Chapter Text
Summary: Kylo and Rey have a bonding moment over food.
This short bit was written for the @two-halves-of-reylo weekly challenge. This week’s challenge was “food.”
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Rations, again.
It’s not horrible. She isn’t starving like she did on Jakku. But now that she has had a taste of the galaxy’s bounty, it’s hard to not look at the mush in her bowl and wish it was something else. Something with flavor. Something with spice. Hell, something that tasted like dirt would be better than this gruel. She idly pushes it around after taking a spoonful, suddenly not feeling like eating.
Well…thats not accurate. She feels ravenous. If someone put a bowl of fruit, rice, or anything but this crap in front of her she would stuff her face in seconds flat and spend the next couple of hours happily nursing a food pooch.
The thought of all the different foods she could possibly eat other than rations makes her mouth water.
“You okay?” Finn asks as he has a seat next to her, ration bowl in hand. “You’re not eating much.”
“Not that hungry,” She mutters, and then her stomach growls loudly and she flushes a little in embarrassment. Finn raises an eyebrow.
“You sure about that?”
She grabs her bowl and clutches it to her chest before starting to get up.
“Just can’t seem to stomach the rations, right now. But I’ll save it for later. Maybe after I train a little I’ll feel like eating.”
He watches her with a furrowed brow as she leaves with a wave, but turns back to the table when Rose has a seat across from him and asks a question. Probably about what is wrong with Rey. She loves her friends dearly, but this entire spending time together thing all the time is taking a small toll on her sanity. Deciding to follow what she told Finn, she stumbles off toward her meditation spot with her little bowl of rations. Maybe if she let her mind slip away and clear then she would feel better about the gruel.
Her little meditation spot isn’t much, but there isn’t another place other than the cockpit that gives her such a spectacular view of space. So she slides into the gunner’s seat and crosses her legs. She leaves her little bowl between her legs, before closing her eyes and letting her mind drift.
Sometimes, when she sits in the calm quiet of the gunner’s seat he will visit. She doesn’t know how or why it works sometimes and then doesn’t others, but apparently, the force is motion because tonight it decides to bridge them across the galaxy.
“Scavenger.”
She opens her eyes and meets his across the short span of the room he is in. She recognizes it immediately. It’s his chambers. They’ve met enough in the bond now to know specific places.
“Ben.”
His jaw does that twitch it always does when she calls him by his given name. But he doesn’t stop her.
“The gunner’s seat again. Getting tired of being around the rebel scum?”
She frowns at that, and he purses his lips.
Then her eyes fall to the tray of food on his table. Apparently, it was supper time where he was, too. And his supper looks so much better than hers. She tilts her head to see, trying to imagine what each bit would taste like. There is a bowl of fruit, some of which she doesn’t recognize, and a plate of meat. It looks like some type of fish. There are steaming vegetables and some type of sauce. She frowns as the smell of it all hits, and she curses this bond. This bond that is becoming so strong she can now smell the food on his table.
She only looks up, cheeks heated, when he clears his throat. Their eyes meet, and for a second they hold, until his eyes travel down to her lap and he raises an eyebrow.
“Is that all the resistance has to offer?”
“For the time being,” She replies, trying to put as much cheerfulness into it. She fails. Even she can hear the disappointment in her voice.
He snorts and turns to grab a fruit.
“So you turned down all of this, for that.”
There isn’t a hint of crack or waver to his voice, but there is something else she can’t quite identify. She wants to say it is almost a joke or a ribbing, but she doesn’t think its that either. Besides, she has never known him to have a sense of humor.
She looks down at the bowl of gruel and picks up the spoon. She carefully brings it to her mouth and swallows, not looking away from his gaze. She has to really fight down the urge to spit it out. She swallows and takes a breath before smiling. She holds out the empty spoon, a spark of triumph in her eyes.
“Food is food wherever you are. And I didn’t join for the food. I joined for the company.”
His eyes slide away from her face, and he turns to grab a fruit from the bowl. He tilts his head just so he can make eye contact and then takes a slow bite. Whatever the fruit is, it’s juicy and blue. Some of its flesh slides down his mouth and he reaches a hand to wipe it away before letting out a completely dramatic little content sigh.
“I don’t know. I think I’d sell a few of the stormtroopers for a good JubaJuba fruit.”
For a second her eyes are locked on his mouth and the blue flesh of the fruit. And she thinks her brain has short-circuited a bit because she can’t seem to stop imagining what that fruit tastes like. Is it sweet? It smells like it would be sweet and perhaps a bit tart. It looks fairly pulpy, too. A bit like a mango? Something tropical and fresh and oh so much better than the crud sitting in her lap. Then she snaps out of it, shaking her head.
“Can’t be that good, then. It’s not like stormtroopers are worth much to you.”
He shrugs, and takes another bite, “True,” he mutters as he eats, “But it’s a damn sight better than that.”
She goes to refute, but he waves a hand in the air as if dismissing her.
“Don’t even try. You are drooling.”
She raises a hand to her mouth, and sure enough, she is.
Its been too long since she has had any other food, something that doesn’t taste like wood or cardboard. And the smell of the fruit, the fish, all of it is making her stomach churn and apparently her mouth to water.
“Fine. It does look and smell much better than this,” She sighs at the bowl and starts moving a few bits around, looking morose.
There is a pregnant silence, one that is only broken when Ben inches his chair a little closer and extends his hand across the bond. In it is the fruit.
“Have you ever tried a JubaJuba fruit?”
She shakes her head, eyes falling to the one in his hand. Is he offering her some? Or will he just pull it away and get some spiteful retribution for his rejection? They just look at each other for the longest time, and then Rey reaches forward. Their fingers touch, briefly, and she feels that same jolt she did on Ach-To and every time since they have touched. Brief moments. The elevator. In the throne room. A couple of times through the bond. And each time its a flash of passion.
Its gone the minute she takes the fruit, and he pulls his hand back. But his eyes are following the fruit as she lifts it to her mouth and takes a slow bite.
It is a little more tart than she expected, and she wrinkles her nose. Though it has some sweetness to cut it, she is not used to such sour things. But it is so much better than the rations. It makes her mouth pucker, her eyes water, and force it makes her tongue sing. She takes another bite.
His eyes are still locked on her as she slowly takes a few more bites, wiping away bits of the juicy fruit. But she didn’t realize how close he is until she feels his finger against her chin. She freezes, fruit halfway to her mouth as he uses his thumb to wipe away some of the juices. And his eyes, those dark brown eyes are glued to her lips. Her skin heats and prickles pleasantly at the contact and at the intensity of his gaze.
Then his eyes slowly make their way up to look at her, his eyes dilated. Her chest is moving up and down much faster than it had seconds ago, and it goes even faster as his thumb slips over her mouth.
And then he pulls back, grabbing her hand and taking the fruit from her. She doesn’t fight, just watches as he takes another bite of the fruit while she watches. This time her eyes fall to his lips, to the blue juices running down his chin again. And not really knowing what possesses her, other than the fire that seems to be flowing through her veins, she reaches out and wipes away the juices from his chin.
He goes rigid as if he hadn’t expected her to touch him. But he doesn’t pull away. His eyes just seem to go a little wider.
She pulls away a few seconds later, tucking her hand against her chest. Her voice comes out hoarse and whispered.
“I think I like JubaJuba fruit. I’d sell a few stormtroopers for one, too.”
He stares at her like the words aren’t registering. As if something has fried his circuits and he isn’t quite computing.
“I think I’d sell them all.” He whispers and then realizes what he said before pushing back in his chair and putting some distance between them. She can just see the tips of his ears turning red as he turns away to stab at his fish.
At first, she thinks he is upset, that he is hacking away at his food like he does with his lightsaber.
Until she realizes he is cutting everything in half and piling it up in a bowl. It dawns on her he means to give her half of his meal. He throws a few fruits from the bowl on top, and then reaches across the bond.
“If they aren’t going to feed you properly, at least I can help. Best if you are not dying of malnutrition when we meet again.”
She wraps her hands around the bowl, and their fingers meet again. The little spark flares back to life.
“Thanks,” she whispers, and he pulls away.
She thinks that will be it, that they can end this little visit on a more pleasant note. But this is Ben Solo, Kylo Ren or whatever name he decides to inherit this decade and she knows him well enough now to know it is never enough. He always has to take it that one last step and ruin it all.
“If you had joined me you would have wanted for nothing.”
A sad smile pulls at her lips. Because he is right, for the most part. If she had joined him, she knows he would have done everything in his power to make her happy. To make her stay.
“I know,” She whispers. She keeps the ‘…but it’s not enough…’ to herself. But it hangs in the air.
“Maybe someday it will be.”