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what comes the morning after

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Hux slept late into the morning, in part due to the heavy, dark black curtain blocking out most of the sun, but mostly thanks to the, err—he'd call it "strenuous" events of the night before. 

Sitting up, he glanced about, taking in the surroundings that he hadn't noticed last night, far more preoccupied with other more pressing matters. He was sitting in the middle of a large, four-poster bed; an anomaly in the modern era of bedroom aesthetics. Though really, anomalous was probably the best way to describe the rest of the bedroom as well. On the walls hung a variety of bizarre objects, from antique mirrors, to black-framed daguerrotypes, and even what Hux swore was a real goat skull, only with four horns instead of two. 

The more Hux looked, the more strange things he found. Yet, this bedroom explained a lot about the man he had encountered last night. From what Hux recalled, he had been tall and broad as any college linebacker, but dressed in such a bizarre fashion that Hux had been given no option but to notice him.

Black clothing from head to toe. Long, hooded cloak, back emblazoned with the name of some band Hux had never heard of. Ears full of more metal than the studded belt that supported his dark, baggy jeans. Plump, ruddy lips and eye makeup that would put a burlesque dancer to shame.All of that made sense now that Hux was seeing his bedroom. That man didn't just put on that aesthetic to grab single men at the local bar—he lived it. 

Hux shifted cautiously in the bed, partially expecting some demon to leap out of the cobweb-patterned covers and swallow him whole. Gratefully, he made it to the edge of the bed with little incident, only to find the clothes that had been torn from him the night before were gone. 

"Damn it..." Hux cursed under his breath, searching about the room, even daring to peer under the bed to see if his trousers had been accidentally kicked under, but he found nothing. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. How could he elegantly exit this one-night stand without his clothing? 

He was about to panic at the thought of having to ask the man he had just slept with for spare clothing, when he spotted something draped on the antique vanity near the wardrobe. It looked ancient, albeit recently stained far darker to match the rest of the room, but what drew Hux's attention wasn't the furniture, rather the light catching on what appeared to be a silky, black robe draped over the edge of the vanity. 

Gingerly, he padded across the carpet, grabbing the garment and holding it up to his eyes. It was obviously tailored to someone far broader than he, which left Hux wondering whether it was left out on purpose for him or not, but...well, it would have to do, until he found out what had happened to his real clothes. So he put it on, belting it tightly about his waist. He took a brief glance in the vanity mirror to make sure he looked acceptable, but didn't linger too long—he wasn't a superstitious man, but something about this room made him worry he might see someone else's face looking back at him if he stared more than a couple of seconds.

Taking a steadying breath, Hux finally dared to creak open the bedroom door. Poking his head into the hallway—decorated, to little surprise, in a similar fashion to the bedroom— he half-expected to find last night's lay standing there, like a creature out of a horror movie, ready to dispatch of Hux now that he was through with him, but found nothing.

In fact, the only thing he found was the smell of...the smell of...


The smell (and his curiosity) led Hux down the hallway, over a floor rug covered in alchemic symbols and a side table laden with black candles and one of those thicky painted portraits where you swore the eyes could follow you, no longer concerned with the macabre decor and instead obsessed with uncovering the cause and reason for such a strange house to smell of a comforting breakfast. Holding the front of his loose robe to his chest, he stopped just before the doorway at the end of the hall, hesitating a brief moment before peering around the doorframe.

What he saw both surprised and relieved him.

The kitchen looked by far to be the most normal room in the house, with far less gruesome decor cluttering the walls. The floor was covered in black and white tile and the cabinets stained the same dark shade as the vanity upstairs, but generally, the atmosphere here seemed more...homely. Which was certainly helped by the comforting smell of pancakes and pumpkin spice and the broad, half-naked man humming "Monster Mash" to himself over a simmering stove. 

For a moment, Hux could do little more than stare, especially at the man's hips, swaying back and forth to the tune, clad in a pair of boxers patterned with a flock of cartoonish ghosts.

"Oh, hey! You're awake." 

Hux's attention snapped up, cheeks flushed, realizing he must've been caught staring at the man's ass. Which, shouldn't be embarrassing, considering the nature of the night they had spent together. But Hux had always felt a little unsure of expressing his more carnal desires outside of the bedroom.


The man smiled at him, brushing aside a piece of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Last night's makeup still smudged around his eyes, though it didn't prevent them from looking warm and inviting as they glanced at Hux. 

"You sleep well?"

Hux nodded.

"Awesome. How about you sit down, breakfast is almost done."

Hux furrowed his brow as the man turned back to the stove. He had never had a one-night stand make him breakfast before. Not to mention one who looked like a member of Black Sabbath.

He took a seat at the table and tried to focus his attention on the centerpiece of plastic pumpkins and decorative black flowers, but he found himself glancing back at the man, who had begun to mumble a song Hux recognized from "Rocky Horror," though he'd never seen the movie himself. Now he had more freedom to take in just how built the man was. Like the fridge he stood next to, minus the bright pumpkin magnets. Hux had felt up a good lot of that muscle last night, but the bedroom had been so dark he hadn't been able to appreciate it, visually. But now, in daylight and without a shirt, he could drink it all in. 

Hux's stereotype of "goths" had pegged them all as skinny and sallow, but this man was neither. The morning light was kinder to him than Hux had expected. Frankly...he was gorgeous.

A gorgeous, goth man was making him breakfast. Hux pinched his wrist beneath the table, unsure if he was still dreaming, or not. 

"Hope you're hungry," the man said, setting a couple of plates down in front of Hux. "You seemed pretty wiped out last night, so I made a lot."

Hux balked. He had been expecting maybe a couple of the pancakes and a cup of coffee at most, but before him laid an entire spread. 

Atop a large platter sat a precipitous stack of pancakes that smelled like an enticing blend of pumpkin spices and cooked apples, topped with an expertly drizzled crosshatch of syrup that resembled a cobweb. On the side lay several strips of bacon and two sunny-side-up eggs with squiggles of ketchup radiating out from the yolks, making them look like bloodshot eyeballs. Finally, the man set down a heavy black mug with a little fanged mouth and a pair of ceramic wings, resembling a bat. 

"I guess from your accent you might like black tea best. I just got pumpkin chai, hope that works out for you." The man took the seat across from Hux with his own breakfast, plates somehow piled even higher than Hux's. 

He took a long sip of what looked like a pumpkin smoothie, poured into a frosted, ghost-shaped glass. Hux would be wondering just how many items in the man's house were Halloween-themed, if he wasn't busy salivating over the ample breakfast. 

He couldn't even remember the last time anyone had made him breakfast. Certainly, not since he was a boy.

Carefully, he picked up the bat mug; it was filled near to the brim, but he was determined not to spill it. Blowing gently on the surface, he took a quick sip. 

It was pleasant, if slightly over-brewed. Hux didn't mind, he liked his tea strong.

He took a second, longer sip before speaking. "This is quite a surprise. Thank you, ah..."

It hit Hux suddenly, that he didn't remember the man's name, or if they'd even exchanged names at all. He closed his mouth into a dumb line, looking away in embarrassment as he wracked his brain through an answer. But the man only chuckled through a mouthful of eggs, swallowing before he answered.

"It's Kylo. What about yours?" 

To be frank, Hux almost never gave his name to one-night stands. He never could quite gauge who was normal, and who could turn out to be a total nut, and thus he'd become increasingly cagey with personal information. Additionally, he wasn't all that fond of his name...though a man who called himself "Kylo" certainly didn't have room to judge.

Ah, to hell with it. The man had given him a night to remember and made him breakfast, Hux owed him a little something back.

"It's Armitage." 

"Armitage? That's gonna be hard to shout in bed," Kylo replied. Hux couldn't help but let out a laugh, the last bit of tension easing out of his body as he cut into the first of his pancakes.

"Well...I suppose if that's a concern..." 

Hux let a smile flit across his face, sliding his foot forward beneath the table, until it brushed against Kylo's. "You could always call me Armie."

That earned him a bit of blush and a grin from Kylo. 

"Armie..." It rolled off his pierced tongue in a way that had Hux shivering, thinking of yet another night in that four-poster bed, wrapped in Kylo's strong arms. "That's more like it."

It took a fair amount of willpower to not stand up and throw himself at Kylo, but breakfast looked and smelled too good to ignore. After, Hux reminded himself, as he took a bite of pancake and washed it down with a hearty gulp of tea.

Because he knew for sure, now, that this would be more than just a one-night stand.