Our story takes place in the year 1628 AD, in a galaxy far, far away. In a spaceship, in fact, one bigger than Donald Trump's big orange ass.
Snoke, the current Supreme Leader of the First Order, was walking away from his quarters, surrounded by guards as he made his way to his glorious chambers (or as 99.97% of the Fandom calls it, the Throne Room).
He was clad only in his weird golden ancient Chinese-esque robe, and he'd just gotten out of the showers...however that works, where he'd ventured to scheme and brood over his plan to take down the Resistance once and for all, to kill that meddling Jedi Rey for her defiance, and most importantly of all, to whack his sad, limp sith dick to the thought of Palpatine, who he'd hoped was looking down at him, proud of his work, in The World Between Worlds.
Unbeknownst to the rest of the Order, Snoke wanted nothing more than to get on all fours and take it from Master Palpatine in all of his holes, praising him for his genius. He had an undying mixture of love, lust, and admiration for the wrinkly white Sith Lord. The Force was okay with it, but he could NOT tell Lord Vader.
His very favorite one of his evil deeds had been the Execution of Order 66, which left the Jedi population depleted and most of their civilization in shambles. He jacked off to it every night in the hopes that some of Palpatine's diabolicalness would somehow enter him in that way, giving him but a sliver of his greatness. If he had his way, he'd be taking it from Daddy Palps all day, every day, letting the Sith Lord bend him over, tear off his golden robe and...
Holy shit, where was this fic headed again?
Ah, yes. The Supreme Leader and his guards made it to the entrance of his chambers.
Snoke threw open its large, heavy doors with the force, letting them hit the walls a lot harder than they needed to.
He gallantly strode to his throne, walking as dramatically and evilly as he could possibly walk.
He froze in his tracks as his eyes hit his throne.
"Oh, Supreme Leader," purred General Hux from where he sat, in the throne...and, coincidentally, in Kylo Ren's lap. "I'm afraid I've disobeyed your orders once more. I suppose this unacceptable insubordination calls for immediate punishment..." he spoke lowly, grinding against the tall man's lap, caressing his masked face.
Kylo Ren whipped off his mask then, oblivious to their now absolutely horrified Supreme Leader, who almost got hit square in the head by the thing. The guards appeared unaffected, having less expression on their faces than fucking drywall. No doubt, they were probably screaming inside.
"Oh, my disobedient apprentice," Kylo growled, his fingers on one hand tangling into Hux's short, gingery hair. "You have no idea."
Then, to Snoke's complete and utter horror, he kissed him.
And not the way you accidentally kiss your grandma on the mouth when she's aiming for your cheek at the end of Sunday dinner.
This was the 'I'm gonna fucking suck out your soul and all of your vital organs in a single gulp' type of kissing.
It was only when Kylo had his hand inside of General Hux's pants that the Supreme Leader threw up, straight on the floor, alerting the two of his presence.
The two men sprang away from each other as if they'd been burned, not very successfully, I may add. Hux fell straight on his ass, sliding awkwardly down the slightly inclined grounds around Snoke's throne, his boots making an awful squeal as he tried to keep himself from sliding any further.
Kylo hit his knee on the armrest on the way up, shouting profanities as he bounced on one leg, trying to dull the pain in his other desperately as he held it with two black, gloved hands.
"Oh dear..." Hux announced in the echoey throne room, getting up as fast as he could, brushing off his trench coat. "It seems I must return to my post. The ship is indeed getting close to the resistance!"
He all but ran out of the room, with Kylo hot on his heels. Hux turned to go left down the hall, paused when he noticed Kylo was about to do the same thing, then moved to go right, as if Snoke hadn't just caught them in the act and taking the same route to their respective posts would be that much more catastrophic...
Snoke ordered for his personal custodians to pressure wash his throne, 3 times in a row, before he dared to sit in the damn thing again.