ren recedes from him, leaving him cold, shaking, and suddenly aware that he’s still mostly dressed. Ren’s rapidly cooling come drips down his thighs. He presses his forehead to the cool steel of the wall. This could get out of hand, if he’s not careful.
He startles when Ren presses some rough fabric between his legs. “That better not be a rag covered in blaster oil,” Hux says, but it’s without heat. Ren says nothing as he finishes cleaning up Hux. He throws the come-soaked rag on the floor and pulls the tangle of Hux’s trousers and undergarments up, tucking him back in smartly. Ren’s bare hand on his oversensitive cock makes Hux’s mouth go dry.
Hux straightens up and refastens his shirt and jacket. As suspected, Ren’s bite has blossomed into a bruise that brushes up against his collar. He bites his lip at the feel of it. It’ll be worse tomorrow. He’ll feel it every time he turns his head.
Hux turns around and faces Ren. Ren is already dressed, helmet in his hands. They regard each other for a moment. Hux is uncomfortably aware of what he’s just done and with whom.
Hux coughs and makes for the door. Ren reaches out a powerful arm, hooking him by the waist. “Well,” Ren says, casually, “shall we start your training tomorrow?”