“Is that my shirt?” Kylux if you please <3
(Oh nooO you’ve discovered my weakness! College AU for ya.)
There’s a reason the university’s debate team is so highly ranked, and that reason is Hux. He has led their debate team for the last two years and they are now competing several states away, which is fine and good for the university but not so fun for Ren, who has not had to suffer for seven entire days without his boyfriend since they started dating. It is remarkable how Hux maintains a 4.0 while double majoring and whipping the debate team into shape, basically singlehandedly, and still finds time to indulge Ren. Now, draped over his bed, Ren finds himself woefully unspoiled, and he doesn’t even have anyone around to force him to put his laundry away.
The Skype call song rings out from his laptop and he reaches over to answer it without getting up from where he’s lying on his stomach.
“Are you in a god damn laundry pile?” Hux asks without saying hello.
“It’ll get put away eventually. And speaking of laundry, is that my shirt?”
Hux, several time zones ahead, is already dressed for bed, and is wearing flannel pajama pants and a shirt that is 100% absolutely Ren’s. It’s big even on Ren, and on Hux it’s hanging off one shoulder. It has a snarling wolf’s head on it and is so fully unlike anything Hux would normally wear that it’s obviously pilfered.
“I wanted a good nightshirt,” Hux says simply.
“Will it ease the pain of being robbed if I tell you I did it because it smells like you?”
It does. Ren can’t help but smile. “You should have left me one in return.”
“You’d have torn the seams, you oaf.”
“Hux, I’ve done yoga for like nine years. I’m graceful as shit. You can’t call someone an oaf just because they’re twice as thick as you.”
Hux hmphs. “Hulk, then. Also, I’m pretty sure most yogis don’t say ‘graceful as shit’.”
“Call it what you like, but just remember which of the two of us has fallen off a bench trying to sit on it.”
“I was drunk, Ren!” The look on Hux’s face is so wonderfully prissy, and the gleaming white of his exposed shoulder is so beautifully bare that Ren wishes he could reach through the screen and bite it.
“Well, so was I, and I managed to stay put.” Ren laughs at how Hux’s expression is only getting prissier. “Anyway, I’ll just steal a blanket or something out of your room. You use the good detergent. And the good cologne.”
“Don’t I deserve nice things?”
“That’s why you have me.”
They have more to talk about, a lot more, because Hux likes to talk and Ren likes to listen (and tease) and for all their snarking, they have missed each other a lot, it’s day five of seven and soon, soon enough, Hux will be back and get him to hang up his clothes. This little Skype session, this nest of clothes, it will do for now.