nightsofllyn:

“Do you know why I interrogate our prisoners?”

“Because you’re a sadist?” Hux asks, shifting his tender wrists in the binders.

Ben–he’d introduced himself, ludicrously (I’m Ben Solo, I’m here to interrogate you)–laughs, dipping his head. A lock of black hair falls free from his stubby ponytail. He pushes it back behind his ear. He’s–Hux grimaces–fetching. In an entirely irritating way.

“Because I can read minds,” Ben whispers, as if sharing a secret. It infuriates Hux. Of course he’s heard of the Resistance telepath. 

“Prove it.” It’s out of Hux’s mouth before he can stop himself. A stupid thing to say. Stupidity inspired by this stupid, bragging boy.

Ben leans in. Hux leans back, but can’t go far without trapping himself against the shuttle’s wall. He grits his teeth as Ben lays his fingers lightly on his temple. His heart pounds. How can he hide the plans for–no, don’t–don’t think of it.

But it seems too late already, Ben’s arrogant smirk is threatening to become a full blown, punchable smile, “Rhett,” he says.

Rhett? Hux blinks in confusion.

Ben’s still smiling, “Tomas. Suleiman. Fredrik.”

“Stop it,” Hux says.

“Dean. Mikan,” Ben’s eyebrow quirks, “Nabi.”

Hux feels the heat in his cheeks. He hasn’t thought of Nabi in a very long time, “Is this what the Resistance wants? The details of my sex life?” He regrets saying it instantly, shouldn’t have reminded Ben of the–no, no, don’t think.

Ben shrugs, “Just proving it, General, like you ordered,” then he chews his cheek and seems to sober, “The plans. To your pet weapon. That’s what the Resistance wants.”

Hux doesn’t react, face like stone.

Until Ben says, “But I think they’re wrong,” and Hux boggles at him. Ben doesn’t notice, fists clenching, “I could destroy it alone, with my powers, with the Force, without the plans or anyone else!”

“Could you really?” Hux asks, leaning forward, curious despite himself. After all, the weapon isn’t just his pet but his home, his life.

“I could if they’d let me,” Ben says, deflating, and blows a loose strand of hair from his face with a huff.

“You’re too important to risk,” Hux says, amused that this overgrown puppy of a man doesn’t get it, “I’m sure they’d rather err on the side of caution than send you into enemy territory alone with their fingers crossed.”

“But I don’t want to sit around while others die for the Resistance. I could save so many lives if they’d just listen to me.”

“Yes,” Hux says, swallowing, “Me, too.”

Ben chews his cheek, eyes on Hux as turbulence rocks the shuttle. Hux looks back at him, brows drawn together.

“I saw your picture,” Ben says, “in your holofile,” he leans forward, elbows on his knees, “you’re smaller than I imagined you.” He reaches out. Hux leans back, hitting the shuttle wall behind him. But Ben only drags his thumb gently over the cut on Hux’s lip, wiping away the blood. I’ll help you escape. Ben doesn’t say it out loud, but Hux hears it.

“What would you want in return?” Hux asks.

“The same thing Nabi got,” Ben says, without even the decency to blush or look away.

Hux finds, against all reason, that he likes this foolish boldness. He lifts his chin, “Fine.”

“There’s just one problem though,” Ben’s smirk–unfortunately–returns in all its lopsided glory, “I can’t take your binders off.”

“I don’t want you to,” Hux says, and wipes the smile off Ben’s face.

–

Inspired by this perfection by @hicstreme0