Chapter Text
HOUR ONE [7 AM]
Hux wheeled his suitcase onboard Ren’s command shuttle himself, wondering why there weren’t in-flight service attendants or baggage handlers waiting next to the ramp, offering to do this for him. Hux arrived, looking around the shuttle’s surprisingly hospitable antechamber. A plush Darth Vader rug. Several oddly-shaped IKEA lamps. Umbrella drip bags. A loveseat with a couple of geometric print throw pillows. A mid-century modern coffee table outfitted with a few issues of GQ magazine. In front of Hux, the shuttle’s manifest, with a sign that read: WELCOME! GUESTS, PLEASE SIGN-IN HERE AND LIST THE STUFF YOU BROUGHT TOO. THANKS. - KYLO REN. By the looks of it, the sign had been produced by an inkjet printer that appeared to have been running desperately low on ink. Hux cringed at the blatant misuse of the First Order insignia, its shape terribly stretched out to an oval instead of a circle and monstrously pixelated.
Hux rolled his eyes and passed through the foyer and into the ship’s main cabin. A larger Darth Vader plush rug. More non-regulation IKEA furniture: An all-black sectional covered in more geometric print throw pillows, a couple of all-black swivel recliners, a grey waffle knit blanket, and another coffee table like the one in the foyer. On the table, a hookah pipe, flakes of dried tobacco, lighters, foil, trash, crumbs and a Banksy coffee table book. There was a 42-inch TV affixed to the wall. A few other decorative items dotted the space: A potted succulent style plant. Large brown wicker baskets filled mostly with trash and socks. A pair of Birkenstock sandals. An elephant-and-lotus-plant patterned wall tapestry behind the sofa. A red exercise ball. A pair of BowFlex SelectTech adjustable dumbbells.
There was a kitchenette, which, by the looks of it, Ren had gutted and replaced with an IKEA kitchen -- all black. On the countertop, a George Foreman Grill, a Vitamix and a four pound canister of Cookies and Cream casein protein powder. Hux rolled his eyes thoroughly, afraid to even check and see what Ren had done to the bathroom, but curiosity got the best of him. He peeked in, turning on the light. Another poorly printed sign with an ill-represented First Order insignia was taped to the place where the mirror was supposed to be. PARDON OUR MESS! BATHROOM IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION. -REN. Hux looked around. The tile was mostly torn up, the shower stall had no door. The sink had no faucet. But the toilet was intact. He shut off the light and went back out to the cabin. The entire space looked like a training ground for a free-spirited Swedish DIY-bodybuilder.
Hux looked around for any sign of a human presence. The crew hadn’t yet arrived. Ren hadn’t yet arrived. Hux checked his watch. The itinerary sent to his iPad had listed 0700 as their hour of departure, yet, at twenty til, the shuttle seemed completely unprepared for a cross-galaxy flight.
“Hello?” He called out in the unlikely event that there was someone on board to provide instruction on where to deposit his luggage and where to sit. No answer came. Hux rolled his eyes again and wheeled his suitcase over to a couple of rows of standard aircraft chairs, probably used only for take-off and landing given the sectional sofa and recliners, and took a seat in one of them, placing his own suitcase in the overhead compartment and shutting it. He sat in the seat and took off his hat, placing it in the empty seat next to him. In front of him, another 42-inch TV. Hux rolled his eyes, but switched it on and flipped through the First Order cable package channels before settling on CNN. About twenty minutes later, he heard a few sets of footsteps. Ren’s crew.
“General,” the pilot said, himself and the copilot standing at attention.
“Are we not to depart at 0700, as stated on the itinerary?” Hux asked.
“We are sir,” the pilot said, “We’re just waiting on Lord Ren to arrive.”
“Is he always late to his own shuttle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you ever once departed on time?”
“No, sir.”
Hux had heard enough. He waved them on so they could at least prepared to take off when Ren finally did arrive. He turned his attention back to CNN as he heard the shuttle begin to rumble beneath him and looked through the window at the fueling crew. At least steps were being taken toward them actually departing the hangar at some point today. Hux watched the TV for a while, before opening Snapchat and sending Phasma a snap of the empty shuttle, overlaid with text: fifteen minutes after seven and no sign of Ren, finished with a slew of question marks and an angry frustrated face emoji.
Phasma responded immediately. A picture of her and Millicent, comfortably in bed with a laugh-cry face emoji and the text: I don’t think he owns a timekeeping device, sir.
Hux’s mouth gaped. Snapchat wouldn’t do. He sent her a text.
Hux: What?
Phasma: His phone is broken and he has no other timekeeping device.
Hux’s mind spun.
Hux: He broke another phone? What about his iPad? Is there not a clock in his quarters?
Phasma: He lost his iPad I think. He had the clocks removed. He’s not interested in knowing the local time.
Hux couldn’t. He glared out the window, back down at the fueling crew. He had to squint to see through the windows. Ren had had the windows tinted, a ridiculous use of his designated First Order shuttle upkeep funds by Hux’s account, but he’d approved it anyways, not wanting to waste his time arguing with Ren about something as trifling as window tint. Hux turned his attention back to the TV and texted Phasma again.
Hux: How’s my Millie? Has she taken her vitamins?
Hux had had to leave Millicent in Phasma’s care. He’d packed Millicent’s bags, bed and condo and dropped her off that morning before heading to the shuttle. He’d asked Phasma to send him regular Snapchat updates. He missed her already.
Phasma: Yes, she’s had her vitamins.
Hux: Is her mineral water chilled yet?
Phasma: Yes, she had some after her vitamins.
Hux: Did you brush her? She likes to be brushed before her morning nap.
Phasma: YES, GENERAL. I brushed her. Jesus Christ.
Hux: Thank you. Text me when she wakes from her nap. She’ll want her tuna-flavored dental health treats when she’s up.
Hux looked back up the TV, tired of CNN, and began flipping through the remaining channels, surprised when instead of looping back around when he reached the end of the First Order cable package, the channels kept coming. Ren has U-Verse?
Hux wasn’t sure who’d approved Ren’s U-Verse bill, but Hux was certain he hadn’t seen a special purchasing order cross his desk. Hux would have Ren’s U-Verse subscription cancelled immediately upon return, but for now he decided to take advantage of the premium movie channels. Hux was still flipping through movie channels, when twenty minutes later, he heard heavy footsteps stalking up the ramp, somehow shaking the entire shuttle.
Ren.
Kylo Ren boarded, carrying with him a large black duffel bag, the zipper having been bursted by habitual overstuffing. Long robes and sleeves dragged the floor behind him, the hilt of a lightsaber sticking out. He was dressed in his full getup, helmet included and Hux rolled his eyes. Ren’s head cocked to the side.
“Where’s Captain Phasma?” He asked, the voice modulator making his question sound more like a command.
“No one is more disappointed than I am to report that she’s still under weather and not cleared for travel. I’ll accompany you to the First Order Weaponry Summit on Corellia.”
Ren stared.
“You’re not serious?”
“I’m afraid I am.”
Ren sighed and continued boarding, the duffel and its contents dragging behind him on the floor. Hux could now see that Ren was wearing a backpack too. Both bags, Hux noted, were non-regulation. Ren shoved the duffel it into the same overhead container as Hux’s suitcase, forcing it closed, then reached up to take off his helmet.
Hux allowed himself a moment to panic. He figured, in the most distant far reaches of mind, that Kylo Ren had to take off his helmet at some point to eat or sneeze or sleep, but he wasn’t prepared for Ren to remove his helmet at any point during their eight hour trip to Corellia, or at any point that their paths should cross on the planet’s surface itself, or at any point on their eight hour trip home. Hux heard a hiss of air and couldn’t resist looking as Ren’s gloved hands lifted the helmet.
Hux had heard rumors that Ren closely resembled a frog, so much so that most weren’t sure if he was amphibian or human or both, and Hux imagined he looked something like an Animorph. At best, he’d heard that Ren was a bald human male, mid 50’s, no usable eyesight without the aid of the mask and no remaining teeth.
Ren removed the helmet and shook his hair out. A human male, certainly nowhere near 50, not frog-like in the least, the opposite of bald, a full set of teeth, dark wide eyes, creamy skin and full pink lips. Hux stared in horror.
“You’re in my seat,” Ren said.
“What?”
“My seat. That’s where I sit,” Ren said.
Hux had to stifle his disbelief at hearing Ren’s voice, unmodulated. It was small and simple. Soft and clean. Plain and unremarkable.
“You have to pick a different seat.”
Hux came to, searching for a quippy reply to hide how immediately taken he was with Ren. “Well there was no seat assignment listed on the itinerary and no shuttle staff to direct me where to sit when I arrived a customary twenty minutes before departure.”
“Well you can’t sit there,” Ren said.
Hux reluctantly stood, taking the opportunity to inspect Ren’s face in closer detail. Hux saw now that he had multiple tiny moles dotting his face. A rather large nose. Striking eyebrows and a strong jaw. He smelled like Dove Men+Care Clean Comfort bodywash. He was also chewing bubble gum. Ren stared back at him. Hux sat in the seat behind Ren, crossing his arms defiantly as Ren removed his backpack and sat too.
“Here, you forgot this,” Ren said, tossing Hux’s cap over the back of the seat and blowing a huge bubble.
Hux caught it just in time to keep it from landing on the floor that looked as it if hadn’t been swept in weeks.
“You’re late, you know,” Hux said.
“Late for what?” Ren asked, now digging through the bulky sack he’d brought on board.
“For our 0700 departure,” Hux said.
“When? Today?”
“Yes, today. We were supposed to depart almost forty-five minutes ago,” Hux said.
“According to who?”
“According to the itinerary I was sent by our flight logistics staff who carefully arranges departures and arrivals in such a way as to keep the hangar and its surrounding airspace from becoming too cluttered.”
“Oh, I didn’t get it,” Ren said, “I dropped my phone so it’s broken now.”
“Where’s your iPad?”
“I lost it a few weeks ago.”
Hux glared at Ren from above the seats, his ridiculous, non-regulation length hair falling over his eyes and face as he dug around for something and blew another bubble.
“And you weren’t going to request a replacement?”
“I’ve used up my replacements or something,” Ren said, still digging, “HR told me that if I want anymore phones or iPads, they’ll deduct it from my pay, which I don’t want to do. I’m saving up for a down payment for a treehouse on Endor.”
Hux stared.
“If I don’t fork over the payment soon, the developer will sell the tree to someone else,” Ren explained.
“You’ve used up all six replacements for both your iPhone and your iPad?”
Ren nodded, gave up his digging and dumped the contents of his bag onto the seat. Hux couldn’t help but look at what Kylo Ren had deemed necessary of bringing on board. He peeked over the top of the seat. An assortment of snack foods: Cheddar cheese pringles, Cookie Crisp cereal, a box of grape Smucker’s Uncrustables, pop tarts, Funyuns, pizza-flavored combos, gummi worms, gummi bears, store brand Peach-O’s, a half gallon of TruMoo chocolate milk, a bottle of Fanta orange soda, two Capri Sun pouches, and more bubble gum.
“Is there a child traveling on board?”
“No,” Ren said, poking through the contents, “Why do you ask?”
Hux sighed and looked at the rest of Ren’s items. A moleskine notebook and gel pens, a Color Me Calm coloring book, hair ties and bobby pins, socks, lavender essential oil, prescription pill bottles of all shapes and sizes and an eye pillow.
“Fuck,” Ren muttered and stood. He went to the cockpit and returned a few moments later. Hux winced as Ren used an arm to swipe everything back into the bag, minus the chocolate milk, which he was now twisting open. He took out his gum and stuck it beneath his seat. He took a few noisy swigs directly from the jug, then turned to Hux, offering it to him.
“Want some milk?”
“No.”
Ren shrugged and turned back around, taking another few swigs and twisting the cap back on as the pilot instructed them to buckle up and prepare for take off. As they rose, the red exercise ball rolled around the cabin, back and forth in Hux’s peripheral view. Hux checked his phone. Ten til 0800 hours. A full fifty minutes late.
HOUR TWO [9 AM]
Hux looked through his window as they approached Starkiller base. Unless Corellia had changed its coordinates or the summit was now taking place on Starkiller, they were not on the right course.
“Why are we approaching Starkiller?” Hux murmured to himself.
“Hm?” Ren said, turning and sitting up a bit so he could see over the back of the seat.
“We’re approaching Starkiller.”
“Oh yeah,” Ren said, “I told the pilot we needed to make a stop. I left my retainer here.”
HOUR THREE [10 AM]
By the time they were actually on course for Corellia, it was nearly 1000 hours. Ren had spent forty-minutes on Starkiller base retrieving his retainer, and they’d had to travel almost an hour out of the way to get there. Hux had resigned himself to his fate after realizing, only two and a half hours into his trip, that his blood pressure was nearing its boiling point. He relaxed now, instead focusing his energy on reading through Finalizer personnel and systems updates he hadn’t yet had time to address, responding to emails flagged for follow-up and updating Phasma on the unbelievable situation in which he found himself.
“I found my iPad,” Ren said when he got back, buckling his seatbelt for take-off, “One of them at least.”
“Great,” Hux said, “We’re now three hours behind our itinerary.”
Ren shrugged as the shuttle lifted off. The exercise ball rolled around. “Want to see a picture of the tree I picked for my treehouse?” Ren said, flipping through his iPad.
“I don’t,” Hux said.
“Here it is,” Ren said, handing the iPad back to Hux as the exercise ball rolled past them again, “You can swipe left for three more pictures of it, but you’ll want to stop there.”
HOUR FOUR [11 AM]
Hux’s stomach growled and he twisted around to see if he could see any breakfast preparation taking place in the kitchenette. The pilot and copilot were in the cockpit, and besides that, there was no staff.
“Ren?” Hux said loudly enough for Ren to hear over the sound of his munching. He’d been eating for the last hour.
“Hm?” Ren said lifting and twisting to look at Hux. He’d also stretched his legs out to occupy the seat next to him and taken off his boots and socks, so his bare feet were digging into the seat fabric.
“When is the in-flight meal served?”
“What?”
“I’m hungry. We’ve been on board four hours and they’ve not even brought around a beverage cart.”
“Oh,” Ren said, rifling through the snacks at his bare feet, “I have some TruMoo and some orange soda and some juice if you’re thirsty. And I brought food too. Do you like Funyuns?”
Hux rightly refused to register Ren’s words and instead circled back to his original query. “When is the in-flight meal served?”
“There isn’t one,” Ren said with a shrug, “You can check the fridge I guess.”
“Why is there no in-flight meal service? Or service at all?”
“I cancelled it to make room in the budget for U-Verse. I got a notice that I’d apparently exceeded my shuttle operations budget, so I had make cutbacks.”
Hux rolled his eyes. No wonder he hadn’t seen a purchasing order for U-Verse. Ren had shifted the budget on his own as not to require special purchasing permissions.
“Just to be clear,” Hux said, “There is no food to be served on this eight hour trip, now turned eleven hour trip thanks to our hour-late departure and your two-hour retainer detour?”
“Yes,” Ren said with a nod, “That’s why I brought food.”
Hux looked at what Ren interpreted to be food and resolved that he’d done more difficult things in his life than to go eleven hours without eating.
“Do you want Funyuns? Or Pringles? I have chocolate chip cookie dough pop tarts or Cookie Crisp or Uncrustables if you want breakfast food?” Ren picked through the snacks, some of which were already open and literally resting beneath his bare feet. “I have gummi bears and gummi worms, not sure which you prefer. Combos if you want those?”
“No, thank you,” Hux said.
“Ok,” Ren said, frowning, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind sharing.”
“No, thank you,” Hux said, taking in Ren’s confused expression.
“You’re not going to eat for the rest of the trip? That’s a long time, Hux.”
“I’ll be fine.”
HOUR SIX [1 PM]
Hux was not fine. His mouth was dry enough that he was certain his tongue had doubled in size. His throat was scratchy. His stomach growled furiously, threatening to digest itself soon.
“Ren,” Hux called out, clearing his throat to hide the dehydrated croak.
Ren had vacated his seat and was now stretched across the Darth Vader rug, munching on gummi worms and playing Candy Crush on his iPad. He’d removed most of his layers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He’d pulled his hair up into a bun. On his TV, he’d settled on Degrassi, the remote tucked beneath his pelvis. He was blissfully unaware that every time he shifted, he changed the volume.
“Yeah?” Ren asked.
“Is there any bottled water on board?”
“You can check the fridge,” Ren said, “But I don’t think I had budget to get it restocked.”
Hux sighed and stood for the first time, stretching his legs. He moved across the floor and opened the fridge. It was a hellish sight, fully-stocked with orange soda, TruMoo and more Capri Sun. He checked the cabinets, looking for a cup. Empty, besides another eight pounds of Casein powder. He’d not consumed regular tap water in more years than he could count, but he was desperate now.
“Do you have any drinking glasses?”
“Oh,” Ren said, “Yeah, check cabinets next to the mini bar.”
Hux moved the mini bar, opening to reveal more TruMoo. The cabinets around it, empty, save for a few shards of glass.
“There’s nothing in here, Ren.”
Ren looked over, confused, before an enlightened look graced his expression.
“Oh yeah, I broke all the glasses last week. Snoke pissed me off and my boyfriend broke up with me. Sorry,” Ren said simply.
Hux glared. “And you couldn’t replace them?”
“No budget.”
A thought crossed Hux’s mind, fleeting and embarrassing even for the few moments it occupied his thoughts: he could put his mouth under the tap. He shuddered at the thought and returned to his seat.
“You can drink the soda or milk or juice right from the container, you know,” Ren said.
“I’m fine.”
HOUR SEVEN [2 PM]
Hux was increasingly not fine. He got up from his seat, his expression grim with what he’d resolved to do. He was going to drink directly from the tap. He walked over, feeling Ren’s eyes on him. Ren had turned over and now was now lying on his back, wearing his Birkenstocks, his legs propped up on the exercise ball, watching Degrassi upside down. His iPad battery had died. He hadn’t thought to bring the charger and Hux hadn’t bothered to offer Ren his iPad charger, safely stowed away in his suitcase.
Hux steeled himself and turned the sink’s handle. Sludge spewed from the faucet. Hux’s brain failed to process what he saw.
“What’s wrong with the water?”
“Huh?” Ren asked, rolling over so he was propped up on his elbows. The ball rolled away.
“Why isn’t the water working?” Hux asked, bracing himself for the answer.
“Oh,” Ren said, “I had water service shut off because it was too expensive for upkeep.”
“There’s no running water on this shuttle?”
“Nope,” Ren said, rolling back over to watch the TV upside down.
“What about the bathroom?”
“What about it?”
“How does it operate without water?”
Ren shrugged. “Well, it’s under construction. Did you see the note?”
“You don’t have a working bathroom on board?”
Ren shrugged. “It works well enough,” he said, “Can’t take a shower. Very unwise to poop. The toilet suctions out whatever is deposited into it and there’s hand sanitizer in there for when you’re done.”
Hux cursed Phasma for sending him here, stranded on a water-less shuttle with Kylo Ren and a host of junk food while she sat comfortably on the Finalizer with real food and Millicent. Hux opened the fridge and looked at the soda. He’d done worse things in life. He took one and returned to his seat. Ren burped loudly and cradled the half gallon of chocolate milk, now mostly gone, close to his side.
Hux twisted the cap, hearing the unfamiliar hiss of carbonated beverages and took a sip. The sugary sweetness of it made his mouth water and the carbonation stung his throat. He considered it for a moment. Delightful, he concluded. More so than he wanted to admit. He finished the entire bottle without stopping and made a mental record of this being the lowest point in his life, glad that only Ren was here to witness it.
“Do you want something to eat?” Ren asked, still upside down, using the Force to have brought the ball back beneath his legs. Hux looked at the snacks scattered around Ren on the floor. He’d already stooped so low. A couple of Funyuns or a sour worm-shaped candy didn’t make much difference now. Hux stood, got another soda from the fridge and inspected the in-flight dining options.
Ren looked at him, then sat up. “Have as much as you want,” Ren said. Hux sighed. At least he was being hospitable. Hux selected a packet of the chocolate chip cookie dough pop tarts, a small bag of Funyuns and a bag of the pizza-flavored combos.
“Have you seen this show?” Ren asked. Hux looked to the screen.
“No,” he said shortly.
“It’s called Degrassi. It’s a teen drama.”
“That sounds insufferable.”
“It is,” Ren said, turning up the volume, “I love it.”
Ren shifted his weight so he was sitting back on his calves now.
“Want to watch an episode with me?”
Hux looked down at him. At Kylo Ren. Dark genuine eyes, full lips, an absurdly endearing bone structure and a mess of hair shaped into a bun on the top of his head. Hux shook his head in disbelief and sat in one of the swivel recliners seats. Ren smiled.
“The handle is on the right if you want to recline,” he crawled over and pulled the lever, springing Hux’s legs upward.
“Me and Phasma usually watch Degrassi when we travel,” Ren said, crossing his feet just under his butt, sitting back on his heels and pausing the show, “This is season six, but I can get you caught up. Don’t tell Phasma I watched it without her though.”
Hux opened the packet of pizza-flavored combos and eyed them suspiciously as he listened to Ren summarize the first five seasons of a teen drama and recanted his earlier mental note: this was his new low.
HOUR EIGHT [3 PM]
Ren had successfully caught Hux up on Degrassi and they’d resumed watching. Hux hated to admit it, but he was enthralled. Ren was seated on the floor still, cross-legged and chewing on pop tarts with his mouth open and dragging off of his hookah pipe every so often, orange-mint julep flavored smoke filtering throughout the cabin.
Hux had finished off the pop tarts, Funyuns and combos, plus two more sodas, an Uncrustable and a Capri Sun.
“Why doesn’t Ashley just break up with Craig if he’s not going to take his medications as instructed?” Hux said, perplexed that this teenage girl was willing to subject herself to such a difficult, violent and volatile relationship when there were certainly other boys at her school worth dating. A mentally stable athlete, perhaps.
“Because she loves him,” Ren said, leaning his back against the sofa and burping, “Would you stay?”
Hux turned down the sides of his mouth. “With him?”
“Yeah.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You would.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You wouldn’t stay with someone you loved, even if they were ill?” Ren said, turning to inspect him.
“I wouldn’t bother to fall in love.”
Ren laughed. “I don’t think it works that way, Hux.”
“For me it does,” Hux said with a scoff, “Could I try a gummi bear, please?”
HOUR NINE [4 PM]
Hux had slid down to the floor and opened another packet of pop tarts. He and Ren split this one. Hux took a drag from the hookah pipe too and passed it back to Ren. He texted Phasma to check up on Millicent’s dinner preparation.
“I just don’t find it plausible that Liberty would get pregnant by J.T. Not after his history with Emma,” Hux said.
Ren chewed, then spoke, not bothering to swallow first, “This show isn’t plausible. That’s the point.”
“Then why would do you spend your time watching such nonsense? Especially at the expense of running water and in-flight meal service?”
“It’s called a guilty pleasure.”
“What?”
“Guilty pleasure shows. Shows that you watch that you don’t want to tell anyone you watch. Like The O.C. or the Bachelorette or Teen Mom or GIRLS.”
“I’ve not heard of any of those, Ren.”
Ren stared at him with wide eyes.
“You haven’t heard of any them?”
Hux shook his head.
“We have three more seasons of Degrassi to finish and then we’re starting Teen Mom.”
HOUR ELEVEN [6 PM]
Ren and Hux had returned to their seats for landing. They finished another half of a season of Degrassi and two more sodas before they did. Hux had brushed the remnants of processed junk food from his uniform and had tried to the straighten the creases he’d made from sitting on the floor. Ren had taken surprising care and about thirty minutes to redress in his layers, taking an inordinate amount of time to ensure that his cowl fell just right over his helmet. No wonder he was so late, Hux had thought as he watched Ren fuss over his scarf.
Once they landed and the pilot cleared them to move about the cabin, Hux was up first, reaching to open the overhead compartment. He pulled the latch open, and before he could process what was happening, Ren’s giant duffel was plummeting toward him, only to be stopped mid-air.
“Please exercise caution when opening overhead compartments as items may have shifted during flight,” Ren said as he stepped in to save Hux from his duffel. He lifted the compartment all the way and took his duffel, then got Hux’s suitcase down too.
“I can collect my own suitcase, you know,” Hux said defiantly, embarrassed at having been saved by Kylo Ren, as Ren put it down on the floor for him.
“I got it,” Ren said, doing his best to stuff the loose articles of clothing and his lightsaber back into his duffel. Ren put the duffel’s strap over his shoulder, then extended the handle of Hux’s rolling suitcase.
“What are you doing?” Hux asked.
“I can roll it for you,” Ren said simply as the ramp lowered, “Don’t forget your cap.”
***
Hux looked proudly around the hotel lobby. The First Order had spared no expense in its decorations and brand visibility. They were given First Order swag bags upon arrival, complete with a travel mug, sunglasses, a beach towel, an American Apparel t-shirt, a notebook, pencils, pens, an iPhone case and a shot glass. The hotel itself was draped with oversized First Order banners, flags, carpets and a commemorative photo series that paid homage to the Galactic Empire. Hux carried his bag and Ren’s through the lobby as they approached the check-in desk, Ren still rolling Hux’s suitcase. Most other attendees had checked in already and were milling about the lobby with drinks. Due to their retainer detour, they were late to arrive.
“Check in for Kylo Ren,” Ren said through his ridiculous helmet. The desk attendant, a girl about Ren’s age with bright red lipstick and dark hair cut into a bob, clearly frightened of this opposing figure searched the computer for his reservation, her fingers trembling a bit. Hux wanted to tell this nice lady that behind the mask was a wide-eyed idiot of a man who lived off of junk food and binge-watched high school teen dramas.
“Yes, Mr. Ren. We have you booked you for one Deluxe room.”
Ren nodded, apparently pleased, and Hux, though he had no reason to believe so based on his previous experience or hearing test results, now believed his ears were failing him.
“One room, you said?” Hux asked. The girl, a nervous sweat now having accumulated on her upper lip, nodded.
“Ok,” Hux said, “Well, we’ll need two.”
“Ok,” she said and checked the computer. She pecked a few keys and hit enter. The computer emitted a discouraging beep. “We’re completely booked, I’m afraid. We just booked out the last room twenty minutes ago. Sorry, General.”
HOUR TWELVE [7 PM]
“One room?” Hux was reeling as they stepped off the elevator.
“Phasma and I usually share,” Ren said, still wheeling the suitcase for Hux as they approached their room.
“Well I’m not Phasma,” Hux said.
“You aren’t,” Ren said as he arrived at their room and placed the key in the door. Ren pushed the door open after the pad had turned green and chimed at him and Hux peeked over his shoulder.
When he saw the room and its one bed, his soul departed his body. Ren wheeled in, and parked Hux’s suitcase by the closet.
“Ren,” Hux said.
“Yes?”
“There’s one bed.”
“Yes.”
“This is a single occupancy suite.”
“Yes.”
“When you booked this room with Phasma, were you aware that there was only one bed?”
“Yes.”
Hux stared in disbelief.
“We always share a bed.”
“What? Are you two lovers? You share a bed?”
“No, we’re not lovers,” Ren said, looking down shyly, “She’s my best friend. We like to be close.”
Hux considered getting back on Ren’s water-less shuttle and demanding a return flight back to the Finalizer. He could just read the official debrief of the summit later.
“It’s a big bed,” Ren said with a shrug. Hux shook his head.
“I can sleep on the floor, if you want,” Ren offered.
HOUR THIRTEEN [8 PM]
Ren sat on the floor, in his underwear, eating room service and watching the TV and texting someone on his now plugged in iPad. Ren hadn’t been able to choose between garlic cheese fries and chili con queso with blue corn tortilla chips, so he’d ordered both. Hux sat at the table, fully-dressed, with his dinner: a reasonable chicken breast, green beans and mashed potatoes. He ate his meal like a civilized person, with a knife and fork, sipping a Gin and Tonic, while he reviewed the meeting agenda for the summit and made a few notes.
“Do you want to try a cheese fry?” Ren offered, interrupting his train of thought.
“No,” Hux said shortly.
“How’s your chicken plate?”
“It’s very good,” Hux said, “Much better than pizza-flavored combos and Funyuns.”
Ren nodded, looking down at his family-sized iron skillet of cheese dip, now crusted on the sides. He’d taken to dipping his cheese fries in it. Hux regarded him, shoulders a bit slumped and felt a twinge of guilt. Ren had been nice enough to share his food, awful as it may have been.
“But I may want a few gummi worms for dessert,” Hux added.
Ren smiled a bit now and looked back up. Hux hated to admit how much he liked seeing Ren’s face. Ren stood in one swift motion, not even using his hands and retrieved the gummi bears. He took one and sat back down, holding the worm between his teeth and offering the bag to Hux. Hux took it.
“Do you want to go to the pool later?”
HOUR FIFTEEN [10 PM]
Ren, dressed in daringly short orange and purple palm tree swim shorts, dove into the deep end, a sprawling mess of long limbs and hair. They were the only people at the pool, since most other First Order personnel were engaging in reasonable activities like sleeping, reading the summit notes from last year or enjoying a drink at the hotel bar with colleagues. Hux looked on. He hadn’t brought a swimsuit. Obviously. He was dressed in his full First Order uniform, watching Ren splash around alone in the pool. Ren went underwater, swam up to the edge and propped his arms up on the side.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get in?” He asked, smoothing his hair back to reveal a large set of ears.
“Quite sure.”
“You don’t like to swim?”
“I don’t think I’ve been swimming since I was a child.”
“So you should now.”
“I don’t have a swimsuit, Ren.”
“You’re wearing underwear aren’t you?”
“That’s terribly unsanitary.”
“What is?”
“To get into a community pool wearing undergarments that have been on my body all day.”
Ren shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m guessing you’re one of the people who doesn’t pee in the pool either?”
HOUR SIXTEEN [11 PM]
Having returned to the room and showered, Hux was now settled into bed comfortably in his First Order pajamas and silk nightcap to keep his hair from getting too frizzy during sleep. He composed a goodnight text message for Phasma to read to Millicent and looked over the notes again for the summit and sipped his nighttime tea as he tried to ignore the sounds of Ren sloshing around in the bathroom. Hux couldn’t imagine what he was doing in there to elicit such noise, but he was glad that he’d used the bathroom first. It would certainly be rendered unusable after Ren was done doing whatever it is he was doing in there. Ren hadn’t bothered to silence his iPad and it had been chiming and buzzing with all sorts of notifications, most of which were from a guy named Eduardo.
Ren emerged a full thirty minutes later, a towel lazily wrapped around his waist, body still sopping wet, hair dripping, leaving a small stream in his wake. Hux eyed him, curious to see what course of action he’d take next. Ren dropped the towel and dug through his duffel bag, which he’d simply tossed in the corner when they’d arrived.
The part of Hux’s brain that processed surprise, shock and disgust was entirely worn out, so he was relatively unmoved by an entirely nude Kylo Ren digging through a pile of clothes and sniffing pairs of identical black underwear to figure out which were clean and which weren’t.
Hux just watched, tea in hand as droplets of water ran down Ren’s surprisingly toned and tight body and pooled on the carpet. Ren straightened and yawned, gathered the towel from the floor and wrapped his hair in it, the same towel he’d just had around his naked groin, the same towel that had just been on the hotel carpet, and resumed his search for suitable underwear. He finally found a pair and slid them on. He then searched his bag for something else, cursing when he didn’t find it and giving up. He yawned again.“Do you mind if I use a pillow?” Ren asked.
Hux sighed and gave Ren one of the bed’s six pillows, then set his empty mug on the table and watched Ren walk over to the closet.
“Eduardo’s been texting you,” Hux said after a couple of moments.
Ren turned quickly to glare at him as he pulled an extra blanket down from the top shelf.
“Your ex?" Hux guessed, based on his reaction.
“How do you know his name?” Ren asked sharply. Hux indicated Ren’s iPad, plugged in right next to where Hux had just set his empty mug.
Ren crossed the room and tugged the charger and iPad from the wall, the blanket dragging behind him. He wrapped his body in the blanket and sank to the floor next to the bed. He yawned, curled up in the fetal position, and sniffled, his head rested on the pillow as he texted Eduardo back. It appeared that he didn’t have much to say to Eduardo, as he turned off the iPad as soon as he sent the text and curled in, closing his eyes gently. Hux shut off the lights and slid beneath his blankets.
“Hux,” Ren said, a few moments later.
“What is it?”
“I left my retainer on the shuttle.”