“Yes, no thanks to you,” Hux snarled, ignoring the proffered hand and pushing himself angrily to his feet. He brushed his suit front down a little more forcefully than necessary, railing at the oaf who’d run into him, “Why don’t you watch where you’re—” but then he raised his head and took in the man’s face, uniquely beautiful, just lopsided enough to be striking, rich, deep eyes, red lips, and
his voice died in his throat.
“—going?” the man said with an embarrassed smile, scratching at the back of his head in a way that made Hux want to back him up against the nearest wall, or push him down onto the nearest bed.
“Well, I was on my way home,” Hux said slyly—and then he realized with horror that the man hadn’t asked a question, he’d been finishing Hux’s admonishment, and wasn’t that just perfect, he must seem a right arse—
But the man was smiling in a different way now; his eyes were sharp and his lips had twitched into a grin, and he crossed his arms, gave Hux a long, appraising look from head to toe and back again, then finally said, “Home, huh?”