The Force Needs 5 More Minutes (Star Wars, Kylo Ren)

[MiraKarat]

Aaaaaaaaaawwwwww sneezing Kylo😱😱😱 thank you very much Author!!

[fickle_tickle]

Ok, so I plan on wrapping up this fic soon, and I realised I have about enough written to count as another chapter. Sorry for how few sneezes there are, I promise more in the next installment. This is just me conecting the plot to the last scene, but I hope it's still enjoyable to read! Thanks for your comments and patience!

 

Even before he’s oriented enough to realize he’s lying down, Ren senses the sterile environment. It’s not the smell of disinfectant or the quiet cacophony of machinery that reach him, but the artificial minds of the med droids, which are more or less as efficiently barren as their workplace. There’s no immediate need to wake. Kylo can feel the glare of florescent light through his eyelids, so he keeps them shut for a few minutes, maybe hours, as he drifts in and out of consciousness and pieces together his last memories with varying degrees of effort.

Pain. Weakness… Immaculately polished shoes tracing a whirling floor. Hux.

 Kylo’s eyes snap open, and, attempting to bring his hand to his face as a barricade against Med Bay’s lighting, he is alarmed to find he can’t lift it.

“Remain calm.” A droid recites in a soothing female voice as it wheels over. “You are experiencing the effects of sedatives. Relax and maintain a comfortable position. You will regain full mobility shortly.” Feeling too hazy to argue with a piece of medical equipment and admittedly better that he has in weeks, Kylo fights his rising frustration. He shuts his eyes against his abrasively reflective surroundings and tries vainly to find his way back to sleep. He’s beginning to feel his body, though it still can’t seem to remember how to move. Most of the aches have died down, but, even under the thin insulating Med Bay blanket, he still feels chilled. He refuses to allow himself to wish for his scarf, though truthfully he hasn’t felt warm since he’d started sniffling a week ago. But only so many symptoms can go ignored; he feels the beginnings of a sneeze nipping at the base of his nose. Still unable to puppeteer his hands, he scrunches his eyes tighter together and gives a desperate sniff, only to shudder with a gasping “He’EXXhuhh!...ugh”

He lies uselessly still as a second Med Droid rushes over to sanitize between his liquid sniffles. This is all Hux’s fault! He hates Hux, for daring to patronize him, for drugging him until he’s an invalid, for keeping every single obnoxiously red hair perfectly coifed in place, for carrying him here slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, for….for- oh force, he’d sneezed into Hux’s coat. He remembers now, he had sprayed the General in the shoulder in a fevered attempt to nuzzle his into the warmth of his collar. Hux had muttered darkly about dry cleaning under his breath. Without even trying, he manages to bring his palms to his eyes to give them a mournful scrub. He looks down at them, and just like that, he’s stumbling out of bed. 

Compliance thrown to the wind, he lumbers past the droid as it instructs him to “remain in a reclined position” and offers him a glass of water, only to discover he’s locked in the quarantine wing.

“I order you to release me immediately!” He bites in a harsh whisper without evening turning to address the nurse bot.

“The General has temporarily overridden your command authority due to medical incapacitation.”

“WHAT!?” Kylo’s disused voice cracks as the glass smashes against the floor.

“The General has already been alerted that your readings met the requirements he dictated for you to be taken off long-term sedatives. He ordered your discharge and status be finalized only after he personally examines you.”

So he’s a prisoner on his own ship. “Connect me with him now!” he chokes out. He as much as he’s trying to yell, he can really only let out a raw bark chased by a dry cough.

“The General has been alerted. He has ordered you rest here until his morning report tomorrow.”

Kylo leans against the door and concentrates; Hux should still be within reach on board. He sways in place and lets the door take on almost all of his weight, shifting though passing minds at the droid rattles on about exertion. Kylo considers exerting himself just a bit more to blast it, but the search is almost too exhausting as it is. Still, he knows exactly what he’s looking for. Hux’s mind and energy are unlike any other. He’s surprised to find it more relaxed than usual; this will be satisfying.

“LET ME OUT!!” He screams into Hux’s mind.

Before he breaks the link he hears Hux mentally curse. He smiles.

 

[ellwren]

Love this 

[fickle_tickle]

Hey guys! I recently read my first story and felt bad leaving it unfinished. Sorry to leave anyone hanging! I hope this is a good enough last chapter to make up for it  (for anyone who’s into relationship building stuff I think it will be!) Anyway, I’d love to know what y’all think because I’m very vain and also very bored in quarantine. ❤️

“Come in Ren.” Hux instructs coolly as the doors to his chambers slide open with a soft hiss, and his co-commander lumbers forward, deepening his glower at being ordered to continue on with what he was already in the middle of doing. Hux is so infuriatingly formal. He doesn’t so much as glance up from the displays at his desk. Kylo considers smashing one of the holoprojectors to get his attention, but he’d agreed to come here in the first place to get on with his day without worsening the ache in his head. Fighting wouldn’t exactly ease the process; Hux would occasionally make efforts to avoid conflict, but not when it came to upholding bureaucracy.   “Sit down.” Hux still hasn’t graced him with eye contact, but he’s begun to flick away a few of the windows of text between them. At first, Kylo thinks the man has worked up the audacity to ask him to sit across the desk like one of his underlings, but the general is currently occupying the only chair in his personal office. “Quit looming in my peripherals, Ren, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Hux pulls away from the screens for just a moment to glance past him at the expansive sofa. “There’s tea if you’d like it.” He comments off handedly, turning his attention back to scroll through the last of the projections as he takes a sip from a mug Kylo’s just noticed.   

 Indeed, a standard issue kettle, second cup, and plate of neatly arranged lemon slices sit on the dark glass of the coffee table, looking out of place against the tasteful design of the rest of the sitting area. Like Kylo’s own chambers, Hux’s living quarters are more spacious and tailored than the uniformly industrial scape of the rest of the ship, but nothing aside from the desk looks used, or even touched. The black suede sofa seems a price tag short of being brand new. A bit disoriented by the bizarreness of the situation on top of simple exhaustion, Kylo finds himself imagining Hux uncovering it from the squeaky plastics old women on backwater planets use before putting the kettle on to prepare for his visit. He sniffs and shakes his head a bit as if to clear it, crossing the room to sink into the surprisingly soft cushions. What’s wrong with him?

“That’s not necessary. I don’t appreciate being smothered…or confined.” He mutters.

“How presumptuous to think I ordered it for you. You’re the one who insisted on interrupting my time off duty.” Kylo raises an eyebrow, letting his gaze flit to the encrypted files hovering above the desk as Hux pauses to glare and take another sip of his own tea. “I didn’t say off work. Not as if I ever am, especially now. I’m still nearly a cycle behind where I’d like to be thanks to the time I spent on your… situation, even if the ship is technically running back on schedule.”

“I didn’t ‘insist’ on anything other than being released.” Ren grumbles darkly.

“Yes, well,” Hux finally minimizes the last of the files, picks up a pad from the desk, and strides over to sit across from him, “You’re lucky I got you to medical when I did. There was fluid building up in your lungs. I wouldn’t have had to put you under if you’d have taken care of yourself. Dantari Flu has been classified as pandemic level threat on quite a few planets, even if they are underdeveloped ones. It doesn’t just vanish if you ignore it.”

“You have your work, I have mine. I’m never off duty.” Hux closes his eyes to indulge in a quick roll before turning his attention to the pad.

“Your labs are passable, at least.”

“Then why am I here?” Ren’s temper is beginning to fray.

“Oh that’s simple. I don’t trust you.” Hux stares intently into Kylo’s eyes. “You could have rested in medbay instead.” He rises and closes the distance between them, placing a hand on Kylo’s shoulder as he shuffles to stand as well. “Stay put. I want to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, just like you do.” With that, he rests the back of his fingers against Ren’s temple. Mildly surprised when Ren doesn’t flinch away, he turns his hand to cup Kylo’s brow. The other man shudders almost imperceptibly. “Feeling chilled?”

“No.” Ren glares forward.

“I won’t send you back to medical even if you do. Your fever’s passed.” Hux sighs. “It’s important you be honest. I won’t pretend to know what your training with Snoke entails, but both our necks depend on you actually being fit for it. He’s already disappointed. Taking whatever time you need to rest won’t change that. However, we’re on thin ice, and we’ll fall through it if you have another poor performance, or Force forbid, collapse again.” At first, Hux assumes Ren is purposely ignoring him, but then he hears his ragged pattern of his breath. “I’d rather you not sneeze all over me. Do warn me if you’re about to.”

“I- I’m…” Kylo’s dark lashes flutter. He takes a deep sniff and scrubs the underside of his long nose with his fist. Hux sidesteps with an air of annoyance and writes ‘continuous sneezing’ in the lab notes. “Heh…eehhXXCHUhh!!” Ren’s polite enough to at least turn his head, but that’s of little consequence to the teapot. At first, Hux thinks it’s exploded within some kind of force field, but as the suspended droplets of splattered tea drift to seal back together and form the rough shape of the container, he realizes Ren’s managed to catch the debris. Hand hovering just above his lap with two fingers pointed directly at the pot, Kylo snuffles to hold back drips from his untended nose as ceramic shards shimmy along the edges of the tea and snap together, finally setting the dismally cracked but functional kettle back on the table with a soft click. Hux raises an eyebrow. ‘Reflexes improved’ is added to the notes.

“Gesundheit.” He fetches a stack of black handkerchiefs from the top drawer of one of the dressers and places it beside the newly resurrected kettle. Ren contemplates the pile for a second or two, then stares blankly at Hux. “What, Ren? Have you forgotten how to wipe your nose?”

“Why do you have so many of these?” Kylo supposes he assumed Hux carried a handkerchief out of properness, but this stash goes beyond what a man putting up the front of perfection would really need. In fact, he’s just now feeling well enough to consider how make of these things he’s gone through himself. Hux clears his throat, and Kylo senses uncertainty within him, which is truly an anomaly for the general.

At first, Kylo thinks he may have uncovered a significant weakness, but then Hux clears his throat again and concedes, “I am human, Ren, despite what my subordinates say.” in a soft but steady tone before punctuating the statement with a sip of tea. Oh. So he’s making the conscious decision to be vulnerable. Kylo would usually regard such behavior as foolish, but he’s known Hux too long to be manipulated into underestimating him. What could he have to gain from this? “Project Starkiller is nothing but a damn chunk of ice with a wisp of an atmosphere, and the labor force building it is mostly comprised of war prisoners. It’s hardly comfortable or sanitary to oversee. You’re not the only man in the First Order expected to push through a cold.” How could he not have known Hux was prone to illness? Physical weakness usually resonated off men in palpable waves, yet he senses no insincerity in Hux’s confession. How could he have possibly missed this?

“The difference between you and I,” Hux goes on, “is that I understand how to take care of myself when I have the privacy to do so. It’s a skill is suggest you pick up. Now, I’ll ask you again. Are you feeling chilled?” So, this is tactic to persuade him to be cooperative. Kylo hesitates. This all seems too transparent, too fair. Really, Hux is only doing what he’s asking of Kylo. It’s unnerving. Finally, Kylo gives a stiff nod. “I thought so. It’s not surprising, really, what with how drafty the Finalizer is.” Hux heads to his linen closet and reels out a thick red and black tartan blanket. “I understand ventilation is necessary when so many of the crew’s uniforms are full-body armor, but the rest of us are dressed for winter. None of the officers ever take their coats off.” He scoffs, handing the blanket over. Ren holds it inanely. “Don’t be stupid, wrap up.” Hux snaps. Ren scowls, but drapes the offending article over his shoulders and sags a bit under its comforting weight. ‘Sensitive to temperature drops, post fever.’

Hux sets the pad on the table and steps forward to place his fingers just under either side of Ren’s sharp jaw. “Now then, I’m going to apply some pressure.  You’re going to have to tell me what feels uncomfortable.” Being touched at all should feel uncomfortable, but somehow it doesn’t. Force, it’s been so long. Hux’s hands, usually gloved in leather, are thin and delicate, almost like a girl’s. Kylo would have expected everything about Hux to be cold, but the tips of his slim fingers resonate with a heat that reassures Kylo he is alive and real and solid. While Hux’s demeanor is professional at his warmest, his touch is far softer and more accommodating. “Your lymph nodes are still swollen.” He murmurs just to have something to say while so close to another person. “Swallow.” Hux hums softly and frowns. “Your throat still sore then, is it?” Kylo glares listlessly. He’d made an effort not to wince.

“…Yes, a little.” Hux turns away to scribble on the pad, then fills the second mug with tea and begins to dose it liberally with lemon juice. He smirks in a self-satisfied way at Ren’s narrowing eyes.

“If you didn’t want lemon, you should have taken the initiative to fix your own cup.”

“I didn’t want anything.” Kylo is more certain now than ever that Hux must have minored in condescension at military school. He would say majored, but he knows that Hux has mentioned that it was actually some kind of battle strategy.

“Even with chills and a sore throat? No wonder you still feel ill, Ren. You refuse to help yourself, even when I make it as easy as possible. You choose to be the mess that you are.” If looks could kill, both men would have dropped dead simultaneously. Luckily, the staring match is interrupted by Ren’s nose. Without breaking eye contact, he summons a handkerchief to prepare for an onslaught of sneezes, holding back until the last possible second. He won’t be able to keep Hux’s living quarters in one piece through the duration of the fit he feels coming on, and even though he’d like to destroy it, laying the room to waste involuntarily would not doubt give Hux the upper hand in their impending argument. There’s really only one other choice. At least he’s sitting down. Clamping his nose closed with the handkerchief, he launches forward. “ahh..ehXCH! hep’ SHUH!! exSHUhh! XCHUoo! heh….uhhg…” His own Force has left him pressed into the back of the sofa, sniffling frantically. Stifling has only agitated the tickling. Maybe if he lets just this one sneeze loose, he can rid his desperate nose of the irritation plaguing it. “He-Huh…SNffff..heh…haTCHUUUUUHHeh!!!” He feels his Force rush past his raw nostrils and lash against the coffee table, which he reaches out to assemble before enjoying the relief. He concentrates, fitting the glass back together. As he’s collecting the last of the tea, which he’s been holding just millimeters from the lush carpeting, he feels another prick deep in his nose. He groans in frustration.

“Ren?” Hux’s voice cuts through it all. It should be angry, flustered at least, but it’s perfectly calm. It’s the voice of a man who knows exactly what to do, or at least how to sound like he does. Kylo hurriedly sloshes the tea back in its cup and lets the stray handkerchiefs flutter to the floor.

“My nose-SNFFF. Ugh.. I’m going to sneh-heh! Huh.. Neh-not again!” he hitches. He’s not sure how much longer he can control the damage.

“Try blowing your nose.” A fresh, dry handkerchief is pressed into his free hand. He obeys; cupping it in both hands with the first damped kerchief doubled behind it, Ren lets out a resonating honk, then turns the wad to press firmly against his chapped septum. He pauses a moment, gives a cautious sniffle, and relaxes with an involuntary sigh. Hux is also relieved, though not visibly. He turns the other way to give Ren some semblance of privacy as his co-commander floats over another handkerchief. A few smaller but equally wet blows are followed by a light coughing spell, which, to Hux’s great satisfaction, is chased by a couple of swigs of tea. ‘Heavy congestion, dry cough’ he jots down next to ‘inflamed throat, swollen lymph nodes’.

“Blessings.” Hux is generous enough to use a tone that’s better suited for a single ticklish sneeze rather than the sloughing fit he’s just witnessed. Ren nods tiredly. “I expect you’re experiencing fatigue as well. You’ve just come off a sedative dosage meant for something with four times your body mass. It’s been just under week, by the way.” Honestly, he’s seen Ren bounce back from anesthetics used in post-battle patch-ups like no other, cybernetically enhanced soldiers included. Stupid force-users. Still, blaming the drugs will be easier on Ren’s pride, which he expects hurts most of all. Not that he cares. Kylo will be more cooperative if he’s coaxed, Hux reasons.

“Yes.” Ren’s voice has managed to drop an octave or so since his congestion has shifted. Hux nods curtly and takes note on the pad.

“One last thing then.” Hux gently cups Kylo’s face in both hands, pressing his thumbs under his eyes and along the sides of his reddened nose. “Experiencing any pain?” The two have locked eyes again, this time without tension.

“No.” Kylo answers in an uncharacteristically calm voice.

“Good.” Hux tuts professionally, and just like that, it’s as if they were never touching. “Well, Ren,” he says, scribbling ‘swollen sinuses’, “Looks like your symptoms have died down to amount to nothing more that a nasty head cold. I don’t expect to see you on deck regardless. You know better than I do that Snoke is watching closely. I suggest you hunker down until you’re actually ready to train, and that you turn the temperature in your rooms up a bit higher. Wrap up warm and get on with it. I’ll reinstate your command status.” Ren nods resignedly and begins to remove the blanket. “Oh, keep a hold of that. I’d rather you have it washed before it comes back in here. The same goes for these.” Hux hands over the remainder of the handkerchiefs. It’s so quick he can’t be sure, but Hux thinks he catches a glimpse of a smile. Hux would expect such a thing to look out of place on the knight, but instead it transforms his face entirely. For less than half a second, it’s as if Ren is someone Hux has never met. Caught off guard, Hux frowns. “I detest having your germs all over my things.”

“Of coarse, General.” Ren tosses back the last dregs of his tea and towers over Hux before plodding gracelessly to the doors. I hate him…

Ren quirks an eyebrow and tosses the blanket across his shoulders like a scarf. “I know.”

[prisma]

thank you for finishing it