Work Text:
Why did it always have to be so cold on Starkiller Base? Yes, it was an planet of tundra,but really, could the budget not stretch to some proper insulation and heating in the corridors?
No. Hux had run the figures eight times, it really couldn't stretch to that. Insulating a thousand miles of corridors to ease his own discomfort would be an abuse of his power. He'd already resigned himself to wearing his greatcoat indoors- which Ren certainly seemed to enjoy. No doubt by the time it wouldn't close in the front anymore he'd be complaining about being too hot anyway.
At least his private quarters were lovely and warm.
He opened the door carefully, but his cat was nowhere to be seen. It was certainly a bonus of the temperature difference that Millicent wasn't nearly as inclined to escape attempts here as she was on the Finalizer. Bren was already having trouble bending, he really didn't want to be chasing a cat all over the damn base.
The ginger menace was curled up on Ren's pillow. Good.
Hanging his coat on the wardrobe door, Hux began the relaxing process of finally getting out of uniform for the sleep period. Technically he'd been off duty for the last three hours, but there was always something else to do, another form to check or report to read. There were still another two hours of work queued to his data pad, but his back could not stand another second in his office chair. He'd take a hot shower and then complete the rest of his work in bed. No one had to know where he did the work so long as it was done.
Stripped to boxers and vest he moved through to the fresher. He still couldn't face the full length reflection in his wardrobe mirror. Somethings were easier to deal with when seen in the mirror above the sink.
Watching his reflection he dragged the undershirt over his head. The fine scars across his ribs itched, they were being distorted by the swelling in his abdomen. Hell, his whole skin itched. He'd been told he might develop tears or stretchmarks across his stomach but hadn't wanted to go off his implant for the amount of time recommended to negate that. Surely there were things they could do to reduce them, afterwards.
Finally he touched his stomach, only half visible in the reflection, cut off by the taps and the sink. He hadn't ever believed he wanted this.
Ever since he was a small child, looking around at his sisters and aunts, he'd just felt a profound 'no' to the entire concept. His father had supported his choices but the First Order- a relatively tiny population of exiles living on the edge of habitable space- forbad any permanent loss of fertility. Hux had accepted it on an intellectual level, and the mechanisms put in place to protect those organs from hormone damage didn't really affect his daily life. He'd been far too busy rising through the ranks and building his glorious machine to worry about it. He wasn't the only one in the same position. He wasn't even the only one in the command staff. But it had made him wary of intimacy, and sometimes even the most controlled General needed to let off steam.
Then Kylo Ren burst into his life in a shower of tantrums, broken machinery and pure raw power. It was pathetic how quickly that mess of a man had turned Bren's head. Franky, Hux had been lost from the first moment he'd removed that ridiculous helmet.
The Force user known every inch of Hux long before a single item of clothing had been removed. He'd taken every fear, and dream, and half-considered wish from the General's head and accepted every one of them. He wanted Bren- nothing else matter beyond that. Not once in three years had there been an awkward moment between them- blazing rows and power struggles, yes- but in private they'd been like a single entity.
Hux had succeeded where Snoke had failed. He'd found the right buttons to push and the best rewards to mould Ren into a true war machine. Who knew what might have happened to Starkiller had Kylo not maintained his iron control. The Resistance had come so close to destroying the oscillator. If Ren had been distracted by his father's presence... But he had not. The Resistance base had be destroyed, the scavenger and the traitor neutralised, the Jedi exile dispatched.
So little stood in their way. The Republic crumbled. Planets and systems petitioned him for protection en masse.
Then Snoke had made his request. And it hadbeen a request, not an order. It so easily could have been an order. Even so, had it involved a anyone else but Kylo then Hux would have refused and taken the risk to his career. But Ren had already told him about his dream visions, in the quiet hours of the sleep cycle. It hadn't really been a surprise to Bren when Snoke had used terms like "prophesy", "empire" and "peace to last a thousand years". Hux had always known it was his destiny to rule the Galaxy. If the Force insisted that he have a dynasty behind him to do it then so be it.
Running his hand over the bump he closed his eyes, feeling minuscule arms and legs pushing back against the pressure. It had been horrifying the first time he'd truly felt it move, a month earlier. Knowing that it eventually would move, had not been the same as the slow realisation that the little bubbling twitches of sensation were actually caused by an entirely new, and soon to be separate, entity from himself. He'd thought the sickness was over weeks before but he'd vomited then. Ren had been off ship for several days, returning to find the General pale and draw, unable to eat or look at himself. He'd tried,but been unable, to help settle Bren's screaming mind.
Change came when Hux had finally forced himself to take a shower. The interloper had given him a particularly vicious kick. He'd unthinkingly poked back, pressing hard into the side of his stomach. The fluttering touches had coalesced around his fingertips, as if to reach out to him. Something clicked in his mind. He'd felt powerful again. General Starkiller. He'd held death in his hands and now he would hold life within himself too.
Surfacing from his memories Hux shook his limbs and headed for the shower. There was still so much work to be done.
-----
Dressed in his softest silk pyjamas Hux gently nudged Millicent aside so he could rearrange the pillows. The heat of the water had eased his back a little but comfort was a priority now, within these rooms at least. Finally satisfied, he settled back- caf in one hand and data pad in the other- ready to face yet more tedious administration.
Milli chirruped, rubbing her cheeks across the warm caf mug and Bren's fingertips, delicately redeclaring her co-ownership of everything he possessed. The mug having been thoroughly rubbed she moved on to the datapad, pushing up onto her back legs to make sure the very top edge received the full treatment.
It was serious business and took several minutes. Hux barely registered the pressure against his hand. Millicent had her routine and it was best not to question it. Finally she stopped and nudged at the buttons of his shirt. These were his favourite pyjamas, he'd rather wear them with the lowest buttons unfastened than order more for a temporary situation. Milli nudged harder, running her cold nose across his skin. Hux shivered, the slight twitch of his abs triggering a kick from inside that connected with the cat's face.
"Meow!" She looked offended and confused, gently sniffing at the gap in his shirt. There was another kick. The cat rubbed her cheek forcefully along Hux' lower belly.
"Stop tickling," he said, putting the pad down long enough to scoop the cat up and away from him.
She chirruped again and jumped to the top of his pillow pile, nudging his face with a gentle headbutt. He fussed her for a moment before picking up the pad again.
Slowly Millicent carefully stepped onto his shoulders, then made her way down his chest, flicking her tail against his nose. He huffed, trying to blow the fur away from his face, as she hesitantly placed her front paws onto the bump. There was a shove of protest from below. Abruptly Milli slumped over his bump, melting in that very cat like way to cover the maximum possible area. Her chin resting on one side, her tail swishing on the other; she was purring like an engine now, the sound vibrating through Bren's ribs.
Finishing his caf, Hux took to stroking her ears as he worked. Gradually the purring settled the movement in his abdomen before lulling him to sleep too.
-----
"Move, you stupid cat!"
Hux cracked an eye open. His quarters were dark now, the lights set to fifteen percent. Someone had taken the data pad from his hand. Probably the same person kneeling in the middle of the bed, arguing with his cat.
"Meow."
Kylo was stripped down to his boxers, unable to stand the temperature Hux preferred in their rooms. He smelled like he'd just come from a training session- he'd never dare to get directly into bed in that state if he'd thought Bren was awake. As the absurd man leaned closer, the low lights gleamed along his muscles. Yes definitely still covered in training sweat.
"Millicent, move." Ren hissed softly. "That's my spot."
The cat, content to stay in her warm comfortable position across Hux' middle, ignored him.
"Come on. Don't make me move you. You know I will." Kylo murmured, almost nose to nose with the wretched feline.
Hux rolled his eyes. Why was he sharing his life with this intolerable fool?
Slowly Ren gestured as if to Force lift the cat away. Millicent slapped him across the face.
"Fine. I'll sleep down here. Whatever." He grumbled, shifting to rest his head in Bren's lap. He settled his scarred cheek against the bump, one arm twisted to wrap up and around it.
The cat nipped at his wrist, objecting to the proximity of his hand.
"Stop it, Mil, you'll wake Bren." Kylo murmured sleepily. There was a kick against his cheekbone. "You can stop it too. Go back to sleep, both of you."
"It can't hear you, you know." Hux said with a roll of his eyes.
"Yes he can, he hears every word we say...." Ren trailed off. "Oops. Sorry."
Bren sighed heavily, entwining his fingers in Kylo's hair. "Just go to sleep, you idiot." He said, fondly.
His free hand went back to Millicent's ears. Her purring soon lulled them all to sleep.