Today is a light day. The fog is thin enough that he can move around, and his thought not so muddled that he cannot focus on one of his books.
This one about the Empire, and Darth Vader. Ben likes Darth Vader, he is the only one in his family whom it is safe to think about. There had been a time, before, when it was the other way around. When he couldn’t talk about him too much without his mother and father growing worried, and…
And that is enough for now. He should stop, because the fog is getting much too thin and -
And it is hot, hot, hot out here, and the parts he has managed to scavenge aren’t worth much - at least, not according to Plutt, who is always trying to cheat them anyway. But it is enough for portions, and -
He shakes his head, trying to chase the vision away. They have been happening more and more lately, no matter how hard he tries to block them out, to not think of outside the Room. The only thing that truly works is the fog, and even then it seems to grow weaker and weaker.
He told Phasma as much, the last time she came with the syringe. Calm Phasma, good Phasma, who was always so kind to Ben even though she did not love him. Not like Hux.
“That is troubling news,” she had said as she pressed down the plunger. “Thank you for telling me. I will inform the General.”
The fog was coming on quickly, but not quite as fast as it used to. It gave Ben enough time to think, to ask the question he had always had for her. “Why…” he had slurred, “why do you help him? Keep me hidden… safe…”
His tongue had grown heavy at the end, and he couldn’t quite finish after all. But it was fine, because Phasma was smart, and she listened, so she knew what to answer.
“The General has made his wishes clear,” she answered, standing up. “And although some may argue that his want for you is a weakness, there is no denying that he more… at peace, with you around. It improves his leadership considerably.”
Ben couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything to respond. His vision was so, so blurry, and the fog was so thick barely anything came through. Still, he could feel Phasma’s eyes upon him, felt her gently move him into a more comfortable position.
That was kind of her.
He really likes Phasma.
The door opens, and Hux steps in. There is a spring in his step - well, as much as there can be in someone as controlled as his General. Green eyes meet his, and the grin Ben receives is very nearly warm.
That is just for Ben. Only ever Ben. Hux said so.
“Hello,” he greets with a soft smile, reaching his hand out towards the redhead. Hux grabs it, pulls him up so that Ben clumsily stumbles into his arms.
He is in a good mood then. A very good mood. That doesn’t happen often.
Hux chuckles when Ben says as much. “But today has been wonderfully productive. Everything is coming together.” He nuzzles Ben’s neck. “Starkiller is complete. The long searched for map all but acquired.”
“That’s good,” Ben mumbles distractedly, because he knows that’s the answer Hux wants. He allows himself to be pulled down towards the chair again, only this time he lands on Hux’s lap.
“Indeed,” Hux answers as he wraps his arms around Ben’s waist. “We’ve captured a member of the Resistance. It is only a matter of time before he gives us the information we need to find Skywalker.”
Ben freezes.
This is… bad? Good? Hux is happy, and that makes is good. Ben likes it when Hux is joyful, it makes him more tender, more open in his affection. He pets more, kisses more, sometimes even tickles Ben. His eyes turn a lovely bright green.
A happy Hux is a good thing.
But the Resistance… But Skywalker… Those are all from before, the bad, the complicated, and some part of Ben is terrified, because if Hux finds them then he will kill them, and he won’t be there this time, he won’t be able to….
He squeezes his eyes shut, grateful that Hux cannot see his face. If he did, he would see how tense it has become, how Ben bites his lips. There is something building up inside, it is a scream, it is memories, and if it continues he will rip everything apart again.
He will rip and tear and claw at his books, his sheets, his clothes ; and maybe, an awful part of him whispers, maybe he’ll claw at Hux.
“Who is it?” He blurts out, even if he knows Hux won’t like him asking. Hux would like him raging even less, and talking is the only thing Ben can do to distract his own mind.
Predictably, Hux sighs. “You only bring misery upon yourself,” he chides, before adding knowingly, “Though I suppose it is preferable to your tantrums.”
Ben should have known better.
His General is so perceptive.
The arms around his midsection tighten. “He is a pilot,” Hux says, though reluctantly. “Poe Dameron, I believe his name is.”
Poe.
Ben whimpers.
“I know him,” he moans, curling in on himself.
He is going to cry again.
Sighing once again, Hux gently flips him over. With two fingers under Ben’s chin, he lifts his head until Ben’s eyes meet his.
Hux’s face is a blank mask, where before he had been so happy.
Ben ruins everything.
“You’re going to hurt him,” he says, vision blurring from his tears.
“Probably,” Hux answers, voice cold. “Do you want to stop me?”
Ben doesn’t answer.
A single tear escapes his eyes, leaving a hot trail down his cheek.
“I do this all for the two of us,” he continues, whipping Ben’s face with his thumb. “When I am Emperor, you will be able to leave this room. You will be by my side always, and I will give you everything you could ever ask for. With me, always. Don’t you want that?”
With a hiccupping sob, Ben nods.
“Then let me do what I must.” His hand comes to cup the back of Ben’s head. “Do you trust me for that?”
Ben cannot speak, his throat is so, so tight, but he cannot not answer either. So he leans forward, presses his lips against Hux’s. His General hums in pleasure, opens his mouth and lets Ben in.
When Hux pulls back for air Ben peppers his face with kisses, down his neck and on the crook of his shoulder, a silent apology that Hux graciously accepts.
After that, they say nothing, Ben collapsed against Hux as the general slowly strokes his head. There is bliss in that silence, a non thinking state that Ben craves right now.
He had come so close to ruining everything.
And even now, he feels more drained than at peace.
“I need the syringe,” he mumbles against Hux’s neck, clinging to his shoulders as he tries so desperately to hide from everything. “Please.”
He has to hide. Stay safe. In the Room.
Hux said so. Ben promised.
What is there outside the Room anyway? What is there beyond the fog?
Screams. Blood. Death. The voice in the Dark and the pain it brought.
And other things as well, but those are the things he doesn’t think about even more than the others, because they make him hurt in a way that he cannot handle, and it doesn’t matter so long as Hux is there and he stays in the Room.
Hux kisses the crown of his head. “If you wish. You were almost due for another anyway. I can call Phasma, and -”
“No,” Ben interrupts with a whine. “No, you. Can it be you, please?”
Ben really likes Phasma.
He likes Hux more.
Another kiss. “Of course,” Hux reassures, stroking Ben’s back in slow, regular movements. “Do you want it right away?”
Ben cannot speak anymore. He nods.
Of course, that means getting up to let Hux get the syringe. He does so, reluctantly, and as soon as he is back Ben pulls him down on the bed, nuzzling against him even as he presents his arm.
There is the quick sting, the burn, and then the fog. Ben clings to Hux as he goes under, the feeling of Hux’s fingers in his hair the only thing that matters.
Fill 3/?: Hux/Ben Solo: Hux was obsessed with Ben and locked him away
Today is a light day. The fog is thin enough that he can move around, and his thought not so muddled that he cannot focus on one of his books.
This one about the Empire, and Darth Vader. Ben likes Darth Vader, he is the only one in his family whom it is safe to think about. There had been a time, before, when it was the other way around. When he couldn’t talk about him too much without his mother and father growing worried, and…
And that is enough for now. He should stop, because the fog is getting much too thin and -
And it is hot, hot, hot out here, and the parts he has managed to scavenge aren’t worth much - at least, not according to Plutt, who is always trying to cheat them anyway. But it is enough for portions, and -
He shakes his head, trying to chase the vision away. They have been happening more and more lately, no matter how hard he tries to block them out, to not think of outside the Room. The only thing that truly works is the fog, and even then it seems to grow weaker and weaker.
He told Phasma as much, the last time she came with the syringe. Calm Phasma, good Phasma, who was always so kind to Ben even though she did not love him. Not like Hux.
“That is troubling news,” she had said as she pressed down the plunger. “Thank you for telling me. I will inform the General.”
The fog was coming on quickly, but not quite as fast as it used to. It gave Ben enough time to think, to ask the question he had always had for her. “Why…” he had slurred, “why do you help him? Keep me hidden… safe…”
His tongue had grown heavy at the end, and he couldn’t quite finish after all. But it was fine, because Phasma was smart, and she listened, so she knew what to answer.
“The General has made his wishes clear,” she answered, standing up. “And although some may argue that his want for you is a weakness, there is no denying that he more… at peace, with you around. It improves his leadership considerably.”
Ben couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything to respond. His vision was so, so blurry, and the fog was so thick barely anything came through. Still, he could feel Phasma’s eyes upon him, felt her gently move him into a more comfortable position.
That was kind of her.
He really likes Phasma.
The door opens, and Hux steps in. There is a spring in his step - well, as much as there can be in someone as controlled as his General. Green eyes meet his, and the grin Ben receives is very nearly warm.
That is just for Ben. Only ever Ben. Hux said so.
“Hello,” he greets with a soft smile, reaching his hand out towards the redhead. Hux grabs it, pulls him up so that Ben clumsily stumbles into his arms.
He is in a good mood then. A very good mood. That doesn’t happen often.
Hux chuckles when Ben says as much. “But today has been wonderfully productive. Everything is coming together.” He nuzzles Ben’s neck. “Starkiller is complete. The long searched for map all but acquired.”
“That’s good,” Ben mumbles distractedly, because he knows that’s the answer Hux wants. He allows himself to be pulled down towards the chair again, only this time he lands on Hux’s lap.
“Indeed,” Hux answers as he wraps his arms around Ben’s waist. “We’ve captured a member of the Resistance. It is only a matter of time before he gives us the information we need to find Skywalker.”
Ben freezes.
This is… bad? Good? Hux is happy, and that makes is good. Ben likes it when Hux is joyful, it makes him more tender, more open in his affection. He pets more, kisses more, sometimes even tickles Ben. His eyes turn a lovely bright green.
A happy Hux is a good thing.
But the Resistance… But Skywalker… Those are all from before, the bad, the complicated, and some part of Ben is terrified, because if Hux finds them then he will kill them, and he won’t be there this time, he won’t be able to….
He squeezes his eyes shut, grateful that Hux cannot see his face. If he did, he would see how tense it has become, how Ben bites his lips. There is something building up inside, it is a scream, it is memories, and if it continues he will rip everything apart again.
He will rip and tear and claw at his books, his sheets, his clothes ; and maybe, an awful part of him whispers, maybe he’ll claw at Hux.
“Who is it?” He blurts out, even if he knows Hux won’t like him asking. Hux would like him raging even less, and talking is the only thing Ben can do to distract his own mind.
Predictably, Hux sighs. “You only bring misery upon yourself,” he chides, before adding knowingly, “Though I suppose it is preferable to your tantrums.”
Ben should have known better.
His General is so perceptive.
The arms around his midsection tighten. “He is a pilot,” Hux says, though reluctantly. “Poe Dameron, I believe his name is.”
Poe.
Ben whimpers.
“I know him,” he moans, curling in on himself.
He is going to cry again.
Sighing once again, Hux gently flips him over. With two fingers under Ben’s chin, he lifts his head until Ben’s eyes meet his.
Hux’s face is a blank mask, where before he had been so happy.
Ben ruins everything.
“You’re going to hurt him,” he says, vision blurring from his tears.
“Probably,” Hux answers, voice cold. “Do you want to stop me?”
Ben doesn’t answer.
A single tear escapes his eyes, leaving a hot trail down his cheek.
“I do this all for the two of us,” he continues, whipping Ben’s face with his thumb. “When I am Emperor, you will be able to leave this room. You will be by my side always, and I will give you everything you could ever ask for. With me, always. Don’t you want that?”
With a hiccupping sob, Ben nods.
“Then let me do what I must.” His hand comes to cup the back of Ben’s head. “Do you trust me for that?”
Ben cannot speak, his throat is so, so tight, but he cannot not answer either. So he leans forward, presses his lips against Hux’s. His General hums in pleasure, opens his mouth and lets Ben in.
When Hux pulls back for air Ben peppers his face with kisses, down his neck and on the crook of his shoulder, a silent apology that Hux graciously accepts.
After that, they say nothing, Ben collapsed against Hux as the general slowly strokes his head. There is bliss in that silence, a non thinking state that Ben craves right now.
He had come so close to ruining everything.
And even now, he feels more drained than at peace.
“I need the syringe,” he mumbles against Hux’s neck, clinging to his shoulders as he tries so desperately to hide from everything. “Please.”
He has to hide. Stay safe. In the Room.
Hux said so. Ben promised.
What is there outside the Room anyway? What is there beyond the fog?
Screams. Blood. Death. The voice in the Dark and the pain it brought.
And other things as well, but those are the things he doesn’t think about even more than the others, because they make him hurt in a way that he cannot handle, and it doesn’t matter so long as Hux is there and he stays in the Room.
Hux kisses the crown of his head. “If you wish. You were almost due for another anyway. I can call Phasma, and -”
“No,” Ben interrupts with a whine. “No, you. Can it be you, please?”
Ben really likes Phasma.
He likes Hux more.
Another kiss. “Of course,” Hux reassures, stroking Ben’s back in slow, regular movements. “Do you want it right away?”
Ben cannot speak anymore. He nods.
Of course, that means getting up to let Hux get the syringe. He does so, reluctantly, and as soon as he is back Ben pulls him down on the bed, nuzzling against him even as he presents his arm.
There is the quick sting, the burn, and then the fog. Ben clings to Hux as he goes under, the feeling of Hux’s fingers in his hair the only thing that matters.