it's Adam's birthday! would you mind writing something kylux as though it's Kylo's birthday? thank you!
Kylo’s dreams of standing beside Hux during his coronation as Emperor slowly fade as he wakes up, rousing into full awareness with the help of soft fingers combing through his hair. He sighs softly, eyes fluttering open to see Hux lying beside him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Hux whispers, kissing Kylo’s head, making sure his hair is brushed out of the way, allowing his lips to graze his forehead. “But I’ve made breakfast for you.”
Kylo blinks, frowns. Hux has never made breakfast, for either of them. A droid usually delivers their morning rations to them; boring and tasteless processed food on a tray, slop that’s meant to be eggs and toast, a mug of coffee for Hux and glass of cold fruit juice for Kylo, eaten at their small, square table before parting ways for their respective work on their ship.
But the sweet smell in the air tells Kylo that this morning is different.
Hux is up and gone into the main chamber of their shared quarters before Kylo can ask what’s going on so he sits up in bed, utterly baffled by what he’s woken up to and part of him still wonders whether he’s still dreaming. Only moments later, Hux re-enters their bedroom with a lap tray in his hands, placing it down so its stands are either side of Kylo’s thighs, and Kylo becomes transfixed by the regale in front of him.
It’s a square plate instead of a bland tray, and upon it sits a neatly arranged assortment of food. There’s cooked meat on one side, with gorgeous-looking scrambled eggs nestled next to them, garnished with something green. A glass, droplets running down the side, of red fruit juice sits in the corner next to a smaller plate with two pieces of golden toast, a blue jam spread across it perfectly evenly. Kylo’s mouth waters. But the oddest thing is a small, chocolate cupcake in the corner with a single yellow candle flickering away to itself.
“Happy birthday, Ren,” Hux says, sitting down on the bed beside Kylo, kissing his cheek. “I’ve managed to clear your schedule for today and for tomorrow, so we can do whatever you choose.”
Kylo looks down at his food and then back to Hux, then to his own hands, his chest welling up with emotion.
“Well,” Hux shrugs, moving the fork to sit straight beside the plate. “By the Finalizer’s cycle, yes. You can’t possibly have forgotten when your own birthday is.”
“I don’t celebrate my birthday. Not since–” Kylo stops, remembering how Snoke had declared that Kylo Ren had been created from the ashes of Ben Solo; the boy is no more, the monster is alive. And with that, meant Kylo doesn’t have a birthday; created, not born. But he can’t dismiss Hux’s efforts. “I…I don’t even recall telling you about my birthday. Snoke wouldn’t approve.”
“I may have done my own research,” Hux says, blushing, obviously proud of himself. “I know the Supreme Leader forbids anything personal going on your personnel file so I used my own methods to explore your past.”
Kylo hums curiously, forefinger grazing across the jam on the toast, bringing it up to his lips to taste, recognising it immediately. It’s Corellian; sweet and tart but exactly what his father used to bake—
“This is bluefruit jam.”
Hux nods. “It is indeed. I apologise for the rather thick consistency. It’s my first time making jam and I’m very much an impatient fool when it comes to cooking.”
Kylo takes a bite of the toast, finding it fresh and hot, unlike the burnt and cold pieces he’s used to eating from the ship’s kitchens.
“Hux,” Kylo gasps. “It’s my favourite…How did you know? How could you possibly—”
“Straight from the horse’s mouth,” Hux shrugs. “Well. General Organa’s mouth.”
Kylo coughs, choking on the toast, reaching for the juice to quell his coughs. Hux pats him on the back but Kylo waves him away.
“How in the name of the Seven Hells did you get all of that from her?”
“I sent a man undercover,” Hux says, blasé, as though confused by Kylo’s shock. “There’s no one better to ask about what Kylo Ren’s favourite things are than his own mother. She was very willing to reminisce with a fellow ‘parent’ about her lost son.”
Kylo puts his head in his hands and groans.
“You sent one of your men undercover, into a Resistance base, spent money on the plan, all to get information about me from my mother? He could’ve been caught, our plans divulged to our greatest enemies if they’d managed to crack him. You’re insane,” Kylo laughs, eyebrows raised.
“Maybe so, but you’re happy with your bluefruit jam, aren’t you?”
Kylo hesitates but nods, taking another bite, finishing the first piece, his tummy filling with butterflies at the memories it’s bringing back.
The Solo-Organa’s had enjoyed cooking together, though none were good at it. Leia didn’t have the patience to wait, Han wouldn’t follow the recipes and Ben just wanted to eat as soon as possible, even if that meant licking the spoon of the mixture, but bluefruit jam was something that Ben’s father had apparently took a liking to when he was a young boy, and Ben was all too enthusiastic to try it.
“I love it,” Kylo says, a spot of jam on the end of his nose. “Thank you, Hux. This is…the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”
Hux smiles, kissing Kylo’s nose, getting the jam off before moving to kiss his cheek.
“You’re welcome, my Ren. Here’s to many more happy birthdays.”
Hux picks up the little cupcake and holds it between them. Kylo smiles, thinking of his wish, feeling like a young boy again, sat at the table with his parent’s homemade and messy birthday cake in front of him. Ben always thought long and hard about his birthday with and Kylo is no different. He hums, hesitates, and thinks. Power? Wealth? Glory? None of that means anything to Kylo without Hux.
He looks at Hux then to the candle, supposing that his childhood wish to have a real friend came true after all. The next best wish is for he and Hux to become rulers of the galaxy; powerful, wealthy and glorious.