Chapter Text
Ben is not an easy person to deal with when he's sick.
Poe would stare blankly at him, eyebrows barely raised in a challenge, and remind him that he's not an easy person to deal with, period, but being sick makes him clingy and needy and all-around impossible to stand, and it's with a wince that he re-reads the last text he has sent Rey, just a second ago, between a sneeze and the other.
I will miss you, the screen shows him, and a part of him wants to crawl into a hole and disappear from civilization for the rest of his life, while the rest of him, dizzy and hazed by the flu, is just thinking about Rey, her warm eyes and the way she leans into him sometimes, the way her giggle resounds in his apartment, almost a living thing enveloping him.
He'd like to have her here, he thinks as he burrows into his pillow and hides his face into the obscene amount of blankets he has surrounded himself with. She'd wrap him in blankets and take care of him, and he'd let her do it, for once, without even thinking of uttering a protest. She'd reassure him and cards her fingers through his hair, and Ben would purr, happy and dazed and warm.
He has to remind himself that Rey is not actually here, and, anyway he shouldn't be thinking about her this way. His face feels on fire, and he knows it's not because of the fever.
Buttercup stares at him with a knowing look, her eyes both warm and skeptical as if to tell him she knows exactly what he's thinking about and she's judging him for it. He locks his phone and places it on his nightstand, aware that is probably late and Rey won't reply to his cringe-worthy text. He doesn't know if he's relieved or not, but he feels awfully exposed as Buttercup observes his movements, as if she could somehow read into his mind and understand what is happening inside him.
Knowing her, she probably can. She doesn't look very impressed with him.
"Shut up," he tells her, lying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling, hoping to forget the thought of Rey for a while. He sniffles, pathetically, and shivers as he snuggles into the fort of blankets he has build for himself. Buttercup stares down at him with her big, warm eyes, and then nuzzles closer, her snout against his face, her gaze fixed on him. "It's not like she can drop everything and come here to take care of me. And she doesn't feel the same, anyway," he adds, bitterly.
He's too dazed by the cold and the medicine to realize he's talking to his dog. Buttercup tilts her head as if to better hear him, and lets out a little whine at his words, as she steps a little bit closer. She keeps on staring at him, her small paws pressed against his side as she nuzzles her little head against his face, giving him big, wet kisses. He thinks he's getting better at understanding her, but it's still with a sense of surprise that he realizes she's worried for him.
Oh.
It's almost automatic to raise his hand and bring it to her little head, fingers finding so easily their way beneath her ear to scratch her and pet her the way she likes, as he has done so many times before. She closes her eyes for a second, the contented expression he knows so well on her face, but then he sneezes, and her eyes shoot open, her paws digging into his arm as she leans in and makes sure he's okay. The thought makes his heart clench, and maybe it's the flu, or maybe it's the fact that Buttercup has melted something frozen deep inside him, but he feels almost on the verge of tears.
She must sense it, because she leans in to lick his face again.
He pats the mattress, trying to catch her attention. "It's okay, sweetie, don't worry," he tells her, reassuring her as best as he can. She seems restless and distressed, as if she could pick up his emotions, and he reaches out to pet her again, her head so small into his palm, trying to soothe her. "I'm okay, it's just a flu. Let's get to sleep, alright? I'll feel better".
This seems to calm her somehow. Buttercup curls against him, her warmth spreading through his bones as he turns the light off and goes back to stare at his ceiling, his hand placed on the poodle's head, as if to reassure her. He closes his eyes, wondering what Rey is dreaming about right now. The thought of not seeing her makes him feel uneasy, as if something important had just been ripped away from him, and he must admit it's getting ever more difficult to pretend he doesn't feel anything for her.
He wonders for a minute if she feels something for him. It must be the flu or the medicine (or both) talking, but he can picture her radiant smile, and the way she had laced their fingers together, her thumb brushing against the back of his hand with infinite tenderness, and he tells himself that maybe this is really happening.
After a while, he hears the rhythmic sound of Buttercup's breathing, steady and soft, and he tries to focus only on that, and not on Rey or on the fact that he can't seem to shake the cold off, despite how many blankets he has wrapped himself in. He curls his body around the small poodle, and closes his eyes, sniffling pitifully.
He manages to fall asleep, somehow, and when he wakes up from a nightmare he's glad for the comforting presence of Buttercup next to him.
*
When somebody knocks at his door, next afternoon, he's both surprised and terrified, and stares down at Buttercup, currently resting on his bed, as if she could somehow save him from this.
When it becomes obvious that, no matter how smart and brilliant his dog is, she can't answer the door for him, not now and probably not ever, he sighs, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders as if it were a cape, and drags himself out of bed, bracing himself for whatever is coming. He opens the door with a sigh and a sneeze.
What a sight I must be, he thinks.
He wasn't sure of what he was expecting. Maybe Poe, despite having spent the whole day assuring him he was fine, he had soup and medicine and Buttercup and he could manage a flu all by himself, no need for him to come take care of him like a baby. Poe, with his big grin and the comfort of his presence, and the way he awkwardly tries to be there for him despite how much Ben has always pushed him away this past year.
Instead, it's Rey.
It takes him a minute to blink her in and process the fact that she's there, in front of him, at his door, hazel eyes and golden freckles. She's wrapped in a big coat and a scarf that looks very soft, and she's carrying a grocery bag. There's a big, warm smile on her face, so warm his insides are doing funny things even now.
Her smile turns hesitant as she catches his gaze, as if she expected him to close the door on her. "Hey!"
He opens his mouth, then closes it. Then, because he's still light-headed from the combination of sickness and medicine, he says the dumbest thing he can come up with, which is definitely not new, especially when he's in Rey's presence. "Are you real?" he asks her, frowning. "Like, are you really here?"
Rey frowns too, but she looks vaguely amused by his questions. "What do you mean?" she replies, her eyebrows arched up, a smile on her lips. "Is this an existential quandary? Is anybody really here?"
Despite it all, he can't help the little smile that makes its way onto his face. "No, I mean," he tries to say, nervously rubbing his neck. "I kept thinking about you, I was worried I had dreamed you".
He realizes what he's said only after the words leave his mouth, and then he brings a hand over his lips, as if he could take everything back like this. He wants to disappear and he can feel his face turn crimson, his red ears peeking between his disheveled mess of his hair.
Jesus Christ, Ben, why don't you stop talking?
Rey doesn't seem bothered by his words, and her smile only gets softer, so gentle it takes him by surprise. There's a faint pink on her cheeks, but he's not sure if it's from his words or from the cold December air. "I'm real," she reassures him, shifting on her feet and balancing the grocery bag into her arms. "I know you said you're coming down with the flu, but I realized you'd be alone here and I thought I could buy you soup and make you tea and tuck you in bed. If that's okay, I mean. Is it okay?" she asks, suddenly hesitant, as if he could tell her no.
He doesn't even need the time to think about it. "Yes," he says, eagerly, opening up the door and letting her step inside, following her small frame with his gaze as if he couldn't really believe his luck. His heart hammers in his chest as Rey smiles at him, her eyes warm and bright.
Buttercup must have heard the voice of her favorite human (because no matter how much she loves him, Ben is convinced she loves Rey a little bit more, and honestly, he's crushing so hard on Rey that he isn't even offended by it. Same, he wants to tell his dog) because she chooses this moment to come running from the bedroom, sneak past his legs and jump at Rey, wagging her tail and pawing at her jeans, trying her best to catch her attention. Rey is still carrying her grocery bag, so she can't pet her, but she smiles at the poodle in front of her nevertheless, with a pure, sincere happiness that always takes him by surprise.
The way her lips curve upwards, the warmth of all of it, makes his heart clench.
"I missed you too, sweetie, so much," she tells Buttercup, gently. The poodle doesn't stop jumping around her, wagging her little tail and looking as if she had just had the best treat of her life. Ben's heart goes soft in his chest, and he feels the familiar sting of tears again. Fucking flu. "Now, let's take care of your dad, since he clearly can't take care of himself," she adds, teasingly, glancing his way. Her words are accompanied by a smirk, but there's no trace of mockery in the back of her eyes, and her voice is so full of fondness it makes him breathless for a moment.
Rey shoulders past him, stepping into his apartment followed by a very happy mess of a poodle, and walks around with a familiarity that has him surprised, as if he hadn't realized how many days she had spent here at his place. She reaches his kitchen, as Buttercup happily follows her, and places the bag on his table, taking out the items one by one.
Soup, tea, a chocolate bar. There's some tablet of medications, too. His heart clenches at the sight, as he observes her. She moves around his apartment as if she belonged there, and in a way, she does - he has been living here for years, but this whole place has never looked as alive as it is when she's around.
His head still feels dizzy, so he sits down at the table as he watches her divest of her coat and scarf, placing them on a chair, and fill his cupboards with the things she has brought, and something in his heart definitely gives up. He knows he had lost the fight even before he could brace himself for it, and he has to admit he's completely in love with her, with this strange, kind girl that teases him and stares at him with stars in her eyes.
A shiver runs down his spine, and he doesn't know if it's from the flu or from the realization, but in the end he burrows into his blanket, wrapping it tightly around himself and curling on his chair. Buttercup stops following Rey around and turns to him, her big eyes fixed on his face as she steps closer and rests her little head against his legs, as if to comfort him.
"Hey," Rey must notice his movements, because she stops what she's doing and turns into his direction. "How are you feeling?"
Ben tries to smile. "Never been better," he tells her, flashing her a grin. Then, he sneezes, and shivers and Buttercup stares at him with her knowing gaze. "If better means feeling like you have just been run over by a truck, I guess".
Rey lets out a small laughter, and shakes her head, as she comes to stand before him. It's been a while, but he still isn't used to her closeness, and when her hand comes to brush against his forehead, pushing a few strands of hair back, and then pressing against his skin, he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine. The touch of her palm is cool and refreshing, and he sighs at the contact, closing his eyes for a second.
"Ben, you're burning up," she announces, and then scrunches her nose in that adorable way he's so fond of. "Have you eaten anything in the last twenty four hours?"
The blank look he gives her must be enough of an answer, because she sighs and her hands fly to his blanket, wrapping it even more tightly around his shoulders. Her fingers linger a little bit as her palms come to rest against his chest, and he's so taken aback by her that he doesn't know what to say.
Her eyes are worried, when he meets her gaze. "You look really pale," she whispers, her voice so low, almost as if she was scared of startling him.
He must look like shit, he thinks, red nose and bags under his eyes and the face of someone who has just run into a wall of solid concrete, but she's kind enough not to mention it. "Thank you for not saying I look like hell," he tells her, going for a grin.
"Shut up," she replies, flashing him a small smile. Her fingers slowly trail up to his face again, and it takes all his willpower to prevent himself from nuzzling into her palm, as she tucks a few strands of hair beneath his ear, fingertips brushing against the shell of his ear. He whimpers at the contact, and she glances his way, but doesn't stop touching him. He's glad. "Why haven't you called me? Or someone else, for the matter? Don't you have someone who can take care of you? Your editor?"
His brain still feels mushy, so it takes him a moment to process all her questions, and then he frowns, confused. "What? Hux?" he replies, cringing as he thinks about Hux here, taking care of him. He'd rather jump from the window and plummet to his death. "He's a good editor, but I wouldn't trust him with it. I mean, his idea of taking care of me would probably be covering me in gasoline and set fire to my sick body".
Rey lets out her silvery giggle, as her fingers keep on threading through his hair, gently. The fact that she's here just because she thought he'd be alone and she wanted to take care of him makes his heart twist in his ribcage, and it's the reason he opens his mouth and tells her the truth.
"I have a friend. I mean, a best friend, you know. We've been knowing each other since childhood ... he was the one who taught me how to ride a bike, and we got drunk together at my sixteenth birthday. See this scar?" he points out to the indentation on his forehead, a fading white line almost invisible next to his hairline. Rey's fingers brush against it, and he smiles at the memory. "I was so hammered I walked right into the wall of our old treehouse. Apparently I bumped into a nail, or something like that".
Her fingers are still brushing against the old scar, when she replies. "He sounds great," she says, with a smile. Her voice is low and gentle and he wants to close his eyes and let her lull him to sleep as she talks to him, reassuring him and murmuring sweet nothings right to his ear.
It takes him a lot to prevent his eyes from fluttering shut.
Ben nods, pressing his lips together. "He is. The thing is ... he has been taking care of me a lot, in the past year," he tells her, quietly, staring down at his hands, following the patterns of the few moles scattered on his skin. "After my mother died last year, I've been kind of a mess. He was the one who put me back together and convinced me to start seeing a therapist. He was the one who recommended me your shelter, the one who pushed me to adopt Buttercup. I've made him worry a lot, you know? So I thought I could deal with a fever myself ".
He doesn't dare to raise his eyes, but he hears - almost feels, like a living thing, humming around him - the sharp intake of her breath. She stays in silence for a few seconds, then her other hand reaches for his arm and her fingers curve against his muscles, almost gripping him.
"Ben, you are allowed to ask for help," she murmurs, so softly. Her voice is still so full of tenderness, of fondness, of something he wants to believe in. "You don't have to do this on your own. Why didn't you call me?"
It takes him a lot to finally raise his eyes, but when he does, he's met with a warm, gentle smile, and hazel eyes full of affection. Full of something he doesn't dare to speak of, too afraid of imagining it.
"I don't know," he says, but she gives him a knowing look, and he lets out a breathy exhale that could almost pass for a tired laugh. Her fingers dig into his arm, but he doesn't mind - it feels like it's the only thing tethering him to the universe, like he's floating on a cloud and Rey is the thread of light guiding him home. He shivers. "You're here for Buttercup, not for me. You shouldn't have to deal with my problems".
And, surprisingly, Rey laughs. It's a quiet little sound, so brief, so gentle. "Sweetheart," she says. He flinches, blinking her in, as if to make sure he's not imagining this, imagining her. "I love Buttercup, but she's not the reason I am here. She's not been the reason for a long time".
It's too much - the flu and the medicine and Rey and everything. A sob escapes his lips, and he finds himself swaying, as if the whole room had started to rotate, but Rey is there, and she catches him, her wiry arms stronger than he expected. There's a metaphor in it, he thinks, but he's too tired to think about it, and he lets her hold him, and sinks into her, resting his head upon her shoulder. Even as he sits, he's taller than her, but it feels nice to stand like this, his head buried into the crook of her neck, burning lips pressed against her skin.
"Hey," she murmurs, quietly, her fingers carding through his hair in slow, reassuring movements. "It's okay, I've got you, I've got you, Ben," she keeps on saying, her lips so close to his ear, her voice so gentle it undoes him completely.
He tells her he's sorry, he tells her once, then twice, then maybe a third time too. He's not actually sure - the only thing he remembers is the warmth of her embrace, and the way her words seem to soothe something deep within him, something he had tried to bury a long time ago.
At some point, he feels something rasping against his legs, and he pulls away from Rey only to meet Buttercup's gaze, her warm eyes full of concern as she paws at his sweatpants. It reminds him of when he wakes in the middle of the night, and the poodle is pressed right against him, ready to comfort him. Rey lets out a little laugh, her arms still wrapped tightly around him.
"You're scaring Buttercup," she states. "Don't worry, sweetie, your dad is okay, he's just a little bit sick," she adds, as he turns to face her again. There's a small, sweet smile on her lips and he'd die to kiss her, but he doesn't. Her hand slowly travels from his neck to his face, cupping his jaw. "Why don't you go sitting on the couch and reassure her while I make you a cup of tea? Don't give me that look, you've got to eat something, sweetheart".
It's not about the tea. He's surprised, and he stares at her with what he thinks is awe. He is so taken aback by her, he doesn't even feel embarrassed about it. "You want ..." he says, words failing him as she tilts her head and stares at him with the same smile he knows so well, both gentle and teasing. "You want to stay? Even if I'm like this?"
Rey lets out another small laughter. "Yes," she replies, immediately, without hesitation. Her eyebrows shoot up. "Do you want me to stay?"
As if he could want something else. He nods, quickly, not sure how to express that thought into words right now, but she doesn't seem to mind, because she smiles again, brushing her thumb against his cheekbone. "Good," she says.
Then, before he can say anything, her hands come to grip his shoulders for purchase as she presses a kiss right to the corner of his mouth. "Go sit on the couch, I'll be with you in a moment".
He's too dumbfounded to protest, and he does as instructed, Buttercup trailing behind him with the same look of concern in her eyes. She's quick to jump in his lap as soon as he settles on the couch, wrapping the blanket around the both of them, and he rubs her belly, trying to reassure her and make her understand he's okay. Her warm eyes never leave him, but she relaxes under his touch the same way he relaxes hearing Rey shuffling in the kitchen, putting on his kettle and grabbing a mug from his cupboard.
She does it with a familiarity he finds breathtaking, as if she had spent years in his apartment, and not just few, random days. He'd like her to be around everyday, he thinks.
Buttercup curls in his lap, resting her head upon his knee as he pets her, and by the time Rey pads through his living room with a mug of hot tea in her hand and a plate of cookies in the other, she has fallen asleep, snoring lightly as he scratches her beneath her ears, as if deeply exhausted by her worries.
"Here," Rey says, softly, handing him the mug and the cookies, and then sitting beside him on the couch, careful not to wake Buttercup up. "She has grown quite fond of you, hasn't she?"
He eyes the lapful of sleeping dog he has found himself with, the way her little body rises and falls with her breath, and a smile automatically comes up to his face. "Strangely, she has," he replies, as he brings the cup of tea to his lips.
The beverage is hot, but its heat is pleasant, and he sighs, contented. He feels - tired, but also at peace for the moment, as if the whole year had prepared him for this. For this feeling of peace settling over him, after having spent so many months clawing at his own heart, hoping for the grief to pass. He had never talked about it so willingly - of course, he has told the truth to Poe and his therapist, but he finds out he wants to share it with Rey, tell her everything, let her understand him.
In time, he thinks. She's not going anywhere.
Rey shuffles closer, her body pressed against his, so warm and soft. Hesitantly, she raises her hand and meets his gaze, as if asking for permission, and Ben is quick to nod, inching even closer. She starts carding her fingers through his hair, pushing back a few strands as he relaxes under her touch. It's new, but it's not unsettling - it feels like the natural development of their friendship, as if it was always meant to be like this, since that first day so many Sundays ago.
"Your hair is so soft," she informs him, and he laughs, quietly. He shivers a little bit, but this time he knows it's less from the flu, and more because of the way her fingers thread through his strands. "I've always wanted to do this".
He turns into her direction. "What? Touch my hair?" he asks her, frowning in confusion. Rey's face turns a lovely shade of pink under his gaze, but she doesn't look away, and if she's embarrassed, she doesn't show it. He has never met someone like her before, and his heart thunders against the bones of his ribcage as her smile turns softer.
"Yes," she admits, so easily. She curls a strand around her finger, and sighs, her lashes trembling slightly as her eyes flutter shut for a second. "I've been wondering how soft it was since that first day at the shelter," she adds, opening again her eyes and looking at him with a mixture of fondness and devotion.
It's so clear and obvious and real that he can't do anything but swallow.
He wants to tell her a lot of things - about how scared he was, of not being able to love Buttercup right because he had never been able to love someone right, of not being the owner she deserved, of being faulty and undeserving of such a devotion as he had been undeserving of his parents' love, but something in the way she stares at him makes him understand that, somehow, she knows.
He isn't scared of not being able to love her right anymore.
He doesn't tell her, but he knows she can read the thought on his face, and he doesn't mind it at all. "Want to watch a movie?" he asks her, instead, a tentative smile on his lips. "I promised I'd let you choose, after all".
He's rewarded by her silvery laugh, and a kiss pressed right against his forehead.
That's how they end up curled against each other, Rey's head on his shoulder, her hand in his, fingers intertwined, her breath ghosting over his neck. Their bodies fit so nicely together, and Ben can't help the quietness washing over him as he keeps her close, warmth in the pit of his stomach, the blanket enveloping both of them as she nestles her body right against his. She has put on a romantic comedy, and at some point during the movie he starts to drift to sleep, his head resting on top of hers.
"M' sorry," he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut, and the last thing he hears before a blissfully dreamless sleep takes him is Rey's quiet giggle.
*
Next morning, he's woken up by the feeling of something licking his face and something warm enveloping him.
His eyes slowly flutter open, lashes trembling slightly as he gradually comes to, and the first thing he notices is Buttercup, perched up on his arm, her paws digging into his muscles, as she intently licks his face, her snout pressed against his cheekbone.
He groans, flailing an arm as if to make her stop. The poodle pays no mind to his movements and keeps on licking his face with her usual determination. "Buttercup, nooo," he murmurs, groggily. His mind still feels hazed, but he thinks he's getting better because at least he knows what is real and what is not, and he tries to roll on his side to avoid Buttercup's insistent kisses, but when he does, he realizes he's not lying on his bed at all.
He's lying on Rey.
She's already looking at him, her eyes so bright in the quiet morning light. "Morning," she tells him, as he slowly moves his head to face her. She's splayed out on his couch, and he's lying on top of her, his head resting on her chest, her arms around him, their legs a mess of tangled limbs under the blanket. She's smiling, and all of it speaks of an intimacy he never knew he could have.
It takes him a few seconds to make his brain work, and then he's left staring and gaping at her. "Oh my God," he murmurs, cheeks turning red under her gaze. "I fell asleep on you, I'm so sorry, I-".
His apologies are met with a gentle smile. "Shut up," she tells him, earning a surprised look from him.
She lets out a small little laugh, her hands coming to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. He must have the worst case of bed (well, couch) hair imaginable, but she's not teasing him about it. Instead, she runs her fingers through his locks and stares at him with adoration in the back of her eyes, and Ben is left gaping again for a few minutes, blushing furiously, the tips of his ears burning by now.
"How are you feeling?" she asks him, in the end. Buttercup must have decided she had licked his face enough for the moment being, because she curls on the couch next to Rey and nuzzles against her, happily.
His heart twists at the sight. "I'm better," he replies. He's not shivering anymore, and his head feels a little bit clearer, and when Rey brings her hand on his forehead again, she smiles at him.
"Yeah, you're not burning anymore," she informs him, going back to thread her finger through his hair. He doesn't know how to thank her, so he just sighs and rests his head against her chest again, relishing in the way she hums, fingers playing with his strands. The moment is so quiet Ben can't believe it's really happening - it feels solemn, with Rey wrapped around him, her fingers carding through his hair, the other hand running up and down his back, following the line of his spine.
He wants to live in this moment forever.
Before one of them can say anything, though, the door of his apartment bursts open, and someone makes their way into his living room. Ben is so surprised he doesn't even remember how to move, and Rey stares back at him with panic in her eyes. Buttercup's head shots up, and her tail starts wagging furiously.
"Hey, Ben! Are you okay?" Poe's voice exclaims, and he can sigh in relief, his heart slowing down, even if he's still puzzled by his friend breaking into his apartment without a good reason. "Look, I'm sorry I used the key you gave me for emergency, but last time I heard you, you were sick and you haven't picked up your phone in almost twenty four hours so I guess this is an emergen- whaaaaat".
There's a moment of awkward silence, in which Poe stands awkwardly in front of his couch and stares at the two of them still tangled together, and Ben and Rey just stare back at Poe, while Buttercup jumps excitedly around the newcomer. Ben feels his cheeks on fire, and he doesn't know what to say, so he's with a sense of surprise that he notices Rey moving to better look at Poe.
"Poe?" she says, raising her eyebrows.
It takes him a moment to wrap his still feverish mind around it, and when he does, he turns to face Rey, gaping. He realizes it's kind of becoming an habit, when Rey's involved. "Wait," he says, his sleepy brain struggling to keep up with what is happening in front of him. "You know him?"
Rey gapes at him too. "You know him?"
"Oh, this is going to be magnificent," Poe says, crashing down on Ben's armchair as if it belonged to him, crossing his legs and staring at the two of them with a smirk on his face, as if they were some sort of funny show he didn't want to miss for anything in the world. "How long has this going on for?"
Ben feels weirdly under interrogation as Poe stares at the both of them. It takes him a moment to realize he's still lying on top of Rey, and her hands are still into his hair, and, as much as he hates the thought of moving away from her, he musters all his strength and pulls away, sitting upright as best as he can, trying to look as dignified as possible while still sick and with a blanket wrapped around his legs.
Poe is still staring at him, expectantly, eyebrows raised.
"A few months," Ben murmurs, rubbing his neck and doing his best to avoid his friend's gaze, glancing in Rey's direction. Her cheeks are red, and she looks adorable as she sits too, staring straight at Poe with no trace of embarrass on her face except for her slight blush. Warmth pools in Ben's stomach, and he likes her so much right now.
"A few months?" Poe repeats, in disbelief, as Ben turns to face him again. Something seems to click in Poe's brain, because his eyes widen and he brings a hand to his mouth. "Oh my God. The fucking shirt. Oh my god, Rey, Ben's the guy you kept telling Finn and Rose about?"
He's too stunned to even understand what's going on. "What?".
Rey, bless her soul, doesn't even flinch. She straightens her spine and stares right ahead of her, looking at Poe with such a surety Ben is both terrified and awestruck. "He is," she replies, quietly. "I didn't know you knew each other," she adds, with a shrug.
Poe blinks one, then twice.
Ben is sure his best friend is about to spontaneously combust, so he decides to intervene. "He's the friend I told you about yesterday," he says, bringing a hand on Rey's back, fingers digging into her sweater. She doesn't seem to mind, and leans into him, her body still so warm and soft. "My best friend, I mean".
She's clearly surprised. Her eyes are widened, and her lips are a perfect O. He wants to kiss her so much right now, but he tries not to think about it. "Oh".
"Know each other, she says," Poe mutters under his breath, shaking his head. "You do realize me and Finn have tried to set the both of you up for the past three months? And now I find out you were already dating".
He doesn't bother and try to deny it, and neither does Rey. They just turn to stare at each other, and the realization finally dawns on him as he looks at her beautiful, freckled face, eyes warm and full of fondness. Rey was that friend of Finn Poe was so eager to introduce him to for all these months. It was her, it has always been her.
She's all parted lips and slack jaw, as the knowledge makes its way into her mind too, and then she laughs, her usual silvery giggle that makes his inside twist in a funny way, and Ben has never felt more at home in his life.
*
rey (9:17 PM): hey how r u feeling
ben (9:18 PM): Better. Thank you for taking care of me, even if you didn't have to.
Rey takes her time to reply, and Ben's stomach drops for a second as he watches the three dots flicker on screen, appearing and disappearing at intervals. He wonders what she's thinking about right now, and he'd give his whole life to see her, and the way she furrows her brow when she's deep in thought.
rey (9:21 PM): ur an idiot, but ur lucky bc i like u anyway
His smile is so big and wide and so uncharacteristic that Buttercups looks at him in surprise.
*
"You know," Poe starts, taking a sip of his beer as he stares at Ben with watchful eyes, as if he expected him to do something weird at any moment. "Now that I think about it, it wasn't so unexpected".
It's been a few days, but it's clear that the surprise hasn't worn off yet, because his best friend still stares at him like he's suddenly grown a second head.
Ben raises his eyebrows and gives him a telling look. "You kept accusing us me and Rey of plotting to give you a heart attack," he reminds him, pointing a finger in his direction, a habit he has taken from him, apparently. "Which is, by the way, insane, since you were the one breaking into my apartment".
Poe snorts. "No, I know, but," he says, stealing a fry from his plate under Ben's offended gaze. "Now that I think about it, it was obvious".
His eyebrows arch further up, and Poe laughs again, shaking his head. "Look, Rey had started mentioning seeing someone who had recently adopted a dog at the shelter around the same time you had adopted Buttercup, and you were both unavailable on Sunday, and there was the fucking shirt, I mean ... " he gestures vaguely, staring at him with a focused expression, as if all the clues were written on his face. "I was kind of dumb not to put two and two together, because you weren't exactly being subtle".
No shit, Sherlock. He doesn't say it, because he respects his friend, and he feels kind of guilty for having kept this from him. Poe has always been there for him, no matter how grumpy and irritating Ben was and how much he had wanted to shake some sense into him, and it had felt weird, not to tell him something.
"Sorry I didn't tell you about it," he says, in the end, pressing his lips together as he watches his best friend steal another fry from his plate even if his is still full. Asshole. "I just ... I didn't even know what it was. Up until yesterday I was convinced she hung around just for Buttercup".
Poe, having known him for more than twenty five years, stares at him, blankly, as if Ben had just said something particularly stupid, which happens more often than not, and he's trying to decide how to insult him for it.
"You dumb sentimental idiot," he says, after a while, having deliberated that it was the best thing he could come up with on such a short notice. "She has been pining over you since forever, you know".
No, because I haven't asked her.
Ben shrugs, trying his best not to look as embarrassed as he feels. He wants this conversation to be over, but at the same time he's kind of happy to share this with Poe. Not that he plans to tell him, anyway. "Yeah, well," he replies, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Same".
At this, Poe laughs and shakes his head, as if he couldn't believe this turn of events. Ben can't either, to be honest, because he feels as shocked as he had been yesterday, when Rey had told him that she wasn't there for Buttercup.
He's still trying to convince himself that it really happened.
"Hey," Poe brings him back to reality, his voice softer this time. "I know it may sound weird, and I promise I won't get all emotional again..." he starts. There's a faint blush on his cheeks, but he doesn't pay any attention to it, and so does Ben. "But ... are you okay?"
Silence falls on them, as Ben tries to come up with an answer. Poe's gaze is gentle, but full of concern, and he's reminded of all the times he has made him worry over the past year. He thinks of all the breakdowns he has put him through, all the denial he has put up, all the protests escaping his lips as Poe had dragged him kicking and screaming into his therapist's office that first day so many months ago.
He deserves an honest answer. "I think I am," he murmurs, flashing him a small, hesitant smile. "Or, I think I'm going to be".
The smile Poe gives him is worth it all. "That's all that matters," he murmurs, and then, surprisingly, he stretches out his arm to pat his shoulder, awkwardly but fondly. Ben doesn't try to protest. "Ah, by the way. I am sorry for breaking into your house like that. I just worried".
He shakes his head. "I know," he murmurs, because he does know. He knows he had every right to be worried, after all. "Thank you for that. Just, don't do that again unless it's a real emergency".
Poe snorts again, stealing the last fry from his plate. "Trust me, man," he says, smirking at him. "I don't plan on walking in you and Rey at all".
He's too shocked to even protest.
"Ah, by the way," Poe adds, with a teasing smirk. "You know Rey worships your books right?"
*
rey (10:45 PM): hey, can i still come over on sunday? btw i'm asking because i want to see u, not your dog, not matter how much i like her. you idiot.
ben (10.45 PM): Rey. You can come over anytime you'd like.
*
His therapist stares at him with watchful eyes, and the hint of a smile just around the corner of her lips. "So," she starts, simply. Her hands are resting on her desk, her fingers splayed on the wooden material. "You're telling me you're doing better?"
It's - big. Ben knows it, she knows it. The walls probably know it.
But it's not a lie.
"Yes," he breathes. The nightmares are still there, but Buttercup snuggles closer to him when he wakes up sweating and breathing heavily, and there's still a lot he has to work on, but he thinks about Rey's smile, and for the first time in months, the future doesn't look so bad. "Yes, I think I am".
*
ben (3:34 PM): You know, my book is coming out in a week.
rey (3:39 PM): and u still don't want to tell me the title
There's a faint smile on his lips, when he types out an answer, and his heart hammers in his chest. It's a stupid idea, he knows it, but the thought doesn't stop him.
ben (3:41 PM): Trust me, you'll know.
*
"You owe me an explanation," Rey announces, storming into his apartment with a book in her hand and a determined expression on her face. She shoulders past him and steps in the middle of his living room, only stopping to pet Buttercup as the dog circles her.
Ben, slightly surprised and quite at loss for words stares at the door, then at Rey, blinking, and then his eyebrows shoot up. "And good morning to you, too," he says, running a hand through his hair. He closes the door with a thud, and turns to face Rey, who's still standing in the middle of his living room, her eyes fierce, her expression resolute. "What are you talking about?"
She gives him a knowing look, and waves the hand that's currently holding a book. Ben has to blink a few times to assure himself that the book is really A New Order, the last and final installment of the Star Wars series.
Oh. So, this is happening.
It's not like he has not been expecting it - in fact, just last night his stomach had twisted in a less than pleasant way at Rey mentioning to him she was going to pick up the book first thing in the morning because, as she had put it, she was so excited about it. So, he knew this was coming, and possibly very soon.
But still. This is happening.
"Don't play dumb, you know what I'm talking about," Rey tells him, giving him a stern look, and then crosses her arms over her chest. His gaze falls to the book again, and he gulps, trying to swallow the panic he feels mounting in him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Ben, being Ben, panics. "Tell you what?"
You dumb idiot, you can't deny your way out of this situation, you planned this.
Rey blinks and stares at him blankly. "Ben," she says, flatly. It kind of reminds him of Poe, when Ben says something stupid and his friend doesn't know how to react. She sighs again and runs a hand through her hair, shakes her head and then flashes him a small smile. Her voice softens on the next few words. "Why didn't you tell me you were Kylo Ren?"
He takes a few, tentative steps in her direction, stepping away from the door where he has stood until now. He lets out a deep breath, as her eyes follow him around. "I didn't know how to tell you," he admits, giving her a hesitant smile.
Rey smiles too, gently, and this spurs him on.
"At first, I didn't know if you, like, knew me at all and I thought it was awkward to tell you that. And then you started talking about it so excitedly and you said all those sweet things about my books and it kind of seemed an asshole move to come out and say Hey, remember the books you are so passionate about and that helped you? Well, I wrote it, so ..." he shrugs, at loss for words to explain his thought process, if there ever was one. "I kept the secret".
Rey tilts her head to the side, her hair brushing against her neck. Her skin is glowing in the morning light, and she looks at ease here, in his apartment, as if she had always belonged here. "But you dedicated the book to me," she says, frowning slightly, as if he didn't already know that. "If you wanted to keep the secret, why did you ..."
Because I'm an idiot.
"Yeah, well," he interrupts her, shoving his hands in the pocket of his jeans and averting his eyes for a moment. He glances at Buttercup, who's currently sitting on the couch and staring at them with her undivided attention. "I wanted you to know, in a way. So I figured out that maybe you would read the dedication and understand, and we wouldn't have to have this painfully awkward conversation".
There's a moment of silence, and then Rey laughs. The giggle he knows so well echoes in his apartment, and it's like magic, something compelling him to raise his eyes and stare at her. She's still laughing, her shoulders shaking, her nose scrunched up.
She's never been more beautiful.
"That's the dumbest plan I've ever heard," she tells him, when her laughter ebbs. Her voice is so impossibly soft, and tender, and he's so stupidly gone, so stupidly in love with her he doesn't even know how to exist.
He rubs his neck. "Well, it's me we're talking about, so," he says, as an explanation, and this makes Rey laugh all over again.
"How in the world we wouldn't had to have this conversation?" she asks him, but the corners of her mouth are curved upwards, and her eyes are shining from what he hopes it's happiness. "In the dedication, you said ..."
He sighs. "I know what I said," he murmurs, quietly, taking another step in her direction. Rey doesn't move, but her breath hitches on her lips as he comes to stand right in front of her, his hands few inches away from hers. "And I meant it. Every word of it".
She doesn't say anything, and he doesn't expect her to, because it's his turn. Now that this moment has arrived, it feels less like panic and more like something big unfurling deep inside him, something blossoming right under his skin. He's not afraid anymore, not when her eyes are soft and full of love, and when he reaches out and takes her hand into his, lacing their fingers together, he knows that's where he belongs.
Rey smiles, and her thumb comes to brush against his knuckles, tenderly.
"I know we've danced around this for a while now, neither of us taking the first step because we were too afraid of ruining it. And I know I've been dumb, thinking you were only coming here because of Buttercup," he tells her, and this makes her smile, gently, her lashes trembling against her cheeks as she blinks him in, her head slightly tilted backward to look at him. "So this is me. Taking the first step".
His other hand comes to brush against her side, and it settles on her waist, his fingers digging into the fabric of her sweater. Rey's breath hitches on her lips, and his heart stops for a minute as he looks at her, bathed in the golden light of the sun.
"And I'm sorry it had to be like this," he adds, shaking his head. "I'm sorry I have written it, instead of saying it out loud, but-"
He never gets to finish the sentence, because Rey lets the book fall down, grabs a fistful of his shirt and pulls him down in a kiss.
Kissing Rey is both exactly how he had imagined and completely different. It's beautiful, her lips pressed against his, so impossibly soft and gentle, and it's tentative, as her hand slowly makes its way up his chest, brushing against his muscles, cupping his face and then sinking into his hair, grasping the strands between her fingers. She lets out a small, sweet sound when he traces the seam of her lips with his tongue, and he'd spend his whole life trying to make her do it again.
Eventually, she has to pull away to breath, but she doesn't let him go. Instead, she wraps her arms around his neck and stares at him with her usual smile, both teasing and gentle at the same time. "I love you too," she says, simply.
And what it surprises him the most is not the fact that she loves him, or that he loves her too, but that it's all so simple and easy, like stepping into the sun and feeling its warmth on his skin. He has spent his whole life trying to understand love, thinking it had to be difficult, but instead, it's natural, and it spills from his lips with no effort.
"You know," he starts, teasingly, lowering himself so he can rest his forehead on hers, breathing her in. "The words I love you were never actually mentioned".
Rey laughs, her fingers playing gently with the hair at the base of his neck. "Oh?" she says, raising her eyebrows, teasingly. "Well, you should say it. It's only fair, after all".
He can't deny her anything. "I love you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She lets out a huff of breath, as if something in her was still afraid of him not feeling the same way. He kisses his way down her face, bringing his lips at the corner of his mouth. "I love you, I really do," he says again, and then he claims her lips, kissing her until the world stops turning.
When he pulls away, Rey is smiling so brightly he thinks he'll go blind. Then, out of nowhere, she grasp his shoulders for support and jumps, wrapping her legs around his waist with an ease he should found surprising, but he's so dumbfounded about this whole thing he doesn't have it in him.
His hands come to rest under her thighs immediately, balancing her against him, and pulling her even closer. "Sorry," she says, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I've wanted to do this since I first met you".
Ben laughs. "You wanted to climb me?"
Rey doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed, and he thinks he falls in love with her a little bit more. "Exactly," she says, almost proudly, her fingers sneaking past his the collar of his sweater to brush against his bare shoulders. He knows he's blushing, but who cares. Her fingertips trace small patterns against his skin, sending little shockwaves down his spine. "Take me to bed, Kylo Ren".
He can't help but laugh as he walks them around, guiding them towards his bedroom. His mind is still trying to process this, but his body is more than eager to please her, so he tries to follow its advice and go for it.
"You know," she says, pressing a very distracting kiss to his jaw, nibbling slightly at it and eliciting a small whimper from his lips. "I expected you to be older".
He scoffs. "Well, I'm a grumpy old man at heart, so you weren't that far off".
The whole apartment fills with the sound of her laughter.
*
"For Rey, who made me understand
why I've spent my whole life trying
to put love into words".