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tfa_kink2016-02-26 05:03 pm
themodawakens) wrote in tfa_kink2016-02-26 05:03 pm
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PROMPT POST #4
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prompt post one
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Fill: The Emperor's New Clothes, 3b/4-ish
(Anonymous) 2016-04-27 12:27 pm (UTC)(link)“So you do have a mirror, somewhere,” Hux pointed out. “And here I thought I was just going to have to take your word that I look good.”
“Oh,” Ren said, and had his voice always been so – so sultry? “But you do look good.”
Only the many, many years of practice keeping a blank face reporting to the creature he wanted to murder allowed Hux not to shiver at those words – and even then, it was damn close.
He blinked, his mind a trembling mess. Was Ren coming on to him? They’d spent the entirety of their acquaintance, short as it was, arguing the whole time. But that certainly wasn’t stopping Hux’s own stupid self from finding Ren attractive, so why couldn’t it go both ways? Then again, it was Ren; Hux had perhaps never met anyone as self-observed as the man standing in front of him. He’d probably meant that his clothes made Hux look good – yes, that must have been it. He’d been complimenting himself.
Ren, meanwhile, had the gall to keep staring at him with a crocked eyebrow and a half smile on his lips. Good to know someone was having fun.
“Now, you should put one of these on,” Ren said, pointing to the display table. There were three pair of shoes arranged next to the remaining clothes – a pair of black ankle boots, much lighter and smaller than the military-inspired model Hux often wore; and two pairs of elegant dress shoes, one polished black and the other a brown so rich it shined mahogany under the morning light streaming in from the suite’s big windows.
“They’re all store-bought, I’m afraid,” Ren continued, mouth turning as if he’d tasted something foul. “But the size should fit you. I brought along a shoemaker, of course, but considering you still haven’t made time to see my hair stylist – ”
“I didn’t have time to meet with your hair stylist, Ren, I’ve got an Empire to run –”
“Are you going to put a pair of shoes on, or shall I do that for you?”
Hux’s mouth snapped shut and he was transfixed by the mental image of Kylo Ren putting Hux’s shoes on – he would have to kneel down for that, wouldn’t he? That long back arched, bright wide eyes looking up at Hux from under that nest of curls, soft-looking mouth twisting around some cruel jab or the other.
“I can do that myself, thank you,” he snapped at Ren. “Go fetch that mirror from wherever you hid it, I don’t have all morning.”
Ren laughed, a deep, rich laugh that made something inside him tremble a bit. “As you command,” he said and, Oh, stars, he must be doing that on purpose, the dirty fucker.
Hux’s first instinct was to put on the ankle boots – familiar, comfortable-looking, utilitarian enough that he wouldn’t feel like a complete fop wearing them. But Ren would certainly make a comment about it, something harsh and utterly disrespectful, and Hux decided not to give him the chance. He put on the black dress shoes instead, and they fit perfectly, store-bought or not.
Ren came back from whatever side room he’d disappeared in with a full-length mirror on a large wheeled platform, a huge, obnoxious thing with a golden plated frame, covered with an azure cloth that looked fancier than the curtains in Hux’s personal bedroom.
He thought it was a bit excessive. Then he saw Ren bring his hands to each of the mirror’s side and stretch – and it wasn’t a mirror, but rather six of them, slid one behind the other and joined at the sides with hinges for maneuverability. It was so over the top, Hux thought as he watched Ren take out each mirror and wheel them around to create a perfect hexagon. It was so over the top and yet it made perfect sense that Kylo Ren would have his own portable dressing room with the mirror frames plated in gold. And he’d had it flown it over from Kuat, on Crown money.
“How sober of you.”
Ren shook his head slowly, mustering a suitably sad expression. “You really have no taste.” Then he walked out from the only opening, pushing the mirrors closer together on their wheels as they went, leaving only a thin crack and Hux inside it, his own image reflected around him to infinity.
“Oh,” Hux said.
He knew, objectively, that he was a good-looking man. He had other qualities he valued more, but he’d long ago learned that most people found him aesthetically pleasing, and used that accordingly. As resourceful as he was, it was in doubt he’d have risen as quickly as he had, had he not learned to use his looks for his own means at a young age.
Hux knew he was handsome, but he’d never seen him looking quite so put together – not even in his uniform, his polished look altogether too artificial compared to the easy charm of the figure in the mirror. He looked – sharp, he supposed; the clean, elegant line of the clothing, the way the rich colors made him stand out, variety and taste at the same time. He looked imposing and he looked effortless and he looked attractive; he looked like he could fit anywhere.
He looked regal.
Well, he thought, and then he caught sight of Ren through the crack between the mirrors, watching him watch himself.
“You like?” Ren rumbled – and he was gloating, the bastard, amused and smug and annoyingly arrogant as always.
Hux felt himself go red in the face – he saw himself going red in the face, from all angles, thanks to the stupid bloody mirrors. “Will you stop staring at me?”
Ren met his reflection’s eyes. “I don’t see why.”
“Ren.”
“Hux.”
Now he was being mocking. “That’s Your Highness to you,” Hux reminded him. Not that he held much hope that Ren would show any manners, not anymore.
Predictably, Ren laughed. “Do I look like someone who cares for authority?” Hux kept looking at him in the mirror, taking notice of the small creases around his eyes when he smiled, the way they captured the light like dark pools.
“You really don’t,” he heard himself saying, and he almost sounded fond.
This wasn’t good.
“Right,” Ren said. “Now turn around, please.”
“What?”
“Turn around,” Ren repeated, stepping inside the hexagon of mirrors – and now he could see all of Ren’s angles too, so oddly imposing and endlessly fascinating.
“This would’ve been much quicker if you’d let my models into the room, you realize, but we will have to do,” Ren was mumbling. “How do you think you look from behind? ”
Hux decided to take the question as purely analytical and not at all as the bad one-liner it could’ve been misinterpreted as. He looked over his shoulder, taking note of the way the coat fell on his ass and tights.
“Fine.”
“Fine, he says. Get on the stool, please.”
He got on the stool, waiting patiently as Ren circled him with his tongue between his teeth, muttering to himself. He made Hux roll his shoulders and raise his arms above his head, then told him to hold it as he looked him over once again.
“Too tight on the shoulders,” Ren decided. “Could be tighter on the chest. Get down and sit on the stool, it should be the right height. How does it feel?”
“Fine,” Hux said.
“You’re absolutely useless.”
He then made him take off the coat, taking it off Hux’s hands with exaggerated carefulness, then made him repeat the same motions, even though both the shirt and the trousers fit perfectly.
Ren made him unbutton his shirtsleeves and roll them up, which he insisted looked better – in fact there was a button hanging from a thin string just under his elbow, which went into a tiny buttonhole hidden in the cuff, so that he could roll up the sleeve have it stay that way. Kylo Ren, Hux found out, was ridiculously fastidious when it came to shirtsleeves; he kept complaining Hux was being too messy and wrinkling the cloth.
At one point he snapped and took Hux’s left arm in his hands – rather large hands, he noticed, watching them rigorously roll up the cuff and smooth the fabric until it looked like it’d been pressed. Once, twice, three times. Ren’s warm palms pressed against Hux’s naked forearm, and he tried his damnest not to react.
“Done,” Ren said. “I only hope you can learn to dress that by yourself at some point. Or do you have people for that? Because in that case they’re doing a shitty job, and I can recommend someone else.”
“You can always tuck that shirt in, you realize,” Ren told next. “In fact, you should if you’re not planning on wearing the coat, or taking it off. It’d look better that way. And if you are going to wear something over it, just untuck the front of the shirt but leave the back in. Trust me.”
Hux blinked, trying to decide if Ren had just made a comment about his ass. He might have wondered longer, had the man not immediately cleared it up all by himself.
“Bend over,” Ren said.
Hux turned to look at him, back straight and face perfectly blank. “Excuse me?”
“Bend over,” Ren repeated, matter-of-factly. “Or crouch, walk around a bit, see if any of that comes hard to you. Those trousers are pretty tight.”
“I don’t really plan on doing much bending over in the near future, Master Ren,” Hux told him, as evenly as he could. Ren’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “And you are breaking about five Imperial laws right now.”
“That didn’t come out right,” Ren conceded – and was that a hint of disappointment Hux felt? He forced all emotions away from his face, tried to relax the line of his shoulders. “Not that I much care for Imperial laws,” Ren went on, conversationally, as if he weren’t speaking to the embodiment of said Imperial laws as if they were good acquaintances and not a sovereign and his insolent subject. “But I swear, Your Highness. It’s all in your head.”
Did Ren meant for that last statement to sound as ominous as it did? Ren himself looked somewhat amused by the entire conversation, and Hux hated feeling like he wasn’t on the joke.
“We are almost done for today, you know,” Ren said. “The rest of the clothes are a similar cut; they should all fit like these did. You’ll only have to try them up to see if you like the model and the colors – which we could have already done if that tall shiny captain had let me bring in the boys from Stellar Modeling...”
Stellar Modeling. Hux almost shivered at the thought, and resolved to give Phasma an even larger raise.
“I’m assuming you like these?”
“Yes,” Hux said, perhaps too earnestly. He cleared his throat. “Very surprisingly.”
“That is the color schemes we’re going with,” Ren told him, as if Hux had more of a vague idea of what a color scheme even was. “Three colors, solid, rich hues. A few different shades. Blue, red, green. Also white – bright white, not that off-white horror of a shirt you had on last time – and some black, either shirts or outer wear. No black trousers, no grey, open collar.”
It didn’t sound so bad, Hux decided. Much more reasonable than he’d expected, given Ren’s reputation.
“Naturally, this is the everyday wear – we should have it done in a few weeks. Then we’ll start on the occasion wear for important meetings and dinners, ceremonial robes first of course, and then casual wear for last.”
Ren paused, frowning, then spoke up again. “Sorry. Casual wear for second to last. Sleepwear after.”
“Hang on,” Hux told him. “What?” He’d thought Ren had been making him ceremonial clothes to begin with – wasn’t that why he’d hired him in the first place? – And robes. His mind immediately went to one peach-colored monstrosity he’d seen the Nubian ambassador wear, with carmine-red flowers embroidered all over it, like the many gaping wounds that had opened in Hux’s very soul from the awful sight.
“Sleepwear?” he asked Ren. “Whatever for?” It wasn’t as if the courtiers of Coruscant would ever see him in his bedroom, at least outside of his nightmares. “And what even is casual wear?”
“Well,” Ren began, as if he were talking to a child. “You must take time off, relax. Do you exercise, or read in the gardens with your holopad. I hope so, for your mental health, and that is what casual wear is for. Also, I was commissioned a full wardrobe, which does include sleepwear.”
Hux was about to cut into Ren’s ravings and explain that yes, he did exercise but certainly wasn’t going to require Kylo Ren’s fancy tailored clothes to sweat in, but Ren went on before he could. “And before you ask, this does not include undergarments. We have a contract with Idyllic Intimates here on Coruscant, and they do provide our clients with high-quality underwear as part of the package – though I’m suspecting in your case they’ll do it for free. Publicity, you know.”
Ren looked too straight-faced to be anything but thoroughly amused under that unbearably calm façade.
“You’re insufferable,” he told Ren.
“Did you do something to your hair?” Ren asked.
Re: Fill: The Emperor's New Clothes, 3b/4-ish
(Anonymous) 2016-04-27 01:24 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Emperor's New Clothes, 3b/4-ish
(Anonymous) 2016-04-29 03:45 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Emperor's New Clothes, 3b/4-ish
(Anonymous) 2016-04-29 01:16 pm (UTC)(link)I love this fill so much, you have no idea. I love the clothing Kylo ended up giving Hux, although that obviously isn't done yet!
Kylo designing sleepwear. XD You just know he is all "If I can't see you naked in bed, then I will see you fabulous!" And the tension building between the two! I can't wait for Hux to punch him with his mouth!
Ah, this is an amazing, amazing fill. Thank you so much for writing it!
Re: Fill: The Emperor's New Clothes, 3b/4-ish
(Anonymous) 2016-04-29 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)Between us, Kylo is totally expecting the moment Hux is going to snap and ay that he doesn't need sleep clothes, because he sleeps naked (which he does not, he's to dorky for that) so he can make some other innuendo and then act like he didn't mean it and it's all in Hux's perverted mind when he start to blush.