Naturally, they're always careful to keep the nature of their meetings a secret. If word ever got out, there would be consequences for them both from the Supreme Leader, and he doubts that it's the kind of punishment that only entails a sharp reprimand and temporary suspension of privileges. He doesn't fear so much for himself as he does for Hux; Snoke's approval is hard-won and easily lost, and though he's suspected that Snoke has favored Hux from the moment that they were acquainted with each other, he also suspects that Hux's failure might merit a more severe response in Snoke's eyes. Discipline is a tool the Supreme Leader is not unaccustomed to using. Lenience breeds cowardice, Snoke had repeated often at the beginning of his apprenticeship. Cowardice breeds weakness. And I have no patience for weakness, Kylo.

Starkiller is too large to be kept under perfect surveillance and he has wants that must be met; Hux knows this as well. Few words are ever exchanged during the times that they are together like this, but few words are needed. He thrusts urgently against Hux, feverish for release, Hux with his head thrown back, hissing his name through gritted teeth, urging him on. Then, he shudders and Hux gives a low groan, both out of breath but satisfied.

The two of them have retired to a more remote section of the base, near Hux's private quarters. Although the planet's temperatures can dip well below freezing at night, he feels only the slightest chill here without his robes on, lying on a wide mattress while Hux sits in the corner, bare except for his overcoat, scanning the feed projected from a small disk on his lap.

"We're needed in the main hangar," Hux announces, pressing a button that closes the holo with a tiny beep. "Twenty minutes from now. I suggest that you get dressed as soon as you can."

"I'll be fine."

His friend merely shoots him a look, clicks his tongue, and goes about covering their tracks.

It's fascinating, Kylo admits, to see Hux without his uniform. There's not a single blemish on his body, just meters upon meters of pale, perfect skin. He watches the muscles in Hux's back shift as the other man pulls on trousers, slender arms bent at sharp angles, mouth just barely pursed in slight concentration. Not a hair on his head is out of place even after what they've done, he observes. Everything is done with a degree of precision he finds enviable. Hux, even when not in command, is an economy of movement.

Perhaps that's why Snoke prefers him instead. He imagines that Hux might have made a great apprentice for his master had he been born differently; it takes more than the Force, after all, to be a Sith. It takes a certain dedication to embrace the Dark, a trait which Hux has had written into his genes since he was a child. For all his trying, he wonders if he'll ever be able to dispel Snoke's doubts in that regard, or if he'll labor until he's exhausted and still be short of full immersion in the ways of the Dark Side.

"Will you ever get up?" Hux asks, sardonic. "Or am I to drag you naked to greet our visitors?"

Although he's reluctant to leave the bed, which is still warm from himself and Hux, he does so anyway. By the time he's done, Hux is finished as well and is combing his hair.

"Leave it. You look the same as you did an hour ago."

Hux scoffs, puts the comb away, and brushes down the front of his tunic. "I'm being careful. You're ready, then?"

"Wait."

Scowling, Hux stops in front of the doors and swivels. "What?"

His throat has dried up. "When can we... when are we going to have..."

"Whenever there's time." An undercurrent of agitation has wound its way into Hux's tone. "You know what protocol dictates. We can't be caught."

He steps closer to Hux, hoping that his face appears calm, that he has betrayed nothing of himself yet. As he approaches, he watches the general flinch. "Kylo? What are you doi-"

Without listening to the end of Hux's sentence, he presses his lips to the other man's own, kissing him softly. He feels Hux's hands gripping his waist, senses a flash of surprise and pleasure and apprehension all in the same strand of thought, and before he knows it they have come apart. Color is rising to Hux's cheeks.

'Let's go," he says rather gruffly, turning away and walking out into the corridor. Kylo stays in that spot for a moment before he summons his helmet and slips it over his head, following closely behind.