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The next week passed quietly; Kylo’s usual routine remained uninterrupted by any further visits from the emperor and his datapad chirped only once with a message from his physiotherapist’s secretary asking to reschedule his appointment.
He privately bemoaned the three day delay; the encounter with Hux had tightened his muscles into rock-hard knots. He felt like his joints were stones grinding against each other every time he moved and his limp was much more pronounced than usual. Luckily the pain kept his mind preoccupied and the little spark of hope he could feel flickering in his chest was easily extinguished by his aches.
As he walked back to his rooms from his physio appointment his limp was still mildly apparent, although that was due more to his exhaustion than pain. The post-physio massage had both eased his aches and made him fully realize how little sleep he had gotten. Because of his fatigue it wasn’t until the door closed behind him that he froze in place – muscles beginning to tense again.
The door had already been unlocked; the emperor’s overcoat and perfectly polished boots were on the rack beside the door. With a heavy sigh of resignation Kylo kicked off his own shoes haphazardly and tossed his coat on the closest armchair – where it proceeded to slide into a puddle on the floor – and made his way to the sounds of the kitchen.
Hux stood in front of the stove; socked feet and sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he stirred a pot. The image was both familiar and foreign to Kylo; so it was with a mixture of trepidation and nostalgia that he intervened.
“What are you doing?”
“Cooking.” Was the succinct response.
“No peons available to do that for you?”
Hux inhaled slowly, clearly struggling to keep calm “My ‘peons’ are attending to other matters. Besides which none of them know how you prefer your Bantha steak.”
“Bantha steak.” Kylo repeated.
“Yes…and mashed amber root with a Fenti bean sauce.”
“You hate Fenti beans.”
“I didn’t plan on using the sauce myself.” There was a slight furrowing of his brow when Hux turned around, “Are you no longer fond of it?”
Kylo ceded the point but didn’t respond, preferring to lean against the doorway and watch the ‘Galactic Emperor’ cook them both supper. It had been ages since Hux had cooked anything, especially in this kitchen; but the emperor did have a talent. He bit the inside of his lip to hold back the smile that wanted to break out when he recalled the time that he had told Armitage that he should have become a chef instead of an emperor, to which Armitage had responded by smacking him with a spatula and splattering egg and oil everywhere.
After several quiet moments Hux removed the pots from the stove and started slicing the steak he had had resting on the side, “Did you wish to eat at the table or do you still prefer the kitchen island?”
Kylo snorts, “don’t worry, the table is still nothing more than an ornament.”
As Hux plated the food Kylo grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with water from the fridge before seating himself in the stool at the farthest corner of the island and waited for his dinner.
A small smile curled the corners of Hux’s lips; it took a moment before Kylo realized that he hadn’t once voiced a complaint and considering their previous interaction he knew the emperor was taking his silence as some sort of success.
“So,” Kylo began with false interest, “who is doing whatever it is that you would usually be doing?”
“Mitaka and a few of his assistants”
“Really.”
“He’s actually quite competent, I’ll have you know.” Hux sniffed.
“I’m sure he is…and you trust him enough?”
“It wasn’t easy, but yes.”
Kylo hmm’d in response and nodded his thanks when Hux set his plate in front of him before setting his own plate at the furthest possible seat. It took considerable effort not to groan his appreciation for the meal. Much as he loathed admitting it – even to himself – the steak was perfectly cooked, the amber root was beautifully seasoned and the sauce was creamy and succulent.
It wasn’t until his plate was nearly empty that Kylo realized that he hadn’t enjoyed a meal quite so much in years and that despite the fact that he hadn’t acknowledge Hux’s presence there was a certain comfort in knowing there was someone sharing the silence with him. Even if that ‘someone’ was a person whose motivations he didn’t truly understand anymore.
So it was with some suspicion that he looks to the other end of the island and sees the galactic emperor pushing the food around on his full plate absentmindedly; a dark, contemplative expression on his face.
“You know,” Kylo says, holding back a sneer when Hux jumps at the sound of his voice “if you didn’t want to eat you could have just left.”
Hux groans and pushes his plate away so he can drop his head in his hands “I don’t… I don’t really know how to do this Kylo. Since I’ve been coroneted time has sort of…meshed together and every day my head is at least a week in the future, thinking about meetings and duties I must attend to then instead of what is happening now.”
“So what is this then? A farce? A reminder of what I can no longer have?”
“Not at all. I did this because I missed it, you were right, last week.” Hux responds sincerely “I do like sharing meals with you. I let ruling become more important than everything else, I’ve let composure and poise become my full-time responsibility instead of my uniform. I left part of myself here, with you, and didn’t come back to get it.”
“So this is a means to an end, then.”
Hux groaned again and pinched the bridge of his nose, “No, it is not a means to an end. We…we had something once, despite how rarely it was said I believe we genuinely loved each other. I let it fall to the wayside as I dealt with my new responsibilities. If there is anything left, anything to salvage I would like to try and salvage it. If it is too late then then I’ll leave, send someone to collect my things, and you can do as you wish if that would please you. I just don’t want to believe it’s too late.”
Kylo stared at him thoughtfully for a long time.
“You are not welcome in my bed.” He finally says.
Hux’s brow furrows “That’s not what I-”
“But the couch is comfortable enough. You know where the linen closet is, I suggest you make your bed.”