#vigilanteflower

Weeks had passed since his nightly ritual of fantasy had been forced to end. Weeks since he'd felt properly relaxed or well slept. Weeks since he'd felt true safety in his own thoughts. Hux genuinely believed that he might be executed at any moment – in Ren's presence or not. He slept less, unable to ease into the lull of rest, neither in the darkness of his room nor calm of his mind that had been so recently desecrated. It had been two weeks since Kylo Ren had wriggled himself into the tight channel of his psyche and made himself quite known, and the idea that he could do it at any time was at the least, unsettling. It was the total lack of acknowledgement that troubled him most though.

He had expected repercussion. He almost wished for discipline the following day for no reason other than for this to be over and finished. He didn't enjoy fearing for his life – it was a distraction from duties and that was something he simply could not abide. Another choking, perhaps a beating, or a screaming tirade about how this is not how a Supreme Leader should be treated - anything like that would be appropriate and so very Kylo Ren.

The silence from him was nearly nonsensical. The new Supreme Leader was prone to temper tantrums, especially upon humiliation. If watching his newly promoted Grand Marshal's night time imaginings of fucking his leader into submission were not the definition of humiliation, he wasn't sure what would be.

(Unless, perhaps, he wasn't angry, he was curious?)

Hux hadn't realized he had been thinking about it. He'd barely had control over the musings of his mind, when he suddenly felt a presence, like the prickling of hairs on the back of his neck when he feels he is being watched. He swallowed hard but didn't move, stoic in his position on the bridge, overseeing as usual. He looked over his shoulder briefly to assure himself that no one was there, and then went back to his previous position.

A gasp left his lips when he felt the first touch, tentative, like fingers tracing the length of his bare cock.

"Sir?" Mitaka glanced at him, waiting for an explanation.

"What?" he snapped irritably.

"I-Nothing, Sir."

It wasn't until a few minutes later that he felt the phantom sensation once again. This time the touch was with purpose - a deep, sloppy stroke - like a fist curling around him and tugging lightly. It wasn't painful, nor was it devoid of pleasure. It was more like a boy fumbling around, than sensual, but it was still, distinctly someone touching him.

Hux looked briefly at Mitaka, but if the man had noticed the second gasp, he was refusing to acknowledge it.

The pattern continued. He would have a few minutes of peace, planning and barking orders as usual, and then the fingers would twist around him once more, getting more deft with practice.

"Lt. Mitaka," Hux said finally. "Has the Supreme Leader arrived back yet?"

"I don't think so, Sir."

His fist clenched at his side.

This time, the feeling didn't leave, instead the presence lingered, like a hand his pants, cupping him firmly. He could feel himself twitching fully to life, blood flow heading in the familiar direction. He glanced down to make sure the situation wasn't as obvious as it felt – thankfully not. He had to be imagining this. Lack of sleep, too much stress, no proper release for weeks. Just take a deep breath and- The grip tightened, stroking like a hand digging into his robes, squeezing, rubbing, as if analyzing which touch worked the best.

Hux bit his lip roughly as he felt himself harden.

"Stop that," he gritted out, only partially under his breath.

This time, half the bridge glanced up at him. Instead of acknowledging them, he waved them off and spun on his heel, leaving them to their confusion.

"I think you like it," Ren's voice echoed almost smugly his thoughts.

The fist squeezed him roughly and Hux nearly groaned.

" That's odd."

"What is?" he growled, his words hidden by the stomp is his boots.

" I can hear you moan in your head."

"What is the point of this, Ren?"

His only answer was more touch. It seemed to be confined to his clothing, as if a physical hand was actually there. He was fully hard now, and nearly to the door of his room. He wondered briefly if Ren was there waiting for him, entirely unsure of which option he preferred.

"I'm not." The voice answered for him, calmly. "Just testing out a theory."

"Oh, and what theory is that? What happens if you touch a cock?" The door whooshed as it slid open, and he walked inside, sighing in relief when he saw that he was, in fact, alone (so to speak). "I would assume you would test that on yourself, were you curious. Or do you not have one?"

Something about the intrusiveness and intimacy of the situation seemed to cause the wit he had pushed away for the past two weeks to make its smashing return.

"I knew the Jedi practiced celibacy, but I didn't imagine they were actually castra—"

That wisecrack seemed enough to distract the other man from his curiosity, as the invisible fist moved from his painfully hard cock, to his throat, pressing slowly inward as he pushed him against the wall.

" What did I say about being careful about your words?"

The hand loosened so he could speak.

"I believe you said my thoughts. Words were never ment-"

His airway further constricted again and Hux choked, the rest of his words dissolving into a gurgle as the grip around his throat tightened - so different from the abrupt, crushing blow of that night. It was only a moment later, when spots appeared floating in his vision and his lungs burned, that he realized that it would be vastly unfortunate to die like this, found strangled with a hard cock in his robes. Imagine the rumors.

He heard a soft laugh in his mind, cold but taunting, a sound someone would make when amused by a child.

" Until next time, Grand Marshal."