Chapter Text
Rey’s room is small. She suspects it is supposed to have been a child’s bedroom, not designed for the queen size bed that she’d bought from Ikea, feeling like a real live adult with a pay check. The bed takes up most of the room, and her closet is actually the hall closet right outside her door.
BB is asleep in the middle of the bed when she leads Ben into it after quickly showing him the kitchen, the bathroom, the room that Finn and Rose share. She bends down to scratch the cat behind the ears and he wakes up with a mrow, big yellow eyes taking Ben in curiously.
Ben has closed the door behind him and sits down on the bed on BB’s other side, holding his hand out for the cat to sniff. BB does before leaning back and exposing his belly. “Don’t pet him there. He’ll claw you,” Rey warns as she runs her hands over the cat’s tail.
“I suspected that might be the case.”
“I’ve heard tell of cats who don’t mind it when you scratch their tummies, but BB’s not one of them.”
“Artoo was,” Ben says. “My mom’s old cat. Total fucker. Used to stare you in the face as he knocked your water glass off the table. But he was like putty in your hands if you scratched his belly.”
“BB’s a rescue. He’s a little skittish sometimes, but he’s sweet.” She bends her head down to kiss the cat’s nose. “Normally he sleeps in here with me, but I might kick him out.”
Ben swallows and nods and Rey scoops BB up in her arms. He yowls, clearly not ready to be moved from his bed, and she opens the door and drops him down onto the hallway’s floor. He looks up at her, his expression clearly betrayed before he stalks off to the kitchen to eat his feelings.
Rey closes the door again and turns to Ben.
What next?
This had seemed like the most natural thing following the Brown Line, following dinner. But now that they’re actually in her room, she’s aware of how nervous Ben looks.
“I—” Ben starts before stopping. He’s just sitting there, his hands on his knees, waiting for her to decide what she wants. So she sits down on the bed next to him and kisses him again.
This time, he doesn’t stifle his groan when her tongue slips between his lips. His hands come to rest at her hips and she twines hers around his neck, pulling his chest closer to hers.
His heart is hammering in his chest, she can feel that against her own as she licks her way across his tongue, memorizing the feel of it, shivering when he tries wrapping it around hers. He’s very much a novice kisser, but Rey doesn’t mind the sloppiness of his lips against hers, or the way their teeth keeps clacking. It’s not like she’s ever been phenomenally kissed, and she knows they’ll find their rhythm.
And they do. He’s eager, but more importantly he’s attentive. He notices her discomfort the first time his tongue goes too far back towards her throat and pulls back. When he tries something that makes Rey’s breath catch, or makes her hum in delight, he does it again, and again until she’s breathless. His hands tighten at her hips and god why is him holding her enough to make her head spin? Because her head is spinning, her heart is pounding, her breath is shallow, and she wants to consume him, to be consumed by him.
She pulls him back down onto the bed with her, running her hands up and down the sides of his face. His lips slow against hers as he rubs his nose against hers. “You’re incredible,” he whispers to her. “I—I have no idea what I’m doing. But you’re incredible.”
She kisses him. “I can show you,” she whispers back. “Unless it’s too much, unless you want to keep it slow.”
He laughs shakily. “I’m—I’m not sure. I’m not sure about anything. Just that you’re incredible. I’m sure about that.” He kisses her again, slowly. “I’ve never done this before,” he says again. “Like not even close. Which I think, retrospectively, is a good thing. I was not a person someone should date for a very long time.”
“And now?”
“Starting to hope that might not be the case anymore,” he grins into her lips. She nips at his lower lip, sucking it between hers again and runs her hands over his back. She can feel the contours of muscles there, sturdy and strong. He’s lying with his hips next to her, rather than between her legs, which she can’t help but feel a little frustrated with because she is starting to get to that point where she wants to wrap her legs around his waist and rub herself all over him. She lets go of his lip and her tongue is back in his mouth and it’s divine—being wanted this way. Being held by him, being with him right now. Even when he pulls his lips away from her again.
“What I’m trying to say,” he says, “Is that I don’t know what we’re…what we’ll…I don’t have a condom or anything with me.” He flushes adorably and Rey runs her hand over his cheek again.
“I’ve got us covered. Or rather, Finn does,” she says. She sits up. “I can go get one now if you’d like. So we don’t have to get it later. We don’t need to use it if we don’t go that far.”
Ben nods and she’s not wholly sure how to interpret the nod, but she pulls herself away from him. It takes more effort than it should—not because he’s holding her back, but because she just doesn’t want to let go of him. But she does, clambering off the bed and making her way to the door.
BB tries to come back in the moment she opens it and she nudges him with her foot. “No, kitty,” she tells him. “Finn and Rose will snuggle you tonight.”
She can hear them arguing about a play on the couch as she walks lightly towards the bathroom. True to his word, Finn had put the box of condoms in the cabinet behind the mirror and she grabs two little foil packets before glancing at herself in the mirror.
Her lips are red and her eyes are bright and her hair is a bit of a mess. It’s a good look on her, she thinks idly as she turns off the light and scurries back to the bedroom, slipping in quickly before the cat can follow her.
Ben’s sitting in the middle of the bed. His shoes are off, as is his necktie and the blazer he’d been wearing, and his legs are tucked up, his arms forming a bridge between them. Rey drops the condoms on the bedside table and crawls over to him. She kneels between his legs, his arms drop away, and she leans forward. Wordlessly, she nudges his nose with hers and his hand comes back to her hair and it shouldn’t be that exciting, his grip against her skull—except that it is. It’s like every place he touches her glows whenever he does, like her whole body is fizzling in anticipation of him.
Rey’s had sex before. Not good sex. She’s had enough conversations with Rose—no details allowed but certain details happening anyway—about what makes sex good, and Rey’s never had an orgasm with another person, never felt like she was an equal participant in the sex itself. And maybe part of that was self-sabotage (intimacy issues—forever with the intimacy issues) but she also thinks that it just…wasn’t good sex.
She quivers with anticipation of what it will feel like with Ben inside her if every nerve in her body seems to celebrate his hand in her hair.
He pulls her down so that she’s lying on top of him as they kiss. His hands don’t stay at her hips now. Now, they are running along the hem of her shirt which has begun to ride up. His touch is tentative as he slips his hand under the fabric and Rey gasps at the warmth of his hand, the way it sends a shiver across her skin. Goosebumps erupt on her arms and legs, and she feels her nipples stiffen a little more. She wonders if he can he feel them too, with her chest pressed against him like this. She can feel his cock, hot and hard against her leg through his pants. She wants to reach down and grab it, to unbuckle his belt and feel how hot his skin is and—
His touch is less tentative now as his hand climbs her spine, and Rey stops kissing, her eyes squeezed shut as he climbs higher and higher. He finds the clasp of her bra and she feels him freeze and knows that his head is racing with how to get the thing off when he has no experience doing so. She kisses him again and pushes herself up a little bit so that she can straddle his hips—he lets out a groan when her leg brushes against his cock—and she tugs her shirt up over her head and, smooth and practiced, unclasps the bra and tosses both to the floor by the bed.
She sits there, watching him. His eyes are dancing over her—her chest, her lips, her stomach, the spot right between her legs that is now pressed against his lower abdomen, back up to her chest, back to her lips, her eyes. She realizes he is holding his breath when he exhales slowly and he raises a hand to her chest.
“It’s so soft,” he blurts out.
She leans forward, grinning, her hair falling forward with her so that she has to brush it out of her face before she can kiss him properly. She kisses her way across his lips, across his cheek, down over his jaw until her face is buried in his neck and his other hand tightens on her hip. She sucks at the skin and a moment later he’s rolling them over so she’s on her back and his lips are crushing down on hers, hard and hot before he moves onto her neck, to her sternum.
She can feel his breath shaking against her skin as he kisses his way across the curve of her breast until he wraps his lips around her nipple and begins to suck at it. Rey sighs and arches into him as that glowing feeling spreads through her again, warm and pulsing in time with her heart. “No teeth,” she murmurs when they graze her skin and he pauses, circling her nipple with his tongue in a way that makes her moan and clutch as his shirt.
His shirt.
That he’s still wearing.
Rey sits up underneath him and he follows her lead, kneeling between her legs and she tugs at the buttons of his shirt. They’re small and frustratingly stubborn under her fumbling fingers, and Ben works at the one just beneath her. They alternate their way down the shirt until it’s loose enough to pull over his head and it—and the undershirt he’s wearing—join Rey’s shirt and bra on the floor and—
“Holy shit.”
He has an eight pack.
A real, honest to god eight pack. And pecs that are a fucking godsend and—and—
He’s grinning now as he leans forward to kiss her, clearly pleased with her reaction. Numbly, she reaches a hand up to his chest. His skin is hot, and firm and now it’s her turn to lean forward and just—she doesn’t suck on his nipple, though they’re there, a dusty red in the middle of each of his pecs. But she knows there’ll be a hickie on his pec tomorrow because of the way she’s sucking at it, the way her hands are running up and down his stomach now and he’s pulling her back down on top of him, letting her kiss her way across his chest, across his beautiful, beautiful abdominal muscles, his cock jutting against her skin, twitching every time she moves, making Ben’s breath hitch.
When her lips reach his belt buckle, she tugs at it and his hand flies to her wrist.
“Oh, do you not—”
“I want this to last,” he tells her and there’s a fierceness to his voice that makes her shiver. “Because I’m not going to. I’m toast the second you touch me. Trust me.” Then, a little more strained. “I want to. But. Just a little more time. Please.”
It’s the please that melts her heart.
She crawls up the bed next to him and kisses him again. She runs her hands through his hair as she does. It’s so soft, and silky, and how so unbelievably perfect, everything about him is perfect—his hair, his body, his heart. She could cry, she really could.
His hand drifts across her belly, up to her breasts again, which he palms again inelegantly. He twists at her nipple with his fingers, not quite comfortably, but not bad per se, and she rests her forehead against his and his hand slows as their eyes lock again.
His pupils are so dilated that she sees more black than brown there. He blinks lazily at her, his lips arcing into a gentle smile before he leans in and kisses her again.
She doesn’t think she’ll ever be over the feeling of his lips, really. They’re so soft, and plump and he’s really getting the hang of kissing her in a way that feels wonderful. His tongue rubs its way along hers, and she shivers again and pulls herself closer to him and is immediately comforted by how warm, and solid he is.
He’s here, she thinks. He’s here. He wanted me.
And I want him.
She wants him, and she has him, and her heart is so full it feels like it will explode with happiness. When had Rey ever gotten what she’d wanted? When had she ever wanted to cry because she was happy? Happiness too often feels like a myth, but she can’t stop smiling right now, even as happy tears threaten their way to the corners of her eyes.
“It’s going to last,” she whispers.
“Hm?”
“I know it’s not what you meant when you said I want this to last. But it’s going to last.”
And he’s on top of her again, his chest rubbing against hers as his tongue dives into her mouth. Her legs snap up to wrap around his midriff and she groans as she rubs against his abs. It’s not his cock, but god that feels good.
“Fuck I can feel how wet you are,” he tells her between kisses. She rocks her hips against his stomach. “Rey. Rey.” And he groans, low in his throat and his hand fumbles down between them to the button of her pants, popping it loose and unzipping. He yelps when she sits up and accidentally jams her head into his jaw.
“Sorry,” she says, kissing him where she’d knocked him, “Sorry. Sorry,” but her apologies turn to giggles as he starts to laugh and his hands leave her pants to cup her cheeks. She sucks his lower lip between hers again—fuck she likes doing that, likes the way it makes him hum happily—before she hooks her thumbs into her pants and underpants and starts to tug them down her legs.
Ben pulls away from her just long enough to pull them the rest of the way down her legs. She lets them fall open, Ben swallows, his eyes on her slit. He’s trembling again, and swallowing, and doing that thing where he moves his jaw when he’s nervous.
“Rey,” he whispers again. “I—”
“I’ll show you,” she tells him and he sits back down next to her, lying down again so that their faces are at a level. She kisses him and takes his hand and brings it between his legs.
He makes a noise in his throat when he touches her, and Rey bites her lip. His fingers aren’t hers. They are wider and blunter, and not connected to her mind. He doesn’t know whether his touch is too light, or too intense. But she’d promised to tell him. So she guides his hand up and down her slit, letting him get used to the feel of it. He’s breathing hard right next to her and she peeks over at him. He’s staring at her face, clearly concentrating.
“Where’s your clit?” he blurts out, and she huffs out a laugh. She takes his thumb and shows him, circling it around her before letting go of his hand. She sighs and closes her eyes and he keeps circling. It’s so nice—not to be the one touching herself. And because it’s Ben, she still feels all glowy and warm inside. For now, it is a relief. Soon, she is sure, it will build into something bigger than she’s felt before.
Ben sits up next to her and she opens her eyes again. He’s leaning forward, clearly wanting to see what he’s doing, that look of concentration still strong on his face. He thumbs over her clit in a different way and an unexpected moan rips out of her because it sends a searing heat straight through her. She tries widening her legs, arching her hips up towards his hand, trying to expose that bundle of nerves that’s the only thing she’s aware of right now a little bit closer to him. Her leg brushes against his hard on and she hears him gasp.
“Can I—can I finger you?” he asks.
“Go for it,” she says and sighs when he slides his pointer finger inside of her. It’s him that groans this time, not her.
“Fuck you’re so wet,” he pants as he wiggles his finger around inside her. “Holy—”
“Put in another and sort of—bend them.”
He does it. “Like this?”
“No, more like you’re trying to gesture me—” but she doesn’t finish saying it because he gets the motion and she cries out, louder than she had before. Somewhere in this apartment, Finn and Rose are going to hear her and she’s sure Finn will mock her for a long time but she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care because she feels like the heat is expanding everything inside her now. So quickly, so much faster than she’d thought given that he’s never done this before, but this is more than she knows what to do with, the way he’s curling his fingers inside her now, rubbing against her walls.
And then he remembers his thumb on her clit.
Rey’s head is spinning long after she’s stopped coming. She’s vaguely aware that she’s still moaning and gasping, vaguely aware that she’d come so hard that her cunt had gripped itself around his fingers as tightly as it could. She thinks she might even have called out his name—that would be a logical thing to assume.
She opens her eyes and smiles at him. He’s staring at her and looks wholly stunned by what’s just happened.
“Get over here, I want to kiss you,” she tells him and he pulls his hand out of her and is kissing her hard.
“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her. “Rey, I—”
She cuts him off with a kiss. She doesn’t want to hear anything except the way he groans when she slides her tongue into his mouth.
Her heart is still hammering in her chest. She’s still aftershocking. She’s never aftershocked for this long—not ever, not even with the new fancy vibrator she’d bought herself as a birthday present last year.
She wants him to feel it. “Ben,” she whispers. “Ben it’s time. If you want. I—”
He kisses her and sits up, leaning over to the bedside table. She sits up too, kissing his shoulder as he fumbles with his belt, with his pants and shoves them down his legs before ripping open the foil of the condom she’d gotten from Finn. He pulls the latex out and pinches the tip as he rolls it down—
Rey gulps and kisses his shoulder again. He’s—huge. Like. Really really big. Bigger than that fancy vibrator she’d bought herself, and she’d thought that was more girth than anyone needed really when she’d opened the box from Amazon.
“I’m—” he begins to say and she just keeps kissing his shoulder because she knows he’s going to say, “really not going to last long,” before the words have even come out of his lips. She tugs lightly at his arm and lies back on the bed and it’s in that moment she realizes just how big every part of him is. His torso is so long that, when their groins are lined up, her eyes are level with his beautiful, beautiful chest. He’s resting on his forearms, looking down and his hand is around his dick, trying to figure out if he should just…
“Can I—”
“No, I think I’ve—” they both groan as he presses his tip into her. She wraps her legs around him, pulling him in deeper, and all she can think is yes, yes this is what I wanted, as she stretches so deliciously around him. He doesn’t sheath himself fully in her. She looks up at his face—an odd angle from where she’s lying right now—and she can see that his eyes are screwed up and his cheeks are flushed and lips are shining from having licked them as he jerks his hips into her about five times before going very still and keeling over sideways, nostrils flaring, breathing hard, his eyes closed.
She presses a kiss to his chest, and his hand floats to the middle of her back, pulling her closer to him.
She pulls herself off him so that she can be level with his face again, kissing him slowly, deeply, running her hand over his cheek and through his hair again.
When he opens his eyes, she sees every sort of home she’s ever wanted in them. She sighs, tucks her head under his chin, and drifts off to sleep to his steadying heartbeat.