“I don't need you to be willing,” Ren says. “I can force you to give me what I want.”
“What sort of education would that be, Ren?”
Typical arrogance and false bravado, and Hux should really have shown him the door by now- made a show of it, even, summoned a few Storm Troopers to remove Ren from his quarters-- but instead he's sitting here on the edge of his bed allowing Ren to swiftly and methodically strip him, and in no time at all his uniform is strewn across the floor and he's standing in front of Ren in nothing but his socks.
“You're skinny,” Ren observes, with yet another disdainful curl of his lip, his eyes roving over Hux's body with a sort of mercenary up-and-down glance that Hux doesn't care for at all. His cock, however, is still implacably hard, and he reaches down, paws at himself casually while Ren watches the slight motion with uncanny keenness, like a cat stalking a mouse.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Hux doesn't really want to know the answer, likely as it is to be depressing, but he spreads his legs and plants his feet and strokes himself slower and harder, showing off his technique for Ren's benefit. Ren's mouth is slightly open as he watches Hux work, and Hux thinks again of fucking it, as hard and as deep as he can, feeling Ren's warm wet throat stroke his cock until he comes.
“Not like that.”
“Here.” Hux pulls at Ren's drawstring-waisted trousers, feels the warmth and noncommittal half-hardness of his cock through the thin material. “Take these stupid things off.” Ren does, clumsily, kicking and thrashing his way out of the encumbrance of his pants, and, as an afterthought, strips his shirt off as well. Hux's immediate thought is that there's something magnificent about his body, the strength and elegance of which is only hinted at when it's draped in the collection of bizarre rags he usually wears. His arms and chest and stomach are firm, rippled with muscle, his hips almost daintily narrow. Powerful thighs, and between them a mass of curling dark hair and Ren's- it must be said-- sizeable cock, demurely draped there as if nothing about the proceedings has piqued its interest so far.
“That's a lovely cock you have, Ren. You really ought to show it off a bit more.” Hux approaches, takes hold of Ren, starts to rub him to stiffness, and isn't Ren just perfectly tractable once he's been taken in hand like this? His mouth hangs open, his eyes half-close, he stands there splay-legged and slumped and Hux gets the feeling that Ren would let him do absolutely anything as long as Hux keeps touching his cock.
“You like that?”
“Yes.” Ren's eyes flicker open, and he straightens his posture with a hitch of irritation. “Do you think that Supreme Leader-- I mean, will you kiss me?”
“Oh, I doubt very much that Snoke's going to want to kiss you.” The look of actual chagrin on Ren's face is so marvelous that Hux just has to keep poking at the sore spot he's discovered. “He's your master, not your lover. Why should he care whether you enjoy yourself or not?” Hux leans in and kisses Ren, briefly and mockingly, sliding his tongue between those soft parted lips and tasting the salt of his own skin.
“He has all the more reason to be careless with you if he suspects he's taking your virginity,” Hux continues, his lips at Ren's ear. He bites at it, nibbles softly along the rim, still working Ren's cock with one hand while the other roves indiscriminately over his body; he gropes Ren's inner thigh, pinches the sensitive skin hard enough to make him gasp. “I imagine he'll consider it a point of pride. Throwing you down and fucking you mercilessly, making you scream as he mounts you like an animal.” Hux falls back onto the bed, pulls Ren down beside him. There's some awkward clutching and scrabbling and Ren rolls on top of him, seeming distinctly as though he doesn't quite know what to do up there. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wild and his powerful chest is heaving, and Hux would have to concede that at this moment he's very nearly beautiful.
“You can't say that,” Ren mutters, his increasingly-more-reasonable-looking features drawn into a mulish frown. “You don't know what he wants.”
“I know you haven't earned his respect. And a man who doesn't respect you will use your body for his own pleasure and give no thought to yours.” Hux, of course, believes very little of what he's saying, but he's enjoying Ren's reactions far too much to stop speculating about Leader Snoke's proclivities.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I'll be gentle with you, Ren. I am capable of pity, after all.” Hux wriggles out from underneath Ren and kneels upright to rummage through the drawer beside his bed where he keeps certain necessary items, vials of lubricant and a roll of prophylactic rubbers in their little individual plastic pouches. He rips one open and applies the lurid white sheath to his cock while Ren looks on in puzzlement, his head laid to one side and his lower lip between his teeth again.
“You know what these are for, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, all right.” For what seems like a long time, neither of them speaks. They just sit facing each other down like enemies with an uneasy truce, which, Hux supposes, is more or less what they are.
“Are you going to do it now?”
“Lie on your back.”
“Why?”
“Go on, Ren, you'll like it. The position will come naturally to you, I'm sure.” Ren looks sour, but does as Hux suggests, arranging himself on his back among Hux's collection of feather pillows, his arms stretched over his head and his body describing a single long graceful arc down the length of the bed.
Re: Round 3 - Hux/Kylo, Snoke/Kylo, Hux teaches Ren about sex FILL part 2
“What sort of education would that be, Ren?”
Typical arrogance and false bravado, and Hux should really have shown him the door by now- made a show of it, even, summoned a few Storm Troopers to remove Ren from his quarters-- but instead he's sitting here on the edge of his bed allowing Ren to swiftly and methodically strip him, and in no time at all his uniform is strewn across the floor and he's standing in front of Ren in nothing but his socks.
“You're skinny,” Ren observes, with yet another disdainful curl of his lip, his eyes roving over Hux's body with a sort of mercenary up-and-down glance that Hux doesn't care for at all. His cock, however, is still implacably hard, and he reaches down, paws at himself casually while Ren watches the slight motion with uncanny keenness, like a cat stalking a mouse.
“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Hux doesn't really want to know the answer, likely as it is to be depressing, but he spreads his legs and plants his feet and strokes himself slower and harder, showing off his technique for Ren's benefit. Ren's mouth is slightly open as he watches Hux work, and Hux thinks again of fucking it, as hard and as deep as he can, feeling Ren's warm wet throat stroke his cock until he comes.
“Not like that.”
“Here.” Hux pulls at Ren's drawstring-waisted trousers, feels the warmth and noncommittal half-hardness of his cock through the thin material. “Take these stupid things off.” Ren does, clumsily, kicking and thrashing his way out of the encumbrance of his pants, and, as an afterthought, strips his shirt off as well. Hux's immediate thought is that there's something magnificent about his body, the strength and elegance of which is only hinted at when it's draped in the collection of bizarre rags he usually wears. His arms and chest and stomach are firm, rippled with muscle, his hips almost daintily narrow. Powerful thighs, and between them a mass of curling dark hair and Ren's- it must be said-- sizeable cock, demurely draped there as if nothing about the proceedings has piqued its interest so far.
“That's a lovely cock you have, Ren. You really ought to show it off a bit more.” Hux approaches, takes hold of Ren, starts to rub him to stiffness, and isn't Ren just perfectly tractable once he's been taken in hand like this? His mouth hangs open, his eyes half-close, he stands there splay-legged and slumped and Hux gets the feeling that Ren would let him do absolutely anything as long as Hux keeps touching his cock.
“You like that?”
“Yes.” Ren's eyes flicker open, and he straightens his posture with a hitch of irritation. “Do you think that Supreme Leader-- I mean, will you kiss me?”
“Oh, I doubt very much that Snoke's going to want to kiss you.” The look of actual chagrin on Ren's face is so marvelous that Hux just has to keep poking at the sore spot he's discovered. “He's your master, not your lover. Why should he care whether you enjoy yourself or not?” Hux leans in and kisses Ren, briefly and mockingly, sliding his tongue between those soft parted lips and tasting the salt of his own skin.
“He has all the more reason to be careless with you if he suspects he's taking your virginity,” Hux continues, his lips at Ren's ear. He bites at it, nibbles softly along the rim, still working Ren's cock with one hand while the other roves indiscriminately over his body; he gropes Ren's inner thigh, pinches the sensitive skin hard enough to make him gasp. “I imagine he'll consider it a point of pride. Throwing you down and fucking you mercilessly, making you scream as he mounts you like an animal.” Hux falls back onto the bed, pulls Ren down beside him. There's some awkward clutching and scrabbling and Ren rolls on top of him, seeming distinctly as though he doesn't quite know what to do up there. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wild and his powerful chest is heaving, and Hux would have to concede that at this moment he's very nearly beautiful.
“You can't say that,” Ren mutters, his increasingly-more-reasonable-looking features drawn into a mulish frown. “You don't know what he wants.”
“I know you haven't earned his respect. And a man who doesn't respect you will use your body for his own pleasure and give no thought to yours.” Hux, of course, believes very little of what he's saying, but he's enjoying Ren's reactions far too much to stop speculating about Leader Snoke's proclivities.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I'll be gentle with you, Ren. I am capable of pity, after all.” Hux wriggles out from underneath Ren and kneels upright to rummage through the drawer beside his bed where he keeps certain necessary items, vials of lubricant and a roll of prophylactic rubbers in their little individual plastic pouches. He rips one open and applies the lurid white sheath to his cock while Ren looks on in puzzlement, his head laid to one side and his lower lip between his teeth again.
“You know what these are for, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, all right.” For what seems like a long time, neither of them speaks. They just sit facing each other down like enemies with an uneasy truce, which, Hux supposes, is more or less what they are.
“Are you going to do it now?”
“Lie on your back.”
“Why?”
“Go on, Ren, you'll like it. The position will come naturally to you, I'm sure.” Ren looks sour, but does as Hux suggests, arranging himself on his back among Hux's collection of feather pillows, his arms stretched over his head and his body describing a single long graceful arc down the length of the bed.