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His students call him Hades —that’s the first thing she learns after seeking out his RateMyProfessor profile. What follows is a series of negative reviews:
He’s unreasonable. He’s mildly terrifying. He’s a hardass. He’s an asshole, period. It’s only broken by one positive comment; soft skin.
It earned a laugh at the time, but now that she’s standing in the open doorway to his class listening to him speak, well...now Rey understands .
He’s tall and broad and magnetic; sharp prominent features arranged on a pale complexion (seemingly smooth, she admits) that contrasts so beautifully with the dark hair that sweeps across his forehead in waves. There’s no smile or warmth that crosses his expression during the lecture, radiating nothing but cool indifference, and when someone dares to interrupt, his glare is truly something to behold.
From first impression, Rey cannot deny what circulates on his profile. She also can’t deny the sudden wash of heat that rushes to her cheeks simply by studying the hands that move so animatedly when talking; simply by that voice, rising and falling, echoing within the room and further outside the hall.
Everything about Professor Kylo Ren is loud and intense. She supposes that’s why Hades makes sense.
She watches until he wraps up the lecture, students quick to pack up and bustle out. They barely spare her a glance on the way.
Then he’s alone; back presented to her, packing up as the last few people trickle out. Rey builds up every bit of courage she can muster.
“Ben,”
The name rolls off her tongue, faint, but clear enough to inspire an instant reaction. As the last student brushes past, knocking into her shoulder with a mumbled half-hearted apology, Rey notes the way his insanely broad shoulders hunch up to his neck. A hand reaches forward, bracing himself on the desk in front; gathering himself.
She waits, barely breathing; book clutched tight to her chest.
He turns.
“It’s…” He halts to clear his cracking voice. “It’s Professor Ren, Miss—”
“Niima.” Rey answers the unsaid question.
“Niima.” He repeats slowly, brows furrowing. “Niima.” Ren murmurs again, voice lower and smoother, eyes flicking to meet her own. “Forgive me, I don’t think—”
“I’m not a student,” She blurts out. “I mean, I’m a student...just not yours.”
“Ah,” He nods in understanding, arms crossing to fold over his massive chest, leaning back to rest his thighs against the edge of the desk. Rey braces herself against the doorframe, focusing in on the second-to-top button that strains, barely holding it together.
She’s never related to a button before, and yet, here she is.
“Did you have a question about the course?”
“No,” Rey shakes her head and braves a step closer. His hands, clutching at the desk, shift and rest on the tops of his thighs. “Not about the course.” They’re digging into his pockets, now, as she steps even closer. His eyes seem to dance, glancing her up and down. “I just…what you wrote in here, actually; I have questions for it.”
“What I wrote?”
“In this.” She gestures to the copy of mixed tales surrounding Greek Mythology, a nervous smile twitching at her mouth. Squirming under his gaze, Rey glances down to the cover, running her hand over the surface. “I found it in the library; liked a lot of your takes.”
He nods, frowning slightly while taking the book from her outstretched hand. He opens it a second later, flicking through the pages until something catches his attention, stopping to search more thoroughly.
“I wrote this years ago. Back when I was a student.” He says flatly, finger following the neat cursive written in such small handwriting. Rey studies him; his eyes, scanning across the page, immersed in his own analysing.“I’m surprised the library hasn’t thrown it away.”
“I’m glad they didn’t,” She admits sheepishly. “It’s all very helpful. I’m not good at analysing text in depth—you present a new view. Something that never even occurred to me, really, and...well it’s strange, but I just...like it.”
Ren glances up, full lips flat, and quirks a thick brow. “Passing my ideas as your own?”
Rey pales. “No,” She says quick. “No, no, not at all…” Ben? “...Sir. I just, um, appreciate your insights. I’m trying to make sense of it.”
“Right.” His mouth tugs into a small smile before parting to dab his thumb along his tongue, turning the page to continue reading. “Definitely not an english major then?”
“Science Major,” She corrects. “Though I am getting my masters now. Environmental Science.”
He pauses. “Interesting,” He hums, deep and from his chest. “And why’s an aspiring environmental scientist fascinated by margin notes on Greek mythology?”
“I like to read.” Rey shrugs. “But books are expensive. The library is free.”
“Mmh, as it should be with this still on the shelf.” In one hand, he shuts the book, stretching it back towards her. “Is that all you were after?”
She takes it hesitantly. “Kind of.”
“Kind of.” he echoes slowly.
“I was hoping to, I don’t know… understand it more.” He doesn’t respond and the silence stretches on. “I just find your points compelling.”Rey continues quietly.
“Oh?” He intones, breathing in deep, thinking; hand resting on his chin, thumb toying with that plump bottom lip. “There’s nothing… they’re not special or new, those notes. Plenty of people have made the same observations, the same connections—I’m sure all the points have been made a thousand times over before. Just reading them made it clear I was a college student at the time—”
“They seemed personal,” Rey cuts in swiftly. “Like you were influenced by experience, almost...” Her fingers toy with the hem of her skirt; a motion he notices and quickly looks away from. “You seemed to relate.”
“That’s awfully personal to ask.”
“It wasn’t a question.”
“No.”He confirms, shuffling closer. “But you’re waiting for me to elaborate; to tell you exactly what you’re not asking.” she gazes up at him innocently, head cocked to the side. “I s’pose all of us want to relate to Gods in one way or another.” Rey blinks as a beat passes. “That was a joke.”
“Ah,” She smiles.
“Not a very funny one, I see.”
“Well people do call you Hades.”
His brow quirks at this, an amused twist to his full mouth. “They what?”
“Your students,” Rey explains. “To them, you’re God of the Underworld.”
“Wonderful.” He huffs out a small laugh.
“You’ve never checked your ratemyprofessor profile?”
“I never intend to.” There’s a pause, his jaw working as if chewing on an idea. It takes a moment for her to realise he’s merely hesitating—on what is the mystery. “I have to prepare for my next class. Walk with me and I might mention my personal connection.”
Ah.
Rey studies him quietly with a mute nod of her head. It inspires a turn of lips, head bowing to quickly disguise what seems to be a smile.
He turns away from her then; rounding the desk to pluck up his satchel, slinging it over his (frankly massive) shoulder before his hand suddenly rests an inch away from the small of her back, ready to guide her out the door.
“There are many lessons to be learned from myths,” He begins, hovering close by. “Pandora’s box is a perfect example of ‘curiosity killed the cat’.”
“This seems more like a lecture than a personal explanation.”
“Perhaps if you pointed out specific myths—”
“Your perception on Hades and Persophone.”
He hits her with a smoldering look, suddenly stopping to peer down at her with a fierce sort of curiosity.
“I can assure you I’ve never kidnapped someone,” She wants to laugh; to smile at his wit. But he’s too close, too intense and his voice is simply too low. “But I have wanted certain things so desperately and used questionable methods to achieve them.”
“Like what?” She breathes out, gaze hovering above his shoulder. Rey wonders where he’s looking and if the heat that travels through her bloodstream is a cause of his eyes searching her body all over.
“Now that really is too personal.”
This time when they take off, his hand forgets all formality and rests at the small of her back. It’s warm through her blouse, spreading all the way to blot at her cheeks. Perhaps it’s her imagination (or worse, her desire), but it feels as if his long fingers curl into the fabric to hold on.
Somehow, her face becomes even more red at this.
“You can’t just say something ominous like that and not continue.” She mumbles. “It’s like when someone says ‘nevermind’ after promising a story.”
“I apologise.” He didn’t sound sorry one bit. In fact, he almost sounded smug; a quick turn of head confirms the tone after spotting the lopsided smirk. “But I’m curious too: how did you find me?”
“Google,”Rey shrugs. “There were old pictures of you and my roommate was in one of your classes. It was kind of easy to put two-and-two together.”
He nods, looking a little disgruntled. “How old were the pictures?”
“Your hair wasn’t long.”With a grin, she watches as his face burns red. “I happen to like your ears.”
“Who’s your roommate?” He quickly switches the subject.
“Finn Trooper—”
“Oh,”
“Oh is right,” She laughs, “He said you were awful—”
“Well he very obviously wasn't into the course,” He defends in one quick breath. “I try my best to weed out those who aren’t interested or motivated. I’m really doing them a public service.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him that.”
The distance between them and is office begins to close. For a moment, Rey almost drops to the ground to retie her shoes—just to delay the inevitable a little longer.
She doesn’t, though. They continue their steady pace, his palm on the small of her back, not stopping until she’s between him and the door.
“Thank you, Miss Niima, for an insightful afternoon—”
“Wait!” She calls, panicked. The hand reaching for his office door falls back to his side. “I was just—there’s more I wanted to discuss. More about the actual mythology, I mean, not just... you.”
Ren’s head cocks to the side. “I thought the two were connected?”
“They are, but…”She trails off. “There’s just more to share, right?
He laughs, straight from the throat. It’s smooth and low, hitting straight to the core. Rey thinks she could fall in love with that laugh.
“You are stubborn, aren’t you?” She smiles up at him, not daring to reply. “Alright,” His strong jaw nods curtly— just the once. “You know that small Cafe just across campus? Kanata’s?”
“Yes.”
“We could meet there later—you bring that book and point out everything you want to know.”
“What time?”
He flicks his wrist, peering over his nose while toying with those pink plush lips of his. “Around five-thirty?’
“Okay. I’ll...see you then?”
He gifts her a small smile, warming up his dark, intense eyes.
“See you then, Rey,”A pause. “And you don’t need to call me Sir. Kylo is just fine.”
“Kylo,” She nods. “Right. See you then.”
For three solid long seconds, he stares—Rey forming an abundant of questions in her head. Why Kylo, not Ben? What did he want so badly and how did he get it? How IS his skin so soft looking.
Then he disappeared behind his door, and Rey’s left with her own desperate want:
An answer to each and every one of her questions; an answer to Professor Kylo Ren himself.
~ * ~
Rey’s whole afternoon is spent drowning in her own nerves, mind unable to settle after that magnetic first conversation. She didn’t expect him to indulge her so much, but here she is—agonising over the decision to change into something nicer while frantically noting the time with each passing minute.
Eventually, the time they’d settled on arrives too fast and it’s too late to change and suddenly she’s running down the stairs of her complex because clearly she’d agonised too long and—
He changed. Evidently, upon walking into the cafe, it appears that Professor Kylo Ren had no trouble deciding a change of clothes was in order. No, the button down has indeed been replaced with a thick, soft-looking turtleneck and his legs now crammed into tight black jeans.
It’s sinful, really.
“Afternoon Rey,” He smiles as she approaches, voice low. She’s too focused on his hands clutching that ridiculously small coffee cup to notice anything else, however. “I let Maz know that your order is on me—”
“Oh, I can pay—”
“I insist—”
“I can pay.” She repeats, a little too hotly. He blinks at this, leaning back into his seat with narrowed eyes as Rey begins to blush. “I’ll just…” She gestures to the counter. “ Yeah,”
The wait for her iced coffee isn’t enough for the mortification to ebb away.
“Hi,” She begins again, brighter than attended.
“Hello.”He mutters softly. “Shall we?” Kylo’s head nods to the book.
“Oh, yes—” She quickly flicks through the pages until landing on Eros and Psyche. “I was hoping to—”
“Not this one.”
“Sorry?”
“Not this one. Please.” When Rey glances up, he’s blushing. “I just...it’s silly.”
“What’s so silly about it?”
He huffs out a laugh, though it sounds almost pained. “Everything.” Rey only stares at him, unflinching. “It comes from a place of— Jesus Christ —a place of insecurity. So I’d rather not.”
There’s a pause and, to an almost embarrassingly satisfying degree, his giant, hulking form shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
“Enlighten me.” Rey pushes.
“Well I s’pose this was—when I wrote this, I was young. Please remember that—”
“Kylo—”
“A fantasy, though. That’s how this feels to me—like my own fantasy.” He continues, raking a hand through his hair. “To have someone so… devout that they’d do anything. To love me so much and— and not just purely off attraction, but by everything else:
“Kindness and pleasure and sweet words, not appearance.”
“I like that.” She blurts out quickly. “I really like that.”
“I...really?”
“You seem surprised.”
“Well you’re beautiful.” His eyes widen at his sudden statement. “Sorry, it’s just—well, to society, you’re beautiful.” Her brows furrow at this. “I just mean—”
“That you’re insecure about your appearance.”
“No, no,” Kylo says absently, pitch higher than usual. “No, not that...well... yes.”
“But you’re beautiful.”
“What?”
“Like, crazy beautiful in a really unfair way—”
“I’m not following.”
“I’m calling you beautiful because you think you’re not beautiful but you are.” Rey explains quickly. “Beautiful, that is.”
“Ah,” He nods. Then, “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Indulge me.”
Rey sucks in a deep breath, exhaling as she does exactly that, eyes fluttering to a close.
“What I wanted to convey is how little appearance matters. Attraction can be built on so many things:” She hears him shift in his chair. “My voice,” Rey shivers. “My touch,” His fingers brush against her own, briefly. “My kindness.
“But we put so much attention on how we look. It jeopardizes Psyche’s relationship to the point where she could lose what matters most. She needs to see that her loving husband isn’t the hideous monster that’s been painted when it shouldn’t matter.”
“You’re saying you don’t take appearance into account—”
“No.” He shuts her down quickly. “Not at all. That’s impossible. It just... it takes more for a lasting impression.”
“Right,” Rey breathes out, eyes still closed. It’s silent and his eyes feel hot on her skin—it has to be his eyes and, oh, his hand is touching hers again and—
“Rey!” She jolts in her chair, eyes opening to find her own Professor Dameron standing beside the table, hands on hips with a wide grin. “You’re not trying to steal my student, are you Ben?”
His expression morphs into a glower. “No. Miss Niima just had some questions.”
“Good to hear.” Poe continues. “She’s too good; you’d be lucky to have her.”
“I would.” He agrees, eyes moving to hers. It sets her heart on a race, Poe simply fading into background noise.
~ * ~
He insisted on walking her home, after everything had been discussed. It was dark and Rey didn’t want this to end, so she agreed.
“What did you want so badly?” She suddenly pipes up as her complex comes in view. She has to know.
“You’re very stubborn.”
“I’m curious—”
“I’ve noticed,” He’s smiling. “Alright. But I get to ask something of you after—a trade.”
Rey hesitates as they reach her doorstep. “Fine.”
He swallows thickly, then unleashes everything in a quick sentence.
“I wanted to piss off my Uncle—really piss him off—so I smashed every valuable thing he had.” He takes a step forward. “When I was young, my father made a habit out of leaving, disappearing for weeks. Sometimes months. It took me seventeen years of wanting him to stay to total his car.” Another step and she’s backed up against her door. “Then there’s my mother, always calling; always nagging; always disappointed . She finally stopped after I changed my name.” He searches her eyes. “This upsets you—”
“They’re your family.”
“They would’ve disappointed you.” It’s low and almost sympathetic, his voice. “And you insisted on knowing.”
“I don’t have a family.” She admits quietly, gaze dropping to his shiny shoes.
His large hand rises to cup her chin, tilting her head to meet his gaze. “Then make one.” Hard eyes stare down into her own, briefly flicking to slightly parted lips. “The people we love—the ones we’re supposed to love unconditionally—they can reciprocate it in the worst of ways. So find the people who don’t treat you like garbage.”
It’s silent and Rey can’t bare it. “What do you want to ask?”
He shifts, hand still warm on her chin moving to cup her cheek.
“May I kiss you?”
A sharp intake follows his request, then a slow nod of her head. His lips quirk up into a small delighted smile at this before pressing ever-so-gently to her own. It’s a slight brush against her own mouth, really—soft and lingering as her hand comes up to lay against his cheek (so very smooth).
It’s over all too soon.
“Thank you,” He whispers. “Today was—”
Before Kylo can say another word, her mouth is back on his. Rey’s arms wrap tight around his neck, curling into his shoulder while pressing herself closer and deeper until there’s no more space left.
His reaction is instant—palms flat against her back, lips opening to allow a wandering tongue. He hums into their passion, nipping at a sensitive bottom lip when finally pulling back.
“Kiss me like that and I’ll ask to come inside.” He warns breathily, chest rising as his eyes turn a delicious shade of dark chocolate.
“And if I want you to come inside?” Rey braves to ask, looking up with a questioning gaze she hopes doesn’t read as desperate.
The pause is long and she feels like squirming.
Finally, he stops chewing on his cheek.
“Then all you need to do is ask.”
~ * ~
He’s a snuggler. He also radiates heat to the point where she kicks the blankets off. And his mouth is just—
Well, thinking about that is just too much really.
Rey’s convinced Kylo is sculpted by the Gods, chest a wall of muscle that’s near impossible to use as a pillow—she does though. Even with his even, mellow breathing beneath her head, she is content to burrow in deeper while tapping away at her phone.
These are just the few things she learns about him in their short time spent together.
“Mmwhat are you doing?” He asks, half awake as the sun streams in through the blinds.
“Nothing,” She sounds out innocently while typing out the review.
Not Hades—Eros, more accurately. And very soft skin.
“Did you just mark me as easy in difficulty?”
Kylo grabs her phone as Rey laughs, involuntarily sinking into his warmth deeper than she thought possible. His arm wraps around her in response, unwilling to let her go.
“You better be giving me an A-plus!”