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Chapter Text

Rose’s house is warm and full of gorgeous decorations, with two parents who seem to make a sincere effort to make their holiday season magical. 

A huge tall tree nearly touches the ceiling, stuffed full with a mix of store-bought and handmade ornaments. Rose and Ben’s little handprints from when they were kids, all manner of popsicle sticks and cardboard shapes glued together with their old school photos. There’s always a fresh batch of cookies being baked or trips to the farm market to gather gourmet treats for gift baskets for neighbors and family. She practically lives at the Solo’s house, a far cry from her austere, celebration-less foster home, but the holiday break is rapidly approaching, and Rey won’t see any of them for almost two weeks.

The Solos never seem to mind the amount of time she spends there since she’s polite and quiet. She and Rose mainly study, listen to music, or play video games together. They’re “such good girls,” Mr. Call me Han Solo likes to say often.

Rose’s older brother, Ben, mostly leaves them alone, but since Rey started junior year, he’s been noticeably more interested in her. He has started saying hi and waving when he passes them by in the hall at school, but he just mostly looks at her long enough to make her blush and hug her arms around herself. He has always been friendly, though, asking her how school was or some other benign nicety before he disappears into his bedroom for the remainder of the night. 

With finals over and just one more nothing day left of school, Rey and Rose are making paper bag snowflakes and little yarn ornaments. Rose kept insisting she take them home and at least decorate her room, but Rey knows that she’ll just get in trouble for getting tape on the walls or something, so she opts just for the tiny little yarn hats they’ve made.

“I can’t believe I’m not gonna see you for two whole weeks!” Rose laments as she dots a paper bag with hot glue before fanning it out to its full glory. She admires it momentarily before setting it on the dining room table. “This sucks.”

Ben is sprawled on the living room couch nearby, playing Mario Kart, in a recently more frequent occurrence of not hiding in his boy cave. “What are you doing for the break, Rey? Any big plans?”

She has to laugh. The Solos are probably going skiing or hosting a lavish party with all their rich friends. She will probably just re-read the same five books she’s carried with her in her dingy backpack since she was small or watch old movie reruns with her foster parents. They don’t believe in celebrating in any mainstream way, as it is wasteful and excessive. They might take her to church on Christmas Eve and get her a new pair of socks or other essentials to maintain the bare minimum of having her look presentable and well taken care of, at least on the surface. 

It’s better than the alternative, the Christmases she prefers to forget.

Being at the Solo’s is enough. Knowing that even if she doesn’t truly belong here, she gets to visit for a while makes her happy.

“Ben, be quiet,” Rose hisses, knowing full well there are no ski trips in Rey’s immediate future.

“What?” he sits up and places his controller down. “I’m just curious.” He gives Rey a warm smile and props his hand on his chin as he leans over the back of the couch to face them. 

“It’s okay,” Rey smiles sheepishly. “My family doesn’t really celebrate Christmas. It’s just gonna be a regular week for us.”

“What?” He asks, seemingly flabbergasted. “Like not even commercially ?”

She giggles. “No, not even commercially. It’s fine. I’ll get lots of reading done.”

Maybe she could borrow some of Leia’s books if she asks nicely enough. But she’s always embarrassed to ask them for anything, even if it’s temporary.

“You should stay here with us,” he insists, and Rey nearly drops the yarn she’s holding.

“I’m sorry?” Rey asks, her eyes darting to Rose, now paused mid-glue.

“Ben, I don’t think Rey wants to be stuck with our crazy-ass family for two weeks. We’re fine in small doses, but-”

“Come on, Rose, you know you’d love it,” He insists. 

Rose’s expression softens. “Rey, would you really want to stay with us? I can ask my mom as soon as she gets home. Like, would your parents be okay with it?”

Rey shrugs, suddenly embarrassed at being the center of attention. The sheer possibility of getting to participate in a Solo family Christmas is overwhelming. Rey can hear the unspoken questions Rose will never ask, but Rey’s anxious mind can’t help but supply. 

Can you accept us being nice to you for longer than a few hours? Can you handle pretending to live a life that will never be yours? Do you think you even deserve it?

She’ll have a firsthand seat to everything that isn’t hers. Maybe it would be better to long for it from afar instead of having it shoved in her face twenty-four hours a day.

“I mean, it’s a lot to ask; I’m not sure if it’s fair to–”

“Don’t be silly, Rey,” Rose says warmly, covering Rey’s hand in hers. “My parents adore you. It’s no trouble at all. If you want to be here, consider it done, okay?”

Rey’s eyes well up with tears. There is still a possibility that her parents will say no or that being here will be too hard on her, having a glimpse of a life that could never indeed be hers. Rey’s parents will probably be relieved of not having to feed her for two weeks, so she has no excuse other than her guilt at possibly taking advantage.

“Come on, Rey, you know you wanna,” Ben teases in a kind voice that surprises her further.  

“Someone’s eager, ” Rose laughs. 

“Maybe I’m feeling the Christmas spirit,” Ben shrugs, immediately flopping back down to resume his virtual race. “It’ll be fun. And Rey can take my place in all the festive shit I don’t wanna do,”  he adds. 

“No, no way. You’re not getting out of Santa photos!” Rose hollers. “It’s tradition!”

Ben momentarily raises a middle finger up in the air before resuming his game. 

“He’s so annoying. I’m so sorry in advance. You may run out of here before the break is over,” Rose jokes. “I know we’re too old for it, but it makes Mom happy, and we always get a kick out of the look on that poor Santa’s face when we walk up to him and ask for what we want for Christmas.”

Rey suddenly feels warm inside, like for the first time in a long time, or possibly ever, that she might belong somewhere—that she is wanted. 

“I think I can manage,” she grins. 

🎄🎄🎄

As expected, Rey’s foster parents are thrilled, even giving a rare smile when she informs them she’ll be out of their hair until New Year’s.

She packs her meager backpack with as many clothes as will fit, knowing full well that if she lacks an ugly Christmas sweater or fancy enough dress, Rose will let her borrow one.

When she returns to their home the next day after school, the oven is already fired up with cookie baking, there’s holiday music blasting out of every Alexa in the house, and there are even more garlands and lights strung up than the day before. Leia must be off of work already.

The afternoon passes in a blur, with Rose giving Rey a tour of where she’ll be staying for the week, her very own guest room, insisting that after more than a few days, the allure of the trundle bed will wear off. After sampling and packing up the cookies in festive tins for Leia’s vast network of giftees, they settle on the couch for a movie marathon with popcorn and hot cocoa. 

Dinner is a casual affair with family-style takeout from a nearby chain restaurant, and Rey is simply overwhelmed by the abundance. She takes the smallest scoop of each thing and simply takes in the loud, chaotic loveliness of the Solos, feeling a warm glow inside. 

“Rey, you want more of this?” Ben proffers the spoon from a large pan of mac and cheese. Somehow, he managed to sit next to her instead of his usual seat. 

“No, that’s okay,” she shakes her head. “I already had some.”

“Dude, our fridge isn’t gonna fit all this. You barely ate. Here.” Without hesitation, he piles another spoonful onto her plate, and she realizes just how much she wants it but how afraid she is to take more than she already has. 

“Um, thanks,” she smiles softly, and Ben winks in response. 

He pours her more soda and gives her the first slice of the free chocolate cake that came with their meal. At some point, she can feel his arm casually draped across the back of her wooden chair. 

When it’s time to clean up, he grabs her plate before she can even compute and tells her to relax. She isn’t sure what’s gotten into him, other than the supposed Christmas spirit, but she can’t help but enjoy how nice it is for someone to care about her like this, even if it’s just her friend’s big brother.

Rey has never bothered to truly study him, mostly letting him exist in her periphery, someone who is there but not for her to worry about. But now that he’s paying so much attention to her, she cannot ignore the fact that Ben Solo is exceptionally handsome.

He’s one year older than them, but it looks like he’s already in college. He’s tall and athletic and has the most beautiful hair she’s ever seen on a boy. It’s long, shaggy, curls at his neck, and sweeps over his forehead ever so elegantly. He’s got the pinkest lips, and they’re so full and soft that she has to stop herself from reaching out to touch them now that he’s suddenly sitting so close to her. 

She could never imagine him belonging to her, though, like everything else in the Solo household. But she’ll enjoy his interest while it lasts, she supposes. She always wanted a big brother.

🎄🎄🎄

After staying up a little too late to learn to use beach balls to practice the choreography to Taylor Swift's Willow and have deep talks about Rose’s crush on Armie Hux, global warming, and the true meaning of Christmas, Rey finally makes it to her guest bed to get some sleep. 

The bed is fluffy and soft and much nicer than her bed at home or even Rose’s trundle bed she typically spends the night on. The sheets smell like fresh detergent, and the room is so nicely decorated. The bedside table even has little travel lotions and chocolates in it for guests. 

It hasn’t even been a full day, and Rey feels like she’s living in a dream. She falls asleep so quickly that she doesn’t even have time to ruminate on how the other side of all his good is how temporary and fleeting it is.

When she wakes, it feels like all she did was blink. But it’s still dark. The bedside digital clock reads two o’clock, and she considers drifting back to sleep, but she has to pee. When she’s done using the bathroom, she realizes how cold it is and grabs a cardigan from her bag. As she wraps it around herself, her stomach starts to growl. She and Rose wore themselves out dancing and talking, and she had been hungry then, but Rey had been too shy to ask for food so late at night after all the snacks and the extravagant meal. 

She feels guilty for wanting more food but then remembers Ben repeatedly encouraging her to eat whatever she wants to the point of being just a little overbearing. It’s sweet, though, she thinks as she enters the kitchen.

She could get a small piece of cheese or a glass of milk to help her sleep.

She tiptoes down the stairs, and the house is mostly quiet, save for the buzzing of the appliances. There are so many devices here, little red and green lights illuminating the house from every corner, almost like it could be Christmas here all the time. 

She opens the fridge, careful not to make too much noise and slides open the cheese drawer to select a string cheese and set it on the counter nearby. The milk jug is almost empty, and though there is another full one behind it, she hesitates to take the last of it. Her gurgling stomach, however, demands a bit more protein, so she decides she will push herself just this once to take what she needs. 

Closing the door, she turns around to find a small glass. Rey shrieks, and the milk jug falls to the floor with a thud as she runs right into a wall. Or, to be exact, the broad, bare chest of Ben Solo.

Chapter Text

“Don’t be scared, it’s just me,” Ben reassures her, hands firm on her shoulders and trailing down her biceps slowly. “You okay?”

Rey nods, removing her hands from where they’d covered her mouth in shock. “Yeah, you startled me,” she responds, feeling humiliated at being caught and hoping he’s not mad, which seems silly, but she knows if she did this at home, she’d get a long, drawn-out lecture and new locks would appear on the cabinets. Thankfully, the milk has not spilled. 

“Hungry, huh? I knew you didn’t get enough to eat.” His eyes locate the meager cheese stick on the counter. “Is that all you’re gonna have?” he marches over and holds it up for her appraisal. “What do you want? I’ll make you something.” 

“No, it’s okay. I just wanted my stomach to stop growling,” she insists, reaching for it. He deposits it in her hand. 

“How about some yogurt? Or a bowl of cereal? Or I can make you a grilled cheese.”

She laughs. “No, please, that’s too much.”

“Don’t be silly,” he waves her off and starts pulling items out of the fridge until a small smorgasbord is formed on the counter. “Come here,” he finally says.

“Okay,” she says meekly, standing next to him. 

He pops open a glass jar of fancy yogurt, the expensive kind with a French name on the side and muddled fruit at the bottom. He pulls a spoon out of the drawer, and she licks her lips in anticipation. 

Passionfruit . 

She’s never had it before, but it sounds incredible. 

He dips the spoon all the way to the bottom, scraping at just the fruit. But instead of handing it to her, he swipes his finger through the orangey mixture. 

“Here, try this and see if you like it first,” he offers, holding his finger inches from her mouth. It’s then she realizes he intends for her to lick it off his finger. For some reason, it makes her press her legs together.

Her mouth opens tentatively, and before she can lean forward, he spreads it across her bottom lip ever so gently and watches her intently as she licks it off. 

It’s a bright burst of flavor on her tongue, and she moans involuntarily. “Wow, yeah. I like it.”

He crooks his mouth into a lopsided grin. “I knew you would,” he remarks. “Have some more.”

This time, instead of dotting her lips with it, he pushes his finger directly into her mouth. Unsure of what to do, she closes her lips around it and sucks it clean. 

Ben’s lips part and he inhales shakily, pressing down on her tongue and lingering again on her lip before pulling his finger away. 

“Good?” he asks, and she finds it almost hard to hear him because her heart feels like it’s beating in her ears. 

He then swirls the spoon, mixing the fruit into the vanilla yogurt, and gathers a spoonful. She lets him feed her, spoon by spoon, until the jar is empty. It’s hypnotic, the way he watches her eat with such fascination like he’s doing more than just making sure she’s fed.

When she’s done, he sets the jar and spoon down. She isn’t hungry anymore, but she feels needier than ever. “Can I get you anything else?” he asks sincerely, gesturing to the small pile of food. 

She shakes her head no. She likes the lingering taste on her tongue, her lips tingling to be kissed. 

“You sure?” he asks, stepping closer, towering over her now, and his eyes are her only focus. He’s studying her face, perhaps to assess if she’s still being too polite, too shy to ask for more.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” he asks after a few beats. 

“I-um,” she stammers, her cheeks growing hot. 

“I’m really glad you stayed with us,” he saves her from having to answer. “You deserve to have a nice Christmas.”

She shakes her head in disagreement. 

“No, you do,” he hooks a finger under her chin and forces her to look at him again. “I can tell you don’t ask for much. But you deserve it. You can have whatever you want, okay? Don’t be shy.”

Rey starts to understand then that he isn’t just talking about food or cheesy Santa photos. “You have a little something here,” he says softly, his eyes hooded as he glances at the spot on her chin and wipes away the stray yogurt.

Before she can thank him, he presses his lips to hers. Her mind is reeling, knowing that this is what she wanted to happen since he put his finger in her mouth, but unable to believe it’s really happening. He presses her body against the counter with his and wraps his hands around her face, and she feels pleasantly trapped by him.

His kisses are chaste at first, just gentle, soft presses of those maddening soft lips, but she can feel something hardening against her hip. 

Her eyes pop open while Ben’s remain closed, his hands trailing softly down her neck. She tries to relax, but she’s terrified and can’t believe her first kiss is Rose’s brother . She doesn’t know where to put her hands or how much to kiss him back or–

“Mmm–fuck,” he groans pleasurably, teasing his tongue through the center of her lips until it’s touching hers. 

Before she can process what he’s doing, his hands are sliding down her clavicles and firmly squeezing what she’s just started to acknowledge as breasts. She squeaks loudly in response and slaps her hands against his chest without meaning to.

He backs away, his voice laced with concern. “What’s the matter? Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just that no one has ever touched me there,” she admits, unable to look him in the eyes. 

“That’s a shame,” he remarks. “No one is taking care of you at all, hmm?”

She has a bed, a roof over her head, clothes and shoes, and regular meals. But no one hugs her, holds her, or spoils her in any way. And absolutely no one ever touches her like that . She’s never been in a position to care much about boys. There is always something more urgent or pressing, the constant keeping of her head above water in most aspects of her life.

His face is expectant as he waits for her to respond. She finally shakes her head no as the heavy weight of her loneliness settles around her shoulders.

“That changes tonight, okay?” he responds warmly, gripping her waist tightly. “ I’m gonna take care of you now.”

Rey nods dutifully, and despite her fear, she lets him kiss her again, this time wrapping her legs around his waist as he swipes the rest of the food aside and lifts her to sit on the counter. He really seems to like that, pressing his erection against her even harder, her head knocking against the upper cabinets. 

He’s ravenous, kissing her jaw and neck now, hands sliding up her back to pull her body entirely against his. It’s all happening so fast, but she must admit she likes it. She’s thrilled he’s so interested in her and wants to do these things with her, even if she’s probably not ready for any of it. It’s an unexpected, dizzying turn of events like an elevator suddenly dropping into freefall.

It’s Rose’s brother, she reminds herself. He’s such a good big brother to her best friend, and he’s never been anything but kind to her. Maybe Rose might be a little annoyed, but then she’ll probably be happy for them. It’s so exciting that she can’t help but go along with his increasingly intimate touches until he lifts her off the counter and carries her down the hall. 

She pulls away, breathless, her arms looped around his neck tightly to keep from falling even though he’s supporting her weight effortlessly all on his own. “The food–” she starts, worrying they’ve left it to spoil.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll get it after,” he insists, leaving Rey to wonder exactly after what and how long until they are in the “after” stage of this evening.

If this is the beginning, there is an end that she’ll have to anticipate. But it’s only night one of her stay. They have close to ten glorious days ahead, in which she might get to kiss Ben on every single one of them.

And she likes kissing Ben. 

He clearly likes it, too, seeing as he’s unable to stop himself from caressing her lips with his own and swirling his tongue inside her mouth like he’s memorizing its interior. It isn’t long before they’re in his dark, cool room, and he’s shutting the door behind them. 

Ben walks them over to the bed and sits down, keeping her in his lap like he’s afraid she’ll flit away like a frightened animal if he releases his hold on her. She isn’t entirely sure she won’t try to run, scared as she is at how quickly things are escalating. She’s now acutely aware that she’s straddling him on his bed, and he has a huge, unmistakable boner pressing against her center, prodding her belly. 

“Wait–” she interrupts his relentless mouth and pulls away. It’s then that she doesn’t know what to say to his confused, handsome face. Her mind is frustratingly blank, and she somehow feels rude for interrupting him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice thin and reedy like he’s already crushed. 

She laughs nervously. “Oh no, of course, I do,” she offers him a grin as if reassuring him that her own concerns are obviously secondary. “It’s just–

“I know it’s your first time,” he smirks. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it special for you.”

Her blood runs cold, and Rey suddenly realizes she’s in way over her head. She doesn’t know how to tell him she’s not ready for this because she literally had her first kiss just a few minutes ago. Plus, Ben never even seemed remotely into her until yesterday. And what if Rose, or worse, The Solos, find out and kick her out of their house? 

She’s already taken so much advantage of their generosity. They might hate her for this or at least think way less of her. Maybe it would be different if she and Ben took it slow and started dating and got everyone used to the idea–

“Hey,” he says gently. “What are you thinking right now?” 

He’s so perceptive, it’s disarming. 

“Look, it’s okay to be nervous. Remember what I said? I’m gonna take care of you from now on. Just relax and let me.”

Rey then remembers his kindness throughout the day and evening, how he’s continued to ensure she has everything she needs and more. He seems to genuinely care about her. Maybe she’s being overly dramatic. 

Besides, who would be better to lose her virginity to than her best friend’s brother? Someone she can trust and rely on? He wouldn’t break her heart, at least on purpose. Rose would be so angry at him if he mistreated her. She cannot find a reason to distrust him.

Plus, she is pretty curious about all things sex-related, and Ben really seems to know what he’s doing. She can’t deny how much she enjoys being held by him and touched in places she’s never been touched before. It then occurs to her that she’s never been this horny in her life. 

“Okay,” she nods finally, hoping she’s making the right choice.

Chapter Text

“Look, it’s okay to be nervous. Remember what I said? I’m gonna take care of you from now on. Just relax and let me.”

“Okay.”  

“That’s a good girl,” Ben praises her, making her cheeks flush even warmer. She involuntarily bucks her hips against him, and he gives her a low growl, lifting her to flip their bodies over until her back lands with a soft bounce on the mattress.

She covers her mouth to stifle her surprised giggle, and Ben wastes no time covering his body with hers, pressing her firmly into the mattress, making his hardness extra known as he grinds it into her sensitive mound.

“Ah-” she whimpers. How can a body part made mostly of blood be so hard ? 

“Let’s get these off,” he remarks, hooking his fingertips in the waistband of her pajama pants. 

“Already?” she says nervously, and he laughs at her like she’s told a hilarious joke. 

“Yes, already. Don’t be so shy. You’re beautiful. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Um, okay,” she agrees tentatively, lifting her hips to aid him in removing both her pajamas and her panties. 

He doesn’t let her clamp her thighs together modestly, spreading his palms over her warm skin exposing her center to his hungry gaze. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he declares with a pleased expression. 

She watches in abject horror as his face lowers and his mouth opens. 

He’s gonna eat me out. Oh god.

Expecting it to be humiliating and gross, she instead finds, to her surprise and delight, it feels positively incredible.

His tongue is long and firm, stroking through the entirety of her slit and swirling around her sensitive bud. His fingertips dig into her soft, sensitive skin, keeping her spread wide. 

Rey can’t help but cover her face with her hands and try to block out the lurid, wet sounds emanating from below. But he won’t let her hide for long and reaches to grasp her wrists tightly in one hand, dragging them down. His intense glare is startling, and her breath hitches as she takes in the sight of him devouring her soaked cunt.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he remarks in between licking and sucking her sensitive skin, teasing her clit and hole with the pointed tip of his tongue. He reaches up and pushes her shirt up over her breasts, kneading them briefly before exposing them completely. She knows somehow that if she tries to cover them, he’ll just do it again, so she resigns herself to it. It makes his licking more fluid and enthusiastic, so she supposes it’s worth it.

He’s managed to get her to rest her calves on his shoulders and, in his eagerness, is lifting her hips off the mattress. As it starts to feel impossibly good, she lowers her guard a bit more and incorporates the rocking movements as her own, tilting her hips and grinding against his greedy mouth, unable to help herself from reaching down to fist his silky hair.

He growls with pleasure and focuses all of his attention on her throbbing clit, forming a vacuum with his lips in which his tongue is flickering so fast she thinks she might scream out from the intense pleasure it brings. 

Clamping one hand over her mouth and keeping the other entwined in his hair, she embraces the wire-taut tension of her impending orgasm. Ben slips a finger past the tight ring of her entrance and pushes inside. It’s only for a few moments of intense pressure against her front wall, and before she knows it, her feet are kicking at his back, and she’s writhing on the bed. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as she grasps at the bedspread on either side of her to tether herself to reality.

Ben quickly stands with a smug smile plastered on his face and pulls his shirt and basketball shorts off in quick succession. Rey has barely come down from her earth-shattering climax, too stunned to move as she watches his nude form slowly reveal itself.

Her eyes go straight to the monstrous thing bouncing forward between his legs as his shorts fall to the floor. It lives up to the reputation it built by pressing insistently into her body the whole time they were making out. Her legs snap shut defensively. 

“Not yet,” he smirks. “Sit up first.”

Rey slowly rises, choosing to look at his face instead of that thing, and feels a gush of release pool onto the blanket beneath her, deepening her ongoing embarrassment. She’d never thought of her body as this wet, humid thing it’s become, and now she feels like she can’t stop leaking and oozing everywhere. 

“Take off your shirt,” he insists, and having no good excuse as to why she shouldn’t, given where this is headed, she does it, shyly casting her gaze downward as she sets it on the bed beside her. 

“You’re beautiful,” he remarks, and she smiles for a brief moment. The temptation to continue looking downward becomes stronger, however, when she hears the soft shuffle of skin. He’s taken himself in his fist and is clearly jerking off, and there is no avoiding the movements in her periphery now.

His hips jut forward, and her eyes struggle to focus on the close-up view of his thick thatch of pubic hair, the lingering scent of his body wash.

 “Come on, I did it for you,” he insists, waiting for her to take action.

“I don’t- I don’t think I know how,” she speaks truthfully, hoping it may earn her a reprieve from humiliating herself more than she already has. She stares up at him beseechingly, but he just smiles.

“It’s easier than you think. Let me teach you,” he offers as if it is some sort of kindness. 

He did just do it for her, even though she didn’t ask him to, but maybe this is just what it’s like–keeping things equal. It’s enough to push her to try, and she reaches out tentatively to hold him gingerly in her fingers.

“Like this,” he demonstrates, closing his fist tightly around hers, crushing her fingers against the rigid veiny surface of his exposed shaft. He pumps both of their hands in unison, helping her slide his foreskin up and down, barely concealing the reddened angry tip of his cock. “Good, now open that pretty little mouth of yours.”

When she complies, he swipes the silky head across her bottom lip, just like he did earlier with the fruit, but this time, he doesn’t give her a chance to recover from the sharp, salty flavor before he pushes inside–all the way to the back of her throat.

She gags pitifully, and her eyes bulge with fear as she is unable to breathe for a brief moment before he pulls out again.

“Told you it was easy. Just breathe through your nose,” he instructs. 

His palm quickly spans the back of her head as he pushes back in, and uses his other hand to tilt her chin upward, so he hits her soft palate instead of her uvula. It’s slightly more bearable, combined with the nasal breathing, but she continues to make disgusting sounds she’s only briefly heard in the few porn videos she’s intrepidly attempted to view out of sheer curiosity.

Regardless of her lack of skill, it actually is kind of easy to let him control her. She only wishes he didn’t have to be so rough each time he thrusts into the back of her mouth and holds himself there until her eyes water. After the third or fourth time, she slaps his forearms to facilitate her release and catch her breath.

“Oh, come on, I’m so close,” he all but whines. 

“I just- can we slow down?” she asks, her voice raspy. “I can’t breathe.”

“Poor baby,” he faux pouts. “Okay, do it your way.”

She quirks an eyebrow and wonders who this gruff boy standing over her is when he was so kind to her earlier. It’s like all the blood has rushed out of his brain into his dick and turned him into a different person. 

In spite of this concern, she still wants to please him and prove that she can reciprocate the pleasure he so generously bestowed upon her. So she makes her best effort, licking up the bottom side of his shaft, taking him in shallowly to swirl her tongue around his head as she sucks gently, 

“Oh damn,” he practically chuckles. “You’re a little too good at this.” 

She’s not sure if that’s a compliment, but it’s encouraging nonetheless. If she can make him come, then it will be over. She can’t help but feel stressed think of the food still sitting out on the counter, growing warm. 

As she continues the approved pattern, Ben gets aggressive, thrusting his hips again and holding her head like it’s a basketball until she fears she might choke. 

“Fuck–fuck–not yet–” he stammers, suddenly pulling out of her mouth.

She finds it utterly confusing as to why he would stop an inevitable climax. There’s no way she would have done it earlier when it was her pleasure on the line.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks, wondering if it is a skill issue after all, and his orgasm will suffer from her lack of talent.

“No, you’re doing great,” he smiles reassuringly, clambering onto the bed and forcing her to lie down as he eclipses her body with his own. 

He kisses her ferociously, cutting off any response she may have pulled together as she tries to process what is about to happen and how she might convince him otherwise. His lips and tongue are silky and liquid along the column of her neck and she’s acutely aware that there is nothing between their most intimate parts but a thin cushion of air. Even that is starting to disappear, and she can feel the tip of him graze her lower belly, making her shiver.

“Ben-” she starts, but he kisses away her voice once more, and now his bare cock is nestled atop her mound. “Um-maybe we should slow down a little-” she attempts when he lets her speak, though he’s already starting to gently grind himself against her. 

“It’s okay, I got you,” he attempts to reassure her. 

“It’s just that–”

“Shh, it’s normal to be nervous. But it’s just me, Rey,” he says gently, pausing his energetic hips to give her a brief respite from the mounting pressure. “Don’t you trust me?”

She studies him, her eyes attempting to focus on his. They are extremely close to doing it anyway, and she reminds herself that it’s Ben , that he is a good guy, and that he obviously cares about her. She was just hoping there would be a tad more build-up. But he looks so handsome and so hopeful as his eyes search her face, and the last thing she wants to do is hurt his feelings. 

“Yeah, of course I do,” she agrees. If they’re going to do this, she wants to at least get him to calm down a little. “Can you just be gentle?” she asks rather bravely. It’s not necessarily his fault that she’s been so passive thus far.

He nods immediately, and she can sense his patience wearing thin. “Yeah, of course.” He kisses her softly and then rubs his nose against hers. “Don’t worry. You’re gonna love it.”

She can only hope.

Knowing he’s won, he resumes his thrusting against her. She isn’t worried about pregnancy because she’s been on birth control for years to help manage her cramps or even STDs because she knows from practically living at their house that Ben doesn’t have a single other girl in his life. So she doesn’t mention it and assumes he believes the same about her.

His tongue is wet in her ear, and she shivers when he teases its lobe gently between his teeth, a tiny moan escaping her throat. 

“Fuck I love the sounds you make,” he groans quietly in her ear. “I wish I could make you scream, ” he punctuates the word with a growl just as the head of his cock slips lower and nudges at her drenched folds.

He reaches down to force it further in, swiping himself through the mess. She gasps sharply, wondering if screaming might save her from this and if it would be worth everything she would lose as a result.

Even if Ben is being a bit much, she doesn’t want to lose him at all, and she wills herself to be brave. This is happening, and she thinks can make peace with it. 

“You ready?” he asks, and she lies with an affirmative nod. 

After a few clumsy prods, he’s notched in her tight opening and starting to push in. Despite how wet she is, it’s not an easy feat, and he’s forced to pull out and push back in tiny increments, forcing her legs further apart with the width of his body. 

He buries his face in her neck as soon as he is deep enough to enter her further without the aid of his hand, and she grips his shoulders for leverage, digs her heels into his lower back, opening herself up, making room for him, taking all that she can manage, even if he seems frustrated at the slow pace of progress. 

“You’re really fucking small, huh?” He’s panting with the effort, clearly needing more than her meager body can supply. She doesn’t know if it’s a complaint or a compliment, and the way she feels about herself is far too fragile in his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” she laughs nervously, earning a gentle grin. At least it doesn’t hurt that much.

“No, it’s good,” he replies with a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

The compliment is enough to swing the pendulum in her anxiety-riddled brain towards a tiny shot of dopamine, and she can feel her body relax, even if only a little. He gains more ground, and when she nervously peers down, she can see he’s only about halfway buried inside of her. It may not be possible for all of him to fit, she fears. He may be disappointed. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he informs her matter of factly, his face a little too emotionless for comfort. Maybe he’s just as nervous as she is, and it feels so good he is forgetting he is supposed to be gentle. 

But as he pushes in deeper, faster, pulling out and slamming back in until her breath catches in her throat and her voice is no longer operational, she realizes he has forgotten nothing. His eyes are dark pools, and his lips curl into a sneer. She almost doesn’t recognize him. 

In addition to the increasingly louder wet slapping sounds, she can start to hear herself whimper, but it’s hard to control her vocal output with how he’s crushing her lungs with his body as he grinds himself in deeper. 

“Shh. Don’t make a fuckin’ sound you wanna wake up the whole house?” He clamps his hand over her mouth and continues his relentless pounding. She closes her eyes and concentrates on the pleasure of fullness, the way the nerve endings inside of her light up in waves. 

It’s better than she thought it would be, at least. 

She can get used to this, she thinks.

She can get used to anything. 

Just when she’s nearly reached a zen-like state of acceptance, she feels Ben slip out abruptly. His fingers dig in a little too hard to the soft flesh of her hips as he flips her over on her belly.

“What are you–”

Too startled to guess where he wants her to go, she lets him move her into position. His hand is firm on her abdomen as he hikes her hips skyward and gives a rough slap to her ass. He pulls her cheeks apart, spits roughly on her exposed slit, and lets them bounce back into place. Her head is still on the mattress, and she clings nervously to the bedspread on either side of it. 

“How ‘bout we play the quiet game?” he insists, pushing himself back in. She can feel now where she’s been chafed from his roughness, a slight sting around the edges as he presses in deeper. The pain is short-lived, thankfully, her body supplying the necessary aid to ease his movements. 

She flexes and pivots her hips in an attempt to bear the intensity of his thrusts and yelps into the mattress when he hits too deep. He mistakes it for pleasure, curling over her and slowly pressing her down, crushing her into the bed until she’s all but flattened beneath him. 

She’s tighter and more resistant like this and pauses to spread her apart before doubling down on his efforts to smother her completely with his body and his cock. His breath is in her ear, his tongue is washing over her shoulder. 

“You’re so good for me, Rey. So good. Just for me,” he coos, and the praise does little to buffer the surprise she feels. 

This is not how she pictured her first time, like getting carried away in white water rapids, missing every passing tree branch or rock to cling to until there is no choice but to let yourself be swept away by the current. 

She wonders briefly if this is the price of too much kindness. If he feels entitled to all of this for simply being nice to her. Too nice, she realizes now. She might have seen it coming if she wasn’t so excited to be treated so well. 

He slides a hand beneath her to sloppily press circles into her clit. It feels good, even if everything else is confusing and too much. He slows the pumping of his hips to an excruciatingly exquisite pace, concentrating most of his attention on pleasuring her. He presses his nose to her hair and nibbles on her earlobe. Lets out a little moan in her ear that shoots right to her clit. 

“Oh, Rey,” he says, his voice reedy. “Yeah, that’s it. Come on my cock like a good little slut.”

This time, her shock melts into a feeling that is sickening yet devastatingly delicious, in the way she clenches down on him, the way his fingers wring molten liquid pleasure out of her core. She’s gushing around him, and can feel how she soaks the comforter beneath them, how drool escapes the corner of her lips and creates a twin pool beneath her face.

He groans, low and guttural, hoisting himself up to fuck her in rapid, loudly slapping thrusts until he empties inside of her. 

She thinks that this must finally be “after.” Maybe the cheeses and yogurts sitting on the kitchen counter are still salvageable. Perhaps it’s only been fifteen minutes or so. At the same time, it feels like an entire lifetime has passed.  

Ben presses his plush lips in a wet line down the column of her spine before slipping out and pulling her against his body as he settles on his side. His arms wrap around her, trapping her, and if not for the post-orgasmic haze, she might be more poised to escape him.

He kisses her shoulder softly. “Fuck, I knew you’d be amazing.”

Rey suddenly wonders if she really knows anything about Ben--or anyone else for that matter. 

She is also tempted to ask herself how she got here, only to quickly realize she is no wiser than Hansel and Gretel following a trail of treats to their doom. She doesn’t really know how she feels about it yet and decides to deal with her fear about the food before she lets herself process anything else.

It’s something small and quickly manageable. Morally unambiguous. Easy. 

“I have to pee,” she says dumbly, knowing it’s a valid enough excuse that won’t raise any suspicion as to why, as most girls supposedly would, she isn’t relishing a post-coital cuddle session. 

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees readily, releasing her. “It's fine if you wanna go. You should probably get back to your room anyway.”

She’s surprised further by his graciousness. Or perhaps he just wants her out of his hair now that he’s gotten what he’s wanted. She hasn’t decided yet if that would be a good thing. 

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired," she replies, giving him her best attempt at a smile.

Rey slowly sits up and feels a gradual gush of Ben’s cum leak out. She hopes her imminent shower won’t wake anyone up. He hands her her shirt and stands to put his basketball shorts back on. He stretches so casually, and the sight of his long, lean muscular body is almost disarming, but her strange mix of feelings about him is too much for her to deal with right now. She pulls on the shirt and her pants, and when she stands awkwardly, wondering what to say, he simply holds her face in both hands and kisses her. Like it's normal for him to do that now. 

“See you in the morning,” he grins when he pulls away. “And tomorrow night and the one after that,” he winks. 

Rey is heartened that he doesn’t seem perturbed by her leaving him so soon, despite the wave of dread slowly crashing over her. It's disappointing that she can't feel more excited about what they just did. It wasn't entirely horrible, but something about it just isn't sitting right with her, nor is the prospect of another week of it. 

“See you,” she echoes and moves to the door without looking back.

When Ben’s door is closed quietly behind her, and she’s in the kitchen, she feels like she can fully breathe again. She darts over to the small pile of provisions and scoops them up into her arms, opening the fridge to dump them wholesale into one of the larger drawers. 

It doesn’t matter if they are in the right place, only that they are safe. 

After a quick shower, as she finally crawls into bed, Rey can’t help but wonder if she is currently either one of those things. 

But suddenly, she is too tired to examine it any further, silently letting quiet tears soak the pillow instead until sleep mercifully takes over.

Chapter Text

The next day at breakfast, Ben is alarmingly chill, and Rey is anything but. She still isn’t quite sure what to make of what happened the previous night, wondering if she has any right to be upset and whether things could have gone any differently. 

The sex was not bad, of course. On paper, it was incredible. She came twice , which she knew was rare in their age bracket. It wasn’t the sex that was the problem at all, although it was a little rough for her taste. 

It was how he changed so quickly and became someone she wasn’t sure she should trust. And now that she’s watching him cheerfully fry bacon and playfully tease Rose and get cheek kisses from his mother, she cannot help but wonder if she’d only imagined the darkness in his eyes. 

It’s normal to be scared for your first time, she reasons. Maybe her expectations were a little too high. He’s just a stupid teenage boy, after all. Most of his sexual education is probably from some website with an X or hub in the address. It’s not like they’re getting much at school. 

She also should have been more vocal and more insistent on her own comfort. He isn’t a mind reader, and she has no reason to assume he doesn’t want it to be good for her, with all the effort he puts into pleasuring her. She decides then, as she watches him gently place crispy strips of bacon on a paper towel, that she just needs to talk to him about it. He at least deserves a chance to explain himself. She hopes it’s enough to alleviate the pit that is forming in her stomach and the creeping feeling rounding her shoulders as she walks through the house– like she’s being haunted or followed even when she isn’t. 

Today they’re taking Santa photos at the mall, and Rose has already forced Rey into a beautiful oversized cream sweater and a pair of light-wash jeans. If not for the feminine cuts and the black leather lug sole Chelsea boots she’s also borrowed, she would be heading steadily into Billy-Crystal-as-Harry-Burns territory. But the materials are high quality and soft, and she can’t help but stare a few seconds longer at her reflection any time she passes a mirror. 

While she waits for everyone else to put the finishing touches on breakfast after refusing any offer of hers to help, Rey busies herself with studying the plethora of handmade ornaments adorning the giant Solo Family Christmas tree. 

Ben and Rose were such cute kids, and it’s no surprise since they’re both objectively beautiful humans. There are the years of mall Santa photos immortalized in frames of papier-mâché and macaroni, Rose’s Adoption Day, awkward haircut yearbook photos, and family group shots. In almost all of them, Ben is near Rose, holding her, doting on her, or beaming at her with pride. Rose has always said what a great big brother he is. Rey wonders then if she is the only one who’s ever seen this other side of him. 

Nonetheless, at least on the surface, they’re a perfect family, and Rey is just visiting. And now she’s fucked the perfect big brother, and Rose will probably never forgive her.

Maybe that’s the dread she’s really feeling– Rose finding out. Is Ben really the villain here when she’s going behind her best friend’s back like this? Especially when they’ve extended such generous hospitality to her, going so far as to invite her to be in their Santa photo today. Now her guilt will be immortalized on some expensive ornament extorted out of Leia and Han at the photo checkout. Maybe she can feign a stomachache or something or spend too long in the bathroom. 

Before she can fully concoct an airtight Santa aversion plan, she feels strong arms brace around her waist that pull her tight against a wall of warm muscle. She gasps, her instinct to fight until she feels Ben’s lips press against the delicate, sensitive skin of her throat as his hands slip across her breasts and squeeze just for a moment. Her head swivels side to side, eyes searching to see if anyone is approaching, but her body is trapped, so there is not much she can do about it if someone does see them. 

“Hey gorgeous,” he croons in her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

She laughs nervously, giving up on squirming out of his iron grasp and away from the hands, starting to wander beneath the hem of her borrowed sweater. “Someone might see,” she protests weakly in a hushed tone. 

“Relax, Mom and Rose are rolling up cinnamon rolls, and Han is out back chopping wood. We have a few minutes, just you and me.”

Great.

Rey attempts to swivel back to face him, and to her pleasant surprise, he loosens his tight hold on her body and lets her, even if he keeps his hands locked behind her. 

“Sorry, I just don’t know how anyone is gonna react if they catch us.”

He smiles smugly and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, we’ll tell them eventually. But for now, I like that it’s just you and me. Our own little world.”

Before she can pretend to agree, he presses his mouth to hers, his tongue already probing. 

She whimpers her defeat, and he takes it as encouragement, hands sliding down to wrap around her ass and squeeze. He’s already getting hard against her hip. She feels a mixed bag of emotions–anxiety guilt--and simmering under the surface--a deepening desire she doesn’t quite understand. 

In this rushed moment, it’s probably not the best time to burst his bubble and have a serious talk. It’ll have to wait until later tonight unless they can somehow run off together at the mall without raising any suspicion. 

“Ben? Can you come to crack some of these eggs?” Rose calls from the other room, a brief reprieve from the tidal wave of groping that’s knocked her senses out of her head. “I keep getting shell pieces in them!”

“Yes, please, I can’t have crunchy eggs again!” Leia laments in response.

“I’m really good at cracking eggs. I have a cool knife trick,” he brags, placing a gentle kiss on her nose. “Come watch,” he nods towards the kitchen, slowly loosening his arms. 

Rey nods back and can already feel her lungs expanding, finally realizing that she’s barely been breathing. Ben has that effect on her. Like she’s slowly suffocating, and she doesn’t realize it until he releases her and she takes in a gulp of precious air. 

“You okay?” he asks over her shoulder as he turns toward the kitchen. 

“Yeah,” she nods, attempting a warm smile. “Just never had a big family breakfast like this.”

“He reaches for her hand and squeezes, pulling her towards him for another quick kiss. “You’re gonna love it. And everyone loves you. I’ll make sure you get the best pieces of bacon.”

“No- you don’t have to-” She starts to subtly wiggle her hand out of his grasp. 

“Shh–don’t worry about it. I can see how hard you’re thinking. Just try to enjoy all of it, okay?”

She nods, lips tight, knowing there is no sense in arguing with him. Plus, the house smells amazing, and her stomach is starting to gurgle loud enough for Ben to hear. 

“Good girl,” he smiles, and she tries to keep up with him. 

🎄🎄🎄

The Santa photos are something else. Despite her best efforts to linger in the restroom or separate herself from everyone in the biggest department store, Rose or Ben always find her and hook their elbow with hers or point her towards some interesting display. Before she can protest, they’re ushered to wait in the photo line, and she knows there is no saying no to the Solos, especially when it comes to holiday traditions.

Soon enough, Rey and Rose are perched on either side of a bench next to the beleaguered mall employee dressed as Old Saint Nick. Ben is splayed out on the floor in front of them, head resting on one hand as he gives a finger gun with the other. 

“Kiss his cheeks, girls,” Leia calls out, grinning so hard Rey wonders if it hurts to smile that much after a while or if the happy chemicals in one’s brain cancel it out. She wouldn’t know. 

Rose complies immediately, but Rey hesitates. “Um, is that okay?” she asks the man, and he just shrugs. She hopes they are the first and only people to place their lips there today, and she gives a quick peck as the camera flashes. Han and Leia join them for a shot, and Han insists that Rey sits on his lap before Ben can blink while Leia sits on Rose’s. Rey shoots Ben a quick glance as if to ask permission in a way, but he’s already working on a new pose, darting behind the throne to tower over it. 

Leia and Han belly laugh when the kids ask Santa for exorbitant gifts and for their parents to stop being so overbearing. It's hard for Rey to resist letting her guard down and laugh along with them. Han is a perfect gentleman and helps her stand as they exit the photo area. As expected, the parents spare no expense, purchasing multiple copies of every shot and plastering the final image of the five of them on a cheesy, overpriced ornament. 

“I’ll give you some of these prints to take home, Rey,” Leia offers kindly, with a twinkle in her eye as she shuffles them into a neat pile and slips them back into the envelope. “I’m so glad you joined us this year.”

Rey feels bad for feeling bad, suddenly, because even though she feels like an interloper, her presence seems to make everyone so happy. It’s odd and unfamiliar to feel like she’s adding instead of simply taking away. 

“Me too,” she replies genuinely. For a moment, she can pretend that she’s one of them. Because they make it so easy. Later, she can berate herself for taking up more space than she deserves.

“This sweater was a good choice,” Rose comments, falling into step beside Rey as they make their way down the corridor and away from the phony North Pole. She reaches up to pick a fuzzball off of Rey’s shoulder. “You look so hot. Do you think anyone from school is here?” Rose cranes her neck to peer around the nearby escalator and back over her shoulder.

“Do you mean Armie Hux?” Rey smiles, and for a moment, she’s just a peer again, just a best friend, just a mostly normal girl without a care in the world.

“Obviously,” Rose scoffs. “He’s like really bad with social media so I can’t even stalk him. He could be anywhere!”

“You should get his number when we go back to school then. Let him woo you the old-fashioned way, with words ,” Rey laughs. 

“Can you imagine?” Rose giggles. “He does have that sexy accent. Like you do when you’re tired or that time you had, like, three sips of vodka.”

Rey suddenly feels the heaviness of remembering she’s not even from here–that her real identity is slowly leaching out of her like colors fading in the sun. 

Her face must show it. “Sorry, did I say the wrong thing? I didn’t mean–” Rose starts. 

“No, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” Rey shrugs, scrambling to hide the pain on her face. 

She knows Rose deals with her own stuff when it comes to not knowing her birth parents and not always feeling as connected to her culture as she’d like to be. It’s one of the things that initially bonded them as best friends. 

It strikes Rey what a miracle it is they came to be in each other’s lives. Regardless of all that she’s lost, she’s grateful to be here now, with the Solos, being doted on and fed and included in all of their holiday magic, even if it’s overwhelming at times. It’s enough to bring her out of that heavy gray feeling, and she eagerly shakes it off. 

“I love you, you know,” Rose smiles, leaning her head on Rey’s shoulder and hooking their elbows together as they continue walking ahead of her parents and Ben. “I’m glad you stayed with us. You’re like the sister I never had.”

“You are too,” Rey croaks out to keep from crying, for all the things she gets to have with the Solos, however temporary, and all that she stands to lose if she messes all of it up. She vows to herself to sort things out with Ben, tonight, so she can hopefully enjoy what's left of their time together.

Rose perks her head up, her eyes wild and bright. “Let’s ditch those losers and go get something pierced!” 

“Uh, I don’t know about that-” Rey starts to protest, trying not to look back at the other three Solos and therefore draw their attention. Ben has actually been giving her space, which she can hardly believe, but the day is still young.

“Okay, well, you can watch me get something pierced and hold my hand then,” Rose offers.

“Deal,” Rey smiles conspiratorially, and they dart off without looking back toward ephemeral teenage freedom. 

Chapter Text

Rose ultimately decides against getting her cartilage pierced when Rey reminds her that Kaydel Connix did hers last year, and it got super infected. It also helps that Armie Hux just happens to stroll his long legs and ginger hair past the window of Claire’s before the piercer can load up the piercing gun.

They catch up to him at the food court just as the Solos finally catch up with them, and Rey decides to take one for the team so Rose can go flirt unencumbered. 

“Go, I’ll distract them,” Rey offers.

“But you’re my wingman. You have to come,” Rose pleads. “Plus, his friend is kinda cute.”

“Dopheld Mitaka?” Rey winces. “He’s with that girl Phasma in Ben’s grade.”

“Oh my god, for serious?” Rose replies, her voice reaching its highest octave. “But she’s like a foot taller than him!”

“They’re super cute together,” Rey smiles admirably. 

“I mean, good for him. The rizz must be off the charts,” Rose laughs. 

“Not as good as yours,” Rey insists. “Now go! I’ll hold them off as long as I can,” she whispers as Rose finally takes off in the redhead’s direction, where he is currently ordering a complicated smoothie on a touchscreen.

“Now, where is she going? I was gonna see if we could go to that Cheese Factory place,” Leia remarks as she watches Rose jog away and then slow down, smoothing her hair on her approach to the smoothie place.

“She was craving a smoothie?” Rey offers, knowing she is the worst liar on earth, and her lies are starting to pile up expeditiously. It’s the only plausible answer she can manifest, and she starts leading them towards the Cheesecake Factory to give Rose some privacy. “I’ll text her to meet us there.”

“Oh, fine,” Leia agrees, to Rey’s relief. “It’s always a long wait, but Han loves the appetizers, and it’s got something for everyone you know?”

“You make a good case,” Rey replies with a reluctant smile, knowing it’s exorbitant and unnecessary after the huge breakfast they had, even if it’s long past lunchtime. She’s not sure she’ll ever get used to being fed so much and wonders how much she’ll miss it when she’s staring wistfully at her austere, bare-bones cupboards at home. Best not to take it for granted—and ask for a take-home box.

Ben finally makes his way past his parents to stand at her side and nudges her with his elbow. “You’re gonna sit next to me, right?” he asks. “I can help you with the menu. It’s like forty pages long,” he adds with a smug chuckle like she doesn’t know that already. It’s not that she’s ever eaten there, but she’s stared longingly through the window plenty of times.

She doesn’t know if it should bother her that he knows how little she’s experienced of his lavish lifestyle and that it will take far too long to peruse the giant menu with far too many pages. On the other side of that coin, having him guide her and decide things for her is, in some ways, a relief. Sometimes navigating the parallel world the Solos inhabit is exhausting.

“Thanks,” she says dumbly, unable to express all of that to him, especially in front of his blissfully unaware parents. But by the softness of his eyes and his reassuring smile, she senses he knows better than anyone how she’s feeling, at least when it comes to complicated, overpriced menus. She’s already starting to feel better about their impending level-set discussion.

Just as their heavy plastic pager vibrates and lights up red to announce that their table is ready, Rose bounds up and joins them just as she finally unglues her eyes from her phone screen and tucks it in her pocket. “Sweet,” she remarks with a pleased smile as the host starts guiding them to their table with an armful of spiral-bound tomes. “Thanks for doing all the waiting, suckers.”

“Where’s your smoothie, kid?” Han asks curiously, and Rey imagines because he probably wanted to try it. He’ll often say he doesn’t want something or tends not to get things for himself but gladly hoovers up leftovers and cleans up after everyone like some sort of charming, gregarious garbage disposal. Rey wonders if all dads are like that or if the Solo kids are just lucky. 

“Oh, I changed my mind,” Rose remarks swiftly without breaking a sweat before quickly grabbing Rey’s forearm.

“I got his number!” she then whispers shrilly in Rey’s ear. “He already texted me back, new phone who dis like a giant dork!”

“Told you,” Rey smiles with genuine affection. Ben keeps a respectable distance, but she notices how he maneuvers himself perfectly to land at her side once they are at the table. Rey soon finds herself scrunched between Ben and her best friend in the half-circle booth, with Han and Leia on either end. 

“So we’re splitting everything, right?” Leia insists. “I just want to try five thousand things.”

“I don’t care, I’ll eat it,” Han offers, to no one’s surprise.

“Yeah, same,” Rey echoes, happy to find someone to emulate who reflects her preferences so she doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb that everyone feels the need to comfort and focus on. Well, mostly only Ben, but he fusses over her with the energy of several people, at least.

Speaking of which, Ben reaches over and squeezes her knee between his thumb and forefinger, and she jumps a little. “Here, start on this page. Don’t look at the prices, just get whatever you want, okay? And don’t just go with the flow.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Rey shrugs, suddenly feeling pressured, even if his intentions are good, even if she wants his help. “I’m not even that hungry.”

Ben’s hand is still resting on her thigh, and his eyes narrow as he tightens his grasp again, his fingers digging in a little. “I’ll order for you then. I think know what you like,” he winks. 

She nods, knowing that this is as good as it can be between them until she can explain otherwise. She knows that Ben delights in doing things for her, and there is nothing inherently wrong with that–it’s a good thing, right? Chivalrous, even. 

She sucks in a deep gulp of air as if to assert herself. To resist the crushing weight of his presence. “Maybe you do,” she smiles teasingly, and that seems to please him well enough to release his grip and focus on reading the menu. 

They ultimately take home more food than they eat, and Rey wonders how they manage to keep their fridge so tidy and not have it overflow with constant abundance. They are all pretty active and probably need the calories, but it is striking to her how much food flows in and out of the house, both for themselves and for others. When they return home, Leia puts the three teens on cookie assembly duty, and they pack colorful tins full of the many creations they baked the day prior. 

Instead of driving, they fill an old red wooden wagon from the garage with the bow-wrapped tins and walk door to door, singing silly Christmas carols and delivering the cookies to neighbors. Rey soon overcomes her self-consciousness in favor of embracing the moment and admiring the Solo family’s generosity. Now she can really see where Ben gets it from, even if his application of the principle can sometimes be even more overbearing than that of his parents.

Still full from the early dinner and cheeks hurting from smiling so much, after brushing her teeth with her best friend, Rey says goodnight to Rose and tumbles into her borrowed bed in the guest room for the evening. She feels exhausted in the best way and briefly wonders if her conversation with Ben can just wait until tomorrow. It is only night two, and he seemed happy enough with their interactions during the day that he’d pretty much left her alone once they returned home, minus some lingering glances and sweet smiles. 

The creeping feeling has started to wear away, replaced by a light and cozy feeling, like a wisp of cotton candy on the tongue or a warm sip of cocoa. Maybe everything isn’t as serious as it seemed the night prior. Everything might just work itself out. 

Rey switches off the light and arranges her pillows just so until she starts to sink down and drift off, her mind starting to go blank. 

“Hey,” she hears a rushed whisper that makes her muscles tense up. “You asleep?”

Rey debates feigning unconsciousness, but can’t help but slowly lift her lids to find Ben crouched next to her bed, both hands on the mattress. “Almost,” she whispers back, licking her lips. 

“You didn’t say goodnight to me,” he scolds her gently and rises up to lift her sheet, insinuating himself into the queen-sized bed with her. He brings a chill with him that’s quickly replaced by his ample body heat.

“I didn’t know where you were, and it was late-” she starts, wiggling to put some room between them, but then wonders why she’s defending herself. It’s not like she can casually track him down without alerting anyone else in the house.

“It’s cool. I thought maybe you’d come to my room, but I’m here now, so–” 

He looks at her expectantly, and she wonders if she is supposed to know what comes after the so and if he expects her to act on that assumption.

But as usual, Ben is more than willing to lead and cradles her face in his hand to kiss her. She uses the time to organize her thoughts, willing herself to enjoy the slow sensuality of the way he kisses her–the softness of his full lips, the brilliance of his tongue, which is capable of wringing so much pleasure out of her. 

She feels good in this gentle space, enjoying him, letting go of a little bit of her fear. 

As he pulls away, she takes her chance. 

“I think we should talk,” she says in a low whisper. “About what happened last night.”

“Talk?” He looks at her like she’s sprouted an additional head. “Is everything alright?”

She sees what she thinks might be a genuine glimmer of panic, and she wonders if he may actually know something is off and worthy of being discussed. It’s heartening, at least, that she’s not alone in feeling this way.

“Yeah, just. About what we did. I just think we should slow it down, maybe? It was all just so fast I didn’t really have time to tell you what I liked or-”

“You didn’t like it?” he interrupts, and she feels immediate regret about her choice of phrase.

“No, no. I did,” she assuages him, though she feels her conviction slipping. He needs to know it’s not as simple as like and dislike– that his presence is like quicksand, and if she doesn’t find some way to advocate for herself, she’ll be swallowed up completely and disappear. 

“Then what’s the problem?” he says all too fast, and she’s already searching for a branch or a rock to keep herself from going under. 

“It’s not a problem, Ben,” she starts, and she can feel the irritation in her voice isn’t what she wants him to hear, as his body stiffens against her. She wants to say it as nicely as possible, so he’ll understand, so he won’t just run out and make it ten times harder for her to make herself heard. “I like being with you, but you were a little rough, and you move so fast, and I think I just need more time to process in the moment and tell you what feels good and what doesn't.”

“I’m just confused, is all,” he starts, and she can hear how his voice shakes. “Did you really come, or were you faking it?”

“No, I did-I didn’t-” Rey can already tell Ben’s not hearing her over the sound of his own self-doubt. There has to be a better way for her to make her needs known without putting him down; she just can’t find the exact right words. “I came twice, and that was really good. Just the actual sex part got to be more than I think I was ready for. But I promise I’ll be more honest in the moment. I won’t wait til after like I’m doing now, okay? You have nothing else to worry about. It was good.”

He bites his lip and focuses on something behind her, and she waits for an eternity to find out whether she’s completely alienated him or made him feel like shit. After a few beats, he nods. 

“So you still wanna be with me, even though the sex was just okay?”

She stares at him for a moment, on the cusp of almost wanting to cry because she is not sure she has an answer to that exact question right now, and not just because of the unfair phrasing.

“Ben-”

“I’m fucking with you,” he cuts her off, his face breaking into a wide grin. “I’ll slow down, okay?”

She wonders how palpable her relief must look to Ben as she feels her face relax, her brow smooth out, and her lips retract from their obvious pout. She hopes it conveys more than her clumsy words were capable of. 

“Okay,” she nods, satisfied for the moment, as she makes a mental note to journal or write down bullets in the future so she can organize her thoughts better. Who knew communicating with a guy would be this hard? It all looks so easy in movies, but she’s never had any real-life examples to follow. Her foster parents are cold and taciturn with her and, as far as she knows, with each other. She wonders if they ever were actually in love and hoped for a family, but all they got was her. 

“Good,” he murmurs, his lips already brushing her cheek as his hand wraps around her hip to pull her closer. 

She feels her desire rise quickly, flooding in to fill the spaces where the doubts and anxieties have drained away.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a heated whisper, sliding his other arm under her neck, facilitating the full alignment of their bodies. 

“Mmhmm,” she whimpers, hungry for it, rolling her hips against him as he hitches her thigh over his. 

“Can I do this?” he asks, pulling her up to straddle him and sliding his hands down the back of her pajamas and panties in one fell swoop.

She moans as her clothed sex slots perfectly over his hard length and grinds against him involuntarily. 

“Is this slow enough?” he asks teasingly, moving her body with his hands firmly gripping her ass as she scrabbles for leverage on his chest, the mattress, anywhere to steady herself. 

“It’s good,” she nods, biting her lip. 

“I’ve thought about fucking you all goddamn day,” he growls, craning his neck to kiss her slow and deep, his tongue probing and exploring.

Between the undulations of their joined centers, his sinful lips, and his firm hands, she’s already a puddle. His asking for permission has emboldened her and made her feel safe and cared for, just like everything else he does for her. She doesn’t respond with words but with her body, starting to ride him now, urging him on until his kisses grow increasingly aggressive.

“Do you like fucking me?” he whispers in between wet, sloppy kisses to her throat and jaw. “You like my cock?”

“Uh-huh,” she whines quietly because, in spite of how much it scares her, she still wants more. 

His hands slide up her back and around the front of her body as he lifts her upwards. “Make yourself come,” he instructs, casually cupping and caressing her breasts beneath her loose t-shirt. 

“I-how?” she asks, wondering if he expects her to take his dick out and do something with it that she has no experience in. 

“However you want. Ride me. Touch yourself. I just wanna watch,” he insists.

“Um, okay.” She considers the best and most efficient way to get the desired performance over with, remembering he’ll be hurt if he knows she faked it. 

“Don’t be shy,” he grins. “You’re so beautiful.” He traces a single finger along her jaw and across her bottom lip. 

It’s hard to say no to him when he’s looking up at her with such reverence like he sees something in her she’s not sure she’ll ever see in herself. Someone braver, sexier, more capable than she feels. 

Maybe she wants him to slow down because she’s not sure she can keep up with him in any area of life, let alone this one. Maybe she just needs to give herself permission–see herself through his eyes. 

“It felt good when we were doing this,” she remarks with a flick of her hips. He’s still rock-solid beneath her, and when she tilts forward and rocks her pelvis, she already feels the tension build back up. 

“Keep going,” he nods, his eyes riveted to hers, tongue darting out to wet his lips. His hands are resting on her hips now, and she plants hers on his solid, muscular chest for leverage.

“Like this?” she asks, even though this is for her. 

He nods and pulls at the hem of her shirt. “Take this off.”

She’s in it now, in this little cocoon of a world he’s established for them, and she doesn’t hesitate, flinging it to the bed beside them—this bed where she is a guest, in this life, she is merely visiting.

For a moment, she lets herself fantasize that this is her bed, her home, her family, her life. None of it is real or permanent, except maybe Ben. Beneath her, he is solid and warm and alive, and he’s watching her–seeing her. 

“Yeah, you like that,” he marvels, breath hitching as she moves faster. He palms her breasts, thumbs sliding across her nipples, and she closes her eyes, letting the pleasure take over. “Don’t stop.”

She wonders if he’s going to come like this too, and if that is enough for her. It could be, of course, but she is starting to allow herself to want more. The only thing holding her back is the other side of him that broke through last night, the one that didn’t seem to hear or see her. That chose to ignore her. 

“I like it,” she says, taking up the space that he’s given her. “I like it a lot.”

“Can I fuck you?” he asks then, and her eyes open to take him in, but she’s so close. She anchors herself in the heat of his chest through his t-shirt, his rigid length against her sex.

“Just take it slow,” she offers humbly, hoping he meant what he said earlier. 

“I can do that,” he agrees, his voice strained. “I can do that right now. I wanna do it now nice and slow,” he insists, sitting up and cradling her in his arms to keep her from falling backward. 

He kisses her before she can offer an alternative timeline, and his hands are already fumbling with the drawstring on her shorts. 

“Let me,” she offers, craving some control, but her efforts are futile because she accidentally double-knotted them. 

His hands are already exploring lower, teasing at the gusset of her shorts with his thick fingers. “Want you so badly,” he mumbles against her lips, finger tucking into the thin strip of fabric covering her modesty before wrenching it to the side.

“Oh!” she cries softly into his mouth. “I–uh–”

“Shh, be quiet,” he replies gruffly, reminding her that there are other people in the house. “Just let me-”

He fishes himself out of his pajama pants swiftly and lifts her upwards, tight against his chest, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other occupied in aligning himself to her entrance. 

It’s then she realizes she hasn’t come yet, and she’s nervous and–

“Ah!” she winces, muffling her voice into the crook of his shoulder. He’s pressing in slowly, but gravity is not in her favor, dragging her down sooner than she’d like. The breach is on the sharp side, but he’s successful, and she resigns herself to the inevitable. 

“That’s it,” he croons in her ear, arms barred around her back as he eases her back up and then down. “That’s a good girl. Fuck, you’re so fucking wet. See, I told you I know what you like.”

It bothers her that he’s actually right, but she’s grateful for her body, how it accommodates him, how it rescues her by being so willing, even if her mind isn’t necessarily in sync. She also feels foolish, however, thinking he’d actually go slow like he promised. Maybe his perception of time is different from hers, and perhaps they ought to align their perspectives better, preferably when sex is not on the table.

At least it is comparatively slower than the previous evening. She feels a tiny pinch of pride that she’s done her best to express herself, even as she wonders if she could have held her ground a bit more or at least insisted on an orgasm before he got his way. 

“Mmm,” he groans pleasurably as he kisses her back. She lets him control the movement of her body up and down as she focuses on her own enjoyment. 

He pulls away his lips with a wet smack. “Your shorts are kind of hurting me,” he complains, shifting her in his lap. 

And she wonders if it’s that simple, just to say aloud what you’re thinking or what you want and then do something about it. He makes it look so easy. 

He picks her up effortlessly, bringing them both to standing, letting himself slip out as her legs drop from his waist. With another kiss, he leans back, pulls off his own shirt, and slides his shorts and boxers to the floor before stepping out of them. It’s only then that she catches sight of the still-open bedroom door.

“Oh my god!” she starts to rush over to it, but his hand grasps hers and jerks her back to him like a yo-yo.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone’s asleep. C’mere.” 

“Ben,” she starts, but he folds her into his arms despite her protest, cradling her from behind, hands roaming her bare chest, down to her stomach, and to the offending drawstring at her waist. 

“I need to get these off of you. Don’t worry about the stupid door.”

But it’s all she’s worried about, eyes wide, straining to see in the dark if someone is staring at them in horror from the hall. But it’s empty, and it appears to be just them and her poor decision-making.

“I just would feel better if it was closed,” she whispers as he successfully loosens the knot and tugs her shorts down her hips until they swish down to her ankles. 

“It’s fine,” he reassures her, flattening his palm against her belly and tapping each of her feet with his to signal her to spread her legs further apart. This time, with her back to him, she’s spared the sinister look on his face– the darkness lurking just beneath the surface of his veneer of kindness.

“What if we get caught?” she asks but is cut off by the squeak of her own voice as he presses into her again, this time more quickly, arms caged around her, hands braced on her shoulders, nose buried in her hair. 

He’s taller than her, so she has to rise on her tiptoes to accommodate the angle at which he thrusts into her. Her lips are pressed tight to hold back her whimpers. 

“Fuck you’re even tighter like this,” he praises, and the slapping of their skin competes with their voices for the thing that will get them fucking caught. 

“Please close the door,” she whispers ineffectually. “Ben. Please.”

He ignores her and instead grips her chin and forces her to look directly at the open space. 

“Look. I told you it’s fine. There’s no one there. It’s just you and me.”

He’s getting off on the risk, she realizes, and deep down, a sick part of her is too. What a relief if everyone just knew, and she didn’t have to carry the guilt around. Of course, Rose would likely hate her, and his parents would probably be deeply disappointed, but at least she’d be free of the burden. It would be over as quickly as it began.

It’s ironic that she has to be quiet when she’s finally found her voice and when she has so much to express. She focuses on keeping the sounds of her pleasure silent, though all she wants to do is moan and wail out what she feels. He’s filling every crevice inside of her that yearns for sensation, for completeness. 

It’s too much, too fast, and too intense, but it’s not entirely unwanted. It’s a terrible joy. This is what she realizes as his hands remember what she really needs and wring a wretched, searing climax out of her. He holds himself deep inside, lets her shudder, shake, and writhe in his arms as he clamps a hand over her mouth for her to whine her pleasure into. 

With a strained groan of his own that he, too, has to tamp down, he unleashes inside of her. It takes seemingly forever as he pumps every last ounce of himself into her limp, exhausted body. 

He slips out and helps her to the bed, draping a sheet over her as he walks to the door to finally shut it. She wonders if he plans to stay longer or if the novelty of getting found out has finally worn off. 

He sits on the bed and strokes her back. “See?” he says jovially. “I told you it was fine.”

She smiles weakly, wondering if he puts on a tough act for her or if he genuinely fears no repercussions for anything he does because he’s so privileged. It’s another thing about his life she wishes she could put in a take-home box and bring with her when she leaves. 

“I’m gonna get some water. You want anything else?” he asks. 

She considers how she’s still satisfied from dinner and how typically, her answer to these questions is always no because she never wants to be a burden to anyone. People are just being polite, she reasons. They don’t actually want to get her something. 

“Water would be great,” she responds with something akin to confidence, even if she waits for the look of annoyance or regret for having offered.

“Cool,” he says without skipping a beat as he slips his shorts back on. “Be back in a minute.”

When he pads out to the hallway beyond, leaving the door open and his shirt on the floor, she finds herself letting go of her earlier fear. 

She takes in the room around her, and despite her ephemeral presence in this place, it doesn’t bother her as much as it usually does. She closes her eyes and lets herself just be present in her body, feeling his come leaking out, the delicate soreness in its wake. After snatching a few tissues from the nightstand to clean herself up, she puts her clothes back on and snuggles back under the covers.

Tonight was not perfect, but she can sense her own progress. However, the needling feeling that she is betraying the rest of his family still sits uncomfortably in her belly, and she knows she needs to deal with it sooner rather than later.

Maybe tomorrow, she can spend the night in Rose’s room and let things with Ben cool off a bit. He at least listened to her tonight, as much as he was capable of. Part of her is starting to believe that he does know what she really likes, even if she’s not ready to fully accept it yet–that darkness that might be lurking within her as well.

Ben returns a short while later with a glass of water and holds it to her lips to take a sip. 

“I’m gonna go back to my room,” he informs her with a soft smile. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Goodnight,” she replies, letting him tuck her in. “Can you just close the door behind you?”

It’s a bit of a test, she realizes, but she has faith. 

“Sure thing,” he nods, leaning down to kiss her gently on the forehead. “Get some sleep.”

Rey’s eyes are already closed by the time she hears the soft click of the door, and her lips curl into a smile. 

The soft creak as it swings back open is not enough to rouse her again as she quickly drifts to sleep.

Chapter Text

Rey awakes the next morning, determined to focus more on Rose and less on Ben’s powerful gravitational pull. There is still over a week of family togetherness to get through, not to mention Christmas, and she isn’t sure if she can live with herself if they keep going on this way. 

But then again, she isn’t sure she’s ready to fess up, either. Ben is intense enough on his own–if everyone else knows, will he feel even more emboldened, eclipsing everyone and everything else in her life? She wonders if anyone can sense what’s been going on between them. If they have, Rey’s been too overwhelmed by dealing with him to notice. 

Today, however, will be different. 

Always an earlier riser than most, Rey beats everyone else to the shower, taking extra care to lock the door behind her lest Ben get even bolder and try to join her. The hot water is bliss, but she has to scrub extra gently between her legs after two nights of vigorous activity. 

She shivers a little as her fingers glide over the sensitive skin, the dual memories of pleasure and discomfort warring in her brain. It would be a lie to say she didn’t enjoy it or even regretted it, only that she feels like a tiny piece of her has broken off and absorbed into Ben, and she knows he can never–will never return it. Just like she’ll always carry a piece of him with her. It is so strange, that by sharing this experience, they’ll remember each other forever. He’ll never fade in her memory, his features blurring with time. She can’t imagine him ever not being crisp and stark in her mind, all sharp lines, pale skin, and dark hair, indelibly etched.

With her hair still damp and clad in a generic-branded red sweatshirt and light wash jeans ripped the old-fashioned way instead of styled that way on purpose, Rey pads down the stairs on socked feet to find the kitchen already bustling with activity. Perhaps she spent too long sitting on the bed in her towel, thinking about Ben. This morning, waffles and fruit in every color of the rainbow are piled on the counter next to a giant wooden cutting board.

“Merry Christmas Eve!” Leia calls to her in a sing-song voice as she peels a perfectly browned waffle off the iron with a pair of tongs and sets it onto a poinsettia-print plate. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Rey smiles sheepishly, unable to believe that Christmas is tomorrow. There are no advent calendars filled with tiny chocolates counting down the days in her house like there are here. Plus, with everything going on with Ben, it’s snuck right up on her. She hopes the handmade metal snowflake ornaments she soldered together in shop class for Leia and Han and the beaded macrame friendship bracelets she wove for Rose are enough because there’s no time for anything else.

But she hasn’t gotten anything for Ben, and realizing that Christmas is tomorrow, it’s crashing down on her that she has nothing at all to give him. She might have picked out something small for him at the mall yesterday if she had any money to spare. She hopes the oversight doesn’t hurt him. On the bright side, since it’s a special night, at least she’ll have what she hopes is a legitimate excuse to stay with Rose instead.

Ben descends the stairs first, followed shortly by Rose just as Rey’s been conscripted into strawberry-slicing duty. 

“Get in here, kids. Rey’s putting you both to shame with her knife skills.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Rose declares, grabbing a pineapple by its green tuft. “I just watched a bunch of YouTube videos the other day to learn the right way to cut one of these bad boys.”

“Let me make the waffles, Ma,” Ben insists, grabbing a dishtowel and throwing it over his shoulder as he shoos her away. “Go sit.”

“Oh Benji,” Leia practically melts, laying a soft hand on his cheek, which has just the slightest bit of morning stubble, making him look older and more mature despite all other evidence to the contrary. “Alright then. I need to finish the laundry anyway,” she adds, peeling off her apron and handing it to Ben. “You kids could stand to use a towel more than once, you know,” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears down the hall.

Rey averts her eyes as Ben takes over the waffle iron with practiced ease, realizing she’s just narrowly avoided cutting the tip of her finger instead of the top of a strawberry.  

“So Rose, I was thinking I’d stay in your room tonight,” Rey starts, hoping it’s quiet enough that Ben doesn’t hear. She doesn’t want to give him any leeway to convince her otherwise. Today is going to be different, after all. “I miss you. And it’s Christmas.”

“Yeah?” Rose replies, her voice pleased. “I miss you too. Nice guestroom, though, right?”

Rey blushes and does everything in her power not to look in Ben’s direction. “Yeah. It’s super nice. I appreciate it. I’m not used to having all that space.”

Just then, Ben sets a waffle on the plate, hitting it loudly enough with the tongs to make Rey jump. 

He unplugs the iron and grabs the plate to bring it to the kitchen table. “Waffles are ready,” he declares to the girls, his gaze lingering on Rey before he reaches into a nearby drawer to grab silverware.

“Sweet,” Rose nods approvingly before holding up a perfect pineapple ring. “Look at that,” she proclaims proudly. 

“Very impressive,” Rey smiles at Rose as Ben slams the plate on the table. It takes all her strength not to flinch.

🎄🎄🎄

After breakfast, Rey volunteers to do all the dishes and shoos every Solo away at once. Luckily, Leia puts the other teens to work in the dining room making cutlery bundles for the big Christmas dinner with their extended family the following evening. Tonight will just be an intimate night with lasagna and board games, and Leia will frantically wrap all the last-minute things she swore she wouldn’t get.

It’s calming, being wrist-deep in suds, methodically scrubbing plates, and loading the dishrack. Her progress is tangible, unlike every other area of her life. It’s clear from his passive-aggressive noise-making that he overheard her talking to Rose, and she realizes it was probably a little manipulative on her part not to wait until he was out of earshot. But she’s honestly afraid to talk to him directly because it seems to behalfway effective. He hears what he wants to hear and assumes the rest. 

When she’s finally done and hangs the dishtowel on a little gold hook next to the sink, she turns around to find Ben standing directly behind her.

“Oh my god, you scared me!” she shrieks, a hand over her chest as she tries to stop her soul from escaping her body.

“Sorry, I have a quiet tread,” he remarks without a hint of a joke. “So you’re staying with Rose tonight?” 

He looks hurt and confused and like he’s been stewing about it. He sat next to her while they ate but didn’t serve her food constantly like he usually does and didn’t join in the rousing conversation about how there are too many Ring cameras, Alexas and Roombas in their neighborhood, and Han is worried that they’ll all join forces and bring on the robot apocalypse.  

“Yeah, it’s Christmas Eve,” Rey replies nervously, hoping that will be sufficient to magically convince him. 

“So?” he asks. “And you don’t wanna spend it with me?”

Rey averts her eyes, focusing on a vintage champagne ad framed on the opposite wall as she curls a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Um, I just thought-”

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks then, and part of her wants to say yes. That all of it’s wrong,  but she can’t give him a specific example or an answer that will satisfy him, and she feels mean for even thinking it. “I thought–”

It’s an opening she should probably take. Tell him it’s too much; she needs space or a tiny break. To reassure herself she’s not a terrible friend who’s taking advantage of a generous family. To reassure herself she’s not crazy for wanting off the wild ride he’s taking on her that is far too fast and intense for her comfort.

“No–” she interrupts him. “It’s not you. I just wanna spend more time with Rose, that’s all.”

He shrugs. “I guess I understand.”

Do you, though? 

She reaches for his hand and he takes it, remembering how easy it was for Ben to express his discomfort when he needed to. 

“Last night was great, but I was terrified with the door being open,” she says honestly. “I thought we’d get caught, and everyone would find out and be upset with me–”

He looks at her, his brow twisting, and she knows she doesn’t want to hurt him, but she can’t keep giving in so easily either.

She squeezes his hand and meets his eyes. “But I also weirdly liked it. And I don’t know what to do with that information. Plus, I really do miss Rose, but I also think it’s good for us to take a night off and just let things breathe a little.”

He huffs a soft laugh and nods, squeezing her hand back. “I feel like my blood is on fire every second I’m not with you,” he says in return. “I don’t know what to do with that information either.”

It sounds sincere, and his eyes are soft, his pupils seemingly a normal size. He looks younger, even with the stubble, and sadder than she’s ever seen him. She wonders how easily she might crush him if she wanted to. 

“It’s just one night. There are plenty more.” His shoulders drop a bit, and she can’t help but start rambling now as if his vulnerability is contagious. “And I think it would be good for me to get a sense of how she might feel about us being together. I’m scared of her finding out and getting mad at me, and I really don’t want to lose her as a friend. And your parents-”

“I don’t worry about any of that,” he interrupts her, his voice determined. “I couldn’t care less what anyone else thinks or feels about us. And that’s saying a lot for me,” he adds.

“What?” she replies, curious how he can continue to shock her. “You don’t think we should at least be sensitive about it. Or wait until we know it’s serious before we-”

“Rey, I’ve spent my whole life trying to be a good son, a good brother. I’d do anything for my family. And I don’t mind, other than the fact that I have no idea whether it matters if I stop–if they’ll even still love me if I don’t do all these nice things for them. But you– there’s something about you. You’re so-”

Needy? Desperate? Pathetic? A perfect charity object for an overachiever with a service kink?

Rey’s eyes well up because she can see it so clearly now, Ben’s role in the house–the perfect son, the perfect brother. She feels slightly sorry that he has to work so hard to feel loved. But he sure knows how to take what he wants from her . 

“You just appreciate it. Everyone else makes me feel like they’d be disappointed if I stopped, so I don’t have a choice. But you don’t expect it all. It just makes me wanna give you everything.”

It’s then that she can hear Leia and Rose’s muffled voices in the adjacent hall. 

“It’s so nice you invited Rey to stay with us, honey. I can tell she needed this.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad she gets to have a real Christmas for once. Her parents are total Scrooges.”

“You’re such a good friend, Rosie. Rey’s so lucky to have you.”

Their voices fade as they enter the living room instead, and Rey feels how tense and rigid her body has become only as it starts to relax again. Nothing about their words was wrong, per se, but she suddenly feels every ounce of the charity case that she is. She can’t help but wonder why being a target for all this goodwill feels so unwelcome all of a sudden when moments ago she felt guilty for taking it at all. It’s like getting rubbed in the same place for so long that it starts to feel numb instead of pleasurable. 

Maybe it’s how they congratulated themselves for taking her in like shes’s some kind of neglected animal. She can’t help but wonder how much of their friendship is based on Rose just feeling bad for her. And how much of her relationship with Ben is the same? And will Rose still feel charitable when she finds out she’s been fucking her brother? Will Leia still be glad they invited Rey to stay?  

Ben gives her a look that tells her everything she needs to know: that he agrees with their self-congratulatory assessment. That they’re all so nice for letting her cosplay as a Solo for the holidays. That she won the jackpot, and they’re all such good people and deserve all the self-pats on the back. Ben thinks he deserves to use her however she wants, and she should thank him for the privilege.

It all feels like too much, and once again, she feels the air growing thin, the suffocating weight of Ben’s presence. All of the Solos, really. No wonder it was such a relief to let Ben tell her what to do, what to eat, and what to think. But now all she wants is to run as far away as possible. 

Rey wrenches her hand out of his. “Um. I changed my mind. I think I just need to be alone tonight,” she stammers as she starts to back away.

“Wait, what?” he asks. “What do you mean?”

She shakes her head back and forth and tries to keep her bottom lip from trembling and the tears from falling. Tomorrow is Christmas, but maybe she should just leave tonight. She’s not sure she can sit there in the morning and have everyone’s eyes on her, thinking of how well they did to give poor little Rey a big special day until she bursts into flames of shame like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

Before Ben can say something to make her doubt her reality, to which she is now finally acutely attuned, she turns on her heel and runs towards the stairs. 

She can’t hear him follow her over her own steadily pounding heart. She's too shocked to say a word when he catches the bedroom door in his hand before she can slam it behind her.

Chapter Text

“Go away, Ben,” she says more fiercely than she feels inside, her voice catching in her throat.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he insists, shutting the door behind him with a soft click as he remains firmly in the doorway, blocking any chance of escape. 

The sound reminds her that the bedroom door was open, just a crack, when she woke up this morning. He left it open on purpose. She’s sure of it. Because he thinks he can just do whatever the hell he wants and get away with it.

She ignores him in her righteous anger, picking up her small, tattered duffle bag and shoving her dirty clothes back into it. Everything else in the bathroom is just a spare she’s borrowed anyway. If he doesn’t let her leave through the door, maybe she can climb out the window–

“Rey, please,” he says, and the slight tremble in his voice makes her stop in her tracks and acknowledge him.

“Ben, please don’t,” she replies, her voice steadying. “I told you I just need a night alone, okay?” 

“Then why are you packing your stuff?” he asks, his voice cracking. “You’re not seriously going home, are you?”

She pauses, holding the open bag in one hand and a pair of pajama pants she’s just lifted from the foot of her bed–her borrowed bed–in the other. 

“I can’t be here anymore. I’m sorry.”

She has no reassuring words for him, even if she can feel the disappointment emanating from him in waves. 

But she also reminds herself she’s not doing anything wrong. She’s not a prisoner here, and they might all be relieved that they don’t have to keep feeding her and showing her the true magic of Christmas. Ben might chill out a little and realize he can live without trying to fuck her every five seconds, and then they might be able to actually move at a normal human pace with… whatever this is. That is if it’s meant to last, or her friendship with Rose even will once she finds out. 

“This is ridiculous. You’re really gonna leave us on Christmas Eve after all we’ve done for you?”

All this time, she’s felt so guilty for taking advantage of the Solos when none of it was even her idea. She didn’t ask for anything–not from Rose, not from their parents, and especially not from Ben. He’s the one who started this by inviting her, and he’s been fucking relentless ever since. 

She realizes then that this is all transactional for him. He expects so much in return because of everything he’s willing to do for her, never considering that she can’t possibly keep up. She’s pouring from an empty cup as it is. She can never repay them. 

She doesn’t even have a stupid Christmas gift for him. 

It’s just one more thing keeping her from embracing the possibility of being with Ben. She can’t help but wonder if she’s even enough for him. If he’ll consume her as quickly as a flame does paper. At the rate they’re currently going, he’ll likely find her wanting sooner rather than later, and perhaps she’s only trying to make him pace himself. Not to mention, he’s opened her eyes to things about herself that she’s not sure she’s ready to deal with–not ready to look so deeply in the mirror quite yet.

He’s so giving, but he expects far, far too much from her.

“No- you don’t get to do that!” she interrupts him, shaking her head and darting towards the next item of hers she can find to shove in her bag. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“Rey, come on, don’t be like this.” He steps forward, blocking her path, and grabs her by the elbow. She tries to tear it away, but he holds fast.  

“Why can’t you leave me alone for two fucking seconds?” Rey screams louder than she should, shaking off his iron grip. His eyes go wide, and it’s suddenly too quiet, not just in the room but in the whole house, and she wonders with horror if anyone else heard her. 

“I don’t understand,” he shakes his head. “I thought you were having a good time with me–with my family. We’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

Rey is angry, she realizes, not just sad or depressed at how her life has turned out so far. She’s furious that she has to feel this way at all. That her parents left her with strangers that could give two shits about her, and the only people who do are the Solos, and she’ll never be grateful enough. 

Because no matter how much they do for her, it will never feel purely good. It will never feel permanent. It will never be real.

She’s gesticulating wildly and knows she can’t hold it in any longer. “Ben. There is nice and good, and then there is smothering . I don’t need all this food, all this attention, all of this–

“I-” he starts, but she won’t let him gaslight her again into thinking she’s out of her mind for wanting to slow things down and take a breath.

She’s on a tear now. “You never fucking stop .” She gestures wildly with her hands. “Shoving food at me. Shoving your dick in my face. I can’t fucking breathe , Ben.” She clutches her chest as if to help herself draw in air that doesn’t seem to exist. “I can’t breathe around you because you’re constantly on top of me.” Her voice catches. Maybe she’s being too harsh, but she tried to be nice before, and it didn’t work. “And I only asked for one night alone with my friend who I’m supposed to be here with. Not you. I just wish you’d stop pressuring me all the goddamn time!”

He puts his hands on his hip and scoffs. He seems more hurt than irritated. “That’s rich. I’m pressuring you? He steps close enough to kiss her now, and she feels her rage transmute into something molten. The hair on her arms rises as the heat radiating off his body warms her skin. “Have you ever considered how fucking passive you can be? You don’t eat enough. You don’t ask for what you want, not at the dinner table and certainly not in bed. I’ve just been giving you what I know you want–what you need. Was I wrong?” 

She shakes her head. Now they’re getting somewhere. 

“That’s the thing, Ben. I’ve been trying to tell you what I want, and you ignore me! You get carried away because you’re doing what you want. What I want is to have five seconds to think about anything ,” she says with her eyes closed so she doesn’t have to feel judged by him for five seconds. 

He’s quiet now, but when she opens her eyes, he’s transfixed on her, and she can see the gears turning in his mind. At least he’s letting her talk.

“You don’t even care if Rose finds out about us, even though it could ruin my friendship with her! And you heard what they said about me downstairs. Now, I don’t even know if any of you actually care about me or if you just feel bad for me because I’m poor .” 

He shakes his head, lips pressed together. She waits for him to admit to it.

“Oh, that’s not-” he starts, and she feels her intense vulnerability like the burning of the sun through a lens. She is a helpless insect. A thin piece of parchment. Soon, she’ll be nothing but ash. Her urge to flee increases.

“It’s fine, Ben. It’s been fun pretending that any of this could ever be mine. But now I see how silly that was. I know what I am and where I belong.” She pulls away to finish shoving the last of her clothes in her overstuffed duffle and zips it up clumsily, leaving a gap on one side. She brushes past him toward the door, and he lets her, but his voice stops her in her tracks as her hand lands on the knob.

“I don’t feel bad for you at all,” he says firmly. “I like you, and I like being with you. And I knew you would never ask to stay with us because you’re too polite to do it yourself, so I made it happen. The question is, are you gonna let yourself have this? Can you accept that people genuinely care about you and just wanna do nice things for you?”

“It’s not that—”

But it is that. Rey feels that familiar pang of guilt. That she’s just a user and that she’s just as bad for making everyone feel so sorry for her. She shouldn’t be so obvious about how deprived she is, maybe, or stare so longingly at all the things the Solos have and she doesn’t. She wonders why she’s like this, why she both yearns for their generosity and pity and yet despises it once she gets it. Are they really such criminals for sharing their Christmas with her? Of course not. She just wishes they wouldn’t be goddamn smug about it–that the cost wasn’t so high. 

He inhales deeply and sighs like he has any right to be as frustrated as she is right now. “Then what is it, Rey? You wanted all of this, and you got it. And you’re just gonna run away? Why? Because it makes us happy to see you happy? Why can’t you just relax and let yourself enjoy it?”

She spins around, and he’s already right in front of her. His hand sways and brushes against hers, and it’s electric. For all the ways she’s dreamed of escaping him, she suddenly wants him more than ever. It’s maddening. It’s why she needs to get away from him because she can’t think straight when he’s this close. It’s why she keeps giving in even when her brain screams at her to pump the brakes. It’s a constant battle between what she thinks she’s not ready for and what her primal instincts and body choose to do instead. But the reality is he doesn’t belong to her. None of this does. 

“I don’t have anything , Ben. It’s just temporary. I’m just like some pet you rescued,” she sniffs. “And when New Year’s is over, you’ll send me right back to the pound.” Her voice quivers, and tears run down her face now. “How can I enjoy it when all I feel is ashamed for needing so much in the first place? When it’s just going to go away?” 

He reaches up and thumbs her tears away. “You have me. I’m right here. And that doesn’t change when you go back home. It’s not your fault you’re in this situation, and no one thinks of you that way, I promise.”

She knows this as a fact, but she trembles at hearing it. It’s also ironic coming from him because he seems to think her willingness to play along with his generosity meant he could take whatever he wanted from her in return. She’s embarrassed yet again. For being so needy, for being so transparent. For being more gullible than Gretel when presented with a trail of treats only to be eaten alive. It’s scary to speak it aloud, but she has to if she has any hope of holding onto what she has here.

“If that’s true, then why don’t you listen to me?” she chokes out. “You tell me I should ask for what I want, but then you just do whatever you want instead. That was my first time, and you were so intense. Then the whole thing with the door–it’s like you become a whole different person. When I tried to tell you how it made me feel, you made it about you, and I had to spend all my energy making you feel better. You think you’re a nice guy, Ben, but that other side of you isn’t very nice!”

He looks to the side as if considering her point, and the guilt on his face is apparent. “I know I can be a lot. I’m sorry I can’t help myself, and maybe I get a little carried away. But I’ve had a crush on you since you and Rose became friends. I’ve never fucking felt this way about anyone. But I never got the idea that you weren’t actually into it. Now I feel like a fucking asshole.”

Her eyes dart up to his, her expression perplexed. Sure, he’d been more than friendly both here and at school, but she hadn’t pieced together that he had a crush all this time or that his desire for her was so intense. She supposed, however, that his ravenous need to have sex with her was proof of that by now. It takes all her strength not to feel bad for him. She has to stand her ground this time.

“And I know you think you need more time, that this is going too fast or it’s too much. But I also know that I’m not totally off base here. I’ve heard plenty of your little chats with my sister because you two are fucking loud, and these walls are so fucking thin. I know all about how badly you want a boyfriend, how horny you are all the time, how you wish you could be Rose’s sister and live with us. It’s not rocket science for me to put all of that together.” He tips up her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze. “Besides, you said it yourself downstairs. You fucking liked it.”

She stares up at him with wide eyes, her lips parting, the deep reverberations of his voice freezing her where she stands and striking the match of a flame in her core. Her humiliation is acute, realizing that the totality of her slumber party confessions, when summarized thusly, is quite damning. It’s as if he’s studied her and taken detailed notes, has run the necessary experiments, and now he has her all figured out. And his hypothesis is very much correct. As much as she tries to fight him, she wants what he’s offering—much more than she’d like to admit.

He grabs her hands, and she resists the urge to pull away from him–from the truth. “You think if Rose or my parents found out about us, they’d be disappointed in you, or whatever the hell it is that you’re so afraid of. But you never kicked me out or turned me away once. And you sure didn’t come that hard because you were having a bad time . You let it happen and then get upset that you enjoyed it too much, just like everything else you do with us. I can see how guilty you feel anytime we do something nice for you, and it breaks my heart. But it’s okay to enjoy it. You deserve all of it. I don’t know how else to get through your thick head.”

She shrugs. He’s far from innocent as far as his methods and subsequent expectations go. But she knows with certainty that Ben is also not the monster she wants to think of him as. She has been conveniently projecting the worst parts of herself onto him, pretending they are his alone so she can avoid looking at the things inside herself that scare her the most.

Rey always thought Ben was hot, but he was off-limits as her best friend’s brother. She jumped at it as soon as she got the chance, no matter who it might hurt or how it might make her look. She liked him doting on her, feeding her all the time, teaching her how to navigate this unfamiliar world. She liked the risk of fucking him with the door open, the way it charged every cell in her body with how wrong it was. Ben is proving himself to be a conduit for her deepest desires. Just like an extra spoonful of food, he fed her what she most feared asking for.  

Despite how annoying it is that he’s actually (mostly) right, she feels her anger start to dissipate. But it doesn’t mean she can’t take a little space to process it, either. Now that he’s made his fucking point , she’s not sure she can handle more Solo smugness tonight by giving him the satisfaction of admitting all of this to him. 

“Fine,” she stubbornly agrees and leaves it at that. “But I told you no tonight, didn’t I? I said I needed some space, and you’re still not giving it to me.”

His grip on her wrists tightens, giving her an all-too-charming, lopsided smirk. “Because I need to make sure you don’t just give up on what we have because you’re a little scared or guilty for no good reason. Plus I really wanna spend more time with you. I’ll give you all the space you want and try to calm down a little bit, even if it kills me. Just please stay with us.”

No, she is not a helpless victim nor a prisoner here. She was more forceful with him than she has ever been and might finally be ready to accept her role in everything happening between them. Ben is not some evil Gingerbread House owner luring her into his cauldron after all. She realizes it’s just a story she tells herself because giving away her power is more manageable than grappling with the tremendous responsibility of it. She’s here in this situation with Ben because deep down. she wants to be. But now she vows to take control of what happens between them from now on. 

She feels like she can fully breathe again, and her desire to flee has dissipated. “If we have sex again, and I say I don’t like something, are you going to listen to me?” she asks plainly. 

“Are you asking because you wanna have sex with me again?” he grins, and something inside her starts to defrost.

“Answer the question, Ben,” she scolds, her feelings towards him warming again.

He looks up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words.“If I wanna push you a little, I’ll make it more–uh–participatory. Does that work?”

She can see on his face that he’s really trying and that he means it. 

“Like to do something you think I want but I’m not actually sure about? I’d appreciate being more involved in those decisions, yes. And an apology would be nice for not listening to me before.”

He pulls her closer until their bodies are aligned. “I’m sorry,” he says readily. “I was a selfish, horny little shit, and I should have been more patient. I’m so goddamn proud of you for asking for what you want, you know that? It’s actually making me hard.”

“Fuck you,” she laughs. “This is serious.”

He’s not purely a villain, nor is he some fantasy dream man who will do everything perfectly.  It’s up to her to improve things for herself going forward instead of simply waiting for him to do it for her, even though that is still an option. If she can’t breathe, she’ll find the air she needs. For all of his flaws, it at least seems like he is willing to meet her halfway. The solid thing she was reaching for when she felt herself getting swept away was inside of her all along. She starts to relax in his arms.

“I’m serious too,” he responds, minus the smirk. “And if you really wanna be apart tonight, I can try and deal. I just go crazy at the thought of not having you after thinking about you all fucking day and not being able to touch you or be inside you.”

“We’re touching now,” she offers, realizing she agrees. It’s frightening how much she wants and needs him after only having him for forty-eight hours. That it might be more than just lust. That he’s touched a part of her that no one else ever has. 

“You say that as if it’s ever gonna be enough,” he breathes, his lips close to hers, hands searching her back and sliding down over her ass with an already practiced ease. “Like I’m not gonna sneak into your little trundle bed and finger you tonight.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she balks, her body going slightly rigid in his arms once more. A hot lance of need scores through her as she imagines that scenario through to the inevitable conclusion of her coming by his hand as Rose sleeps innocently two feet above them.

“I can give you some time to get used to the idea. See? I’m growing,” he laughs.

“I think we both are,” she agrees, relaxing again. She believes it.

Rey hears car doors slamming beyond the bedroom window and startles. She glances over at the digital clock on the nightstand, and it’s already after lunchtime. Leia and Rose must have gone down the road to the self-service farmstand to get fresh produce for the lasagna they’re about to spend the rest of the day making. She’ll have to lie and say she had a headache unless Rose and Leia already heard her and Ben arguing before they left.

She might have no choice but to brace herself and tell Rose the truth. And as if he’s psychic, Ben gives her a reassuring look.

“You can be the one to tell her,” he offers. “It’s your decision.”

She wonders if he really means it or if he’ll still find a way to pressure her past her comfort level. But maybe she needs to be pushed sometimes. It’s empowering to realize that Ben’s actions have only been a reaction to what he feels are her unspoken needs. He sensed so much about her before she was ever ready to admit it to herself. He may just be a little off on the execution. She’ll either have to beat him to the punch and do it her way or deal with the consequences of his particular brand of intervention. 

“Yeah, thanks.” She nods. “I should probably go downstairs and help them.” 

“I’ll be down when this is no longer an issue,” he grins sheepishly, pointing to where his jeans have tented as she slips out of his arms.

“Serves you right,” she smiles back over her shoulder as she walks to the door, dropping her duffel bag on the floor in front of the closet this time. 

He lets her go, and the creeping feeling that usually stays in his wake is gone. Ben isn’t chasing her, nor is the feeling she can’t shake him--because she doesn’t want to.

Realizing that it’s her choice what happens next, Rey's guilt and shame start to melt away. She feels lighter all of a sudden. Now that he’s given her just an inch of breathing room, she finds she no longer needs it as badly. If she can assert herself with Ben, and he listens to and respects her, then it might be the purest good she’s ever experienced.  

It will be real. 

Indelibly etched, forever. 

Something that no one can ever take away from her.

She’s barely made it halfway down the stairs before she turns on her heel and runs back up to where Ben has just made it across the landing towards the bathroom. He regards her with a curious yet nervous expression, almost like he’s expecting her to have changed her mind about staying after all.

“My room. Now,” she commands with a finger firmly pointed at the guest room door.  

A slow smile spreads across his face.