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The day Rey breezes into his life is an unusual one by Ben’s standards even before she comes into it.
It’s his first weekend since he quit his thankless job at First Order and transitioned into a normal one with Calrissian Consulting, it’s his first free Sunday in an actual decade, and it’s his first time having brunch with Poe and his group of friends after years of turning down the well-intentioned invitation.
So everything’s already a little odd to begin with, and then she comes into his life and completely turns his world upside down.
“Rey’s coming!” Poe’s boyfriend – Finn, if Ben remembers correctly – announces to the delight of the rest of the table, and Ben’s just about to turn to his right and ask Poe who this mysterious but beloved Rey is when he’s distracted by the slight commotion on the other side of the table instead.
There’s an empty chair between the blonde girl with two buns – Kay? – and the guy whose name Ben only remembers because who the hell names their child Snap of all things, but instead of leaving that seat open for Rey, the girl next to Finn – Rose? – decides to vacate her chair and wedge herself between the other two.
Which leaves the seat opposite Ben’s wide open for Rey when she arrives ten minutes later, slightly out of breath and rosy-cheeked and a goddamn vision with her bright eyes and blinding smile.
The way she says his name when they’re introduced, the way a spark seems to pass between them when they shake hands, the way his heart skips a beat when her foot accidentally brushes against his leg under the table and she meets his startled gaze with a sheepish little smile… Everything about Rey is a revelation, and it’s more than enough for him to completely forget the odd little seating shuffle from earlier and focus entirely on her instead.
But then it happens again the next time they meet for brunch.
And again, at dinner with about half of the usual group a few weeks later.
Over and over, whether Rey is the first or last to arrive, there’s some kind of unspoken arrangement between the group of friends that allows for her to always end up in the seat closest to the door.
Two months after he first meets Rey and two days before his first not-a-date date with her, he finally lets his curiosity get the best of him and asks Poe what the seating arrangement’s all about.
Poe stops mid-bite, his slice of pizza hovering in the air, and seems to freeze for a second before he reboots and shoves the rest of the pizza into his mouth. It takes him forever to chew, and then he shrugs and doesn’t quite meet Ben’s eye as he reaches for another slice.
“You know how it is with some girls, always needing to pee every ten minutes. It’s just easier for everyone if she can get out without the rest of us in her way.”
Ben doesn’t recall Rey disappearing to the bathroom mid-meal even once in all their two months of eating together (and he’s sure he’d notice, even on the rare occasion that they don’t end up seated next to or facing each other), but Poe shoots him a pleading look before Ben can call him out, and so they go back to eating their pizza in silence while some sitcom plays in the background.
Some secrets, Ben knows, have to be earned – and he’s fully prepared to do whatever it takes to prove himself worthy of Rey’s trust.
Two days later, he and Rey meet up at one of the group’s usual haunts for a quick bite before their movie starts. It’s some indie flick that’s only playing at one theater in town, averaging two showings a day, and when Rey had brought it up at brunch last weekend in an attempt to cajole someone into going with her, Ben had instantly and unthinkingly volunteered himself.
She’d beamed at him and declared, “It’s a date, then!”, and Ben had nearly choked on a bite of French toast.
This meal goes much better, with neither of them choking on their food even once (despite Rey inhaling her burger and fries at her usual alarming – yet somehow endearing – speed), and when Rey reaches out to catch his swinging hand in her own as they walk to the theater, Ben doesn’t even falter.
They just keep walking, hand-in-hand, and he sneaks a glance at Rey to find her sneaking a glance at him, only for them to share a smile and a laugh as they keep on walking, keep on touching.
There’s a meme on his phone, some random thing Poe had sent him a few days ago in response to… he can’t even remember anymore. Feels right, feels organic, the bold text had proclaimed.
Suddenly, Ben understands exactly what that means.
Holding hands with Rey, spending his evening with her, the two of them hanging out without the usual security blanket of everyone else… All of it feels right, perfect even.
Until they get to the theater and Ben automatically, unthinkingly folds himself into the aisle seat because… well, because that’s just where he always sits, all six feet two of him.
In the darkened hall, he doesn’t notice the way Rey hesitates before she settles into the seat next to him. He doesn’t connect the dots between the woman next to Rey resting her hand on their shared armrest and the way Rey tenses. He doesn’t realize, until the movie’s over and the lights come back up, how Rey has completely curled into herself and is restlessly tapping one foot until she can shoot up to her feet and get out of the confined space.
And when he finally sees the way she takes a huge gulp of air in relief as soon as she’s free again, he feels like the world’s biggest asshole.
“I’m so sorry,” he says as they begin to walk out, careful to keep his distance from her and place himself between her and everyone else so that she doesn’t feel crowded.
Rey turns back to him with a slight wrinkle between her brows. “What for?”
Ben frowns at his thoughtlessness even as he tries to put it into words. “I just… I know you have a thing about where you sit, I knew it and I still– I didn’t even stop to think– It’s always only been in restaurants, I didn’t realize–”
“Hey,” Rey says quietly, and it’s only the soft warmth of her hand in his that finally snaps him out of his downward spiral. “Ben, it’s okay. Really, it’s… it’s ridiculous. And I could’ve said something, I know you would’ve swapped with me if I’d asked–”
“You shouldn’t have to ask,” he tells her, working hard to keep his frustration with himself from coloring his voice. “And you won’t next time, I promise, I just want you to feel comfortable, Rey–”
Her free hand comes up to curve around his cheek, and he can’t help the way he instinctively leans into her touch. “I know, Ben. And I am – comfortable around you, I mean.”
And then she reaches up on her tip-toes to press a smiling kiss to his cheek, and that’s the end of that.
Ben never forgets that conversation, though, never lets himself forget to prioritize Rey’s comfort ever again.
He becomes part of the unspoken arrangement to make sure Rey always has the seat closest to the exit in restaurants, makes sure they always get the aisle seat no matter where they go so she can breathe easy, turns himself into a human barrier between her and the rest of the world whenever she needs it.
And the day Rey moves in with him, a little after the first anniversary of that not-a-date date that’d ended up becoming their first date, he moves all of his stuff from the right nightstand to the left so that she can sleep on the side of the bed he started thinking of as hers a long time ago, the side closest to the door.
When Rey notices the change, she lingers in his – their – doorway for the longest while, her eyes bright with emotion.
“This okay?” Ben asks, waving at the bed.
“Very okay,” she whispers as she walks into his arms, and that night she tells him everything: cramped quarters in crowded foster homes, locks on doors and ridiculous curfews, always trapped, always suffocated, always ready to run away at the first sign of trouble, ready to leave before she could be left–
“Sometimes… sometimes it still hits me, the urge to just run away from everything,” Rey confesses into the hollow of his neck, sounding impossibly small and scared and shy about the whole thing.
And Ben hates that his gut reaction to her admission is one of fear, but he’s so paralyzed by the thought of her leaving he can’t even begin to comfort her. “If you ever go, take me with you. Please,” he begs thickly, holding her closer and pressing his lips to her temple.
Rey shifts in his arms, stretches her neck and tips her head back to catch his lips with her own. “I could never leave you, Ben. I won’t ever leave you.”
He pulls her over him, kisses her until he can’t tell where he ends and she starts. “And I won’t ever leave you,” Ben echoes between kisses, “I swear, Rey, I’ll never leave you.”
Two years later, he seals that promise with a ring.
He’s not quite sure how they’ve managed to go three years together without ever sharing a flight, but it just so happens that the first time he and Rey get on a plane together, she’s his wife and they’re on their way to Naboo for their honeymoon.
It’s a well-honed reflex, by now, for him to go ahead of her and fold himself into a cramped seat so Rey can have the aisle seat. But he’s never done it on a tiny plane, and never for seven hours.
Everything starts hurting before they even take off, and then the seat belt sign goes off and the person in front of him reclines their seat – just the tiniest bit, really, they’re probably doing their best to juggle being comfortable and being considerate and that’s nice of them, but it’s doing jack shit for Ben and his knees pressed up to his chest and his shoulders slowly growing numb.
Seven hours, he just has to deal with this for seven hours and then he’ll be in paradise with his wife for two whole weeks, just seven hours–
Rey taps his left shoulder just before it loses all sensation. “Babe, let’s switch.”
He turns to her almost immediately. “What? No, sweetheart, it’s fine, I’m fine, I’m used to it, really–”
“I know you are,” Rey tells him with that soft smile on her face, the one he sometimes catches her giving him just because, “because you love me and you want me to feel safe. But,” she goes on before he can protest again, “I already do.”
She takes his hand, and it still takes his breath away just like the first time. Rey rubs soothing circles into his wrist with her thumb, and the smile on her face is still just as blinding as it was that day during brunch, all those years ago. “Ben, I always feel safe when I’m with you.”
It’s probably one of the most beautiful ways she’s ever told him she loves him without actually saying so, but Rey puts it into words for good measure. “And because I love you and want you to feel comfortable, we’re going to switch seats before you turn into a human pretzel… okay?”
Ben can’t help the little laugh that escapes him then, and Rey takes it as a sign to get up and urges him to do the same. She leans over to give him a chaste peck as soon as they settle back down, and then rests her head on his shoulder with a happy sigh.
She looks content enough when he peers down at her, but after three years of their unspoken arrangement, even the relief coursing through every single muscle in Ben’s body isn’t enough to drown out his concern. “Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart? We can switch back anytime, just let me know, I really don’t mind–”
Rey looks up at him with a lazy smile that reminds him of early mornings and warm sheets and belonging. “Ben. Baby. I’m fine.” And then, she says the words he only now realizes he’s been waiting for since the day she whispered all of her deepest, darkest secrets to him: “I don’t feel like running anymore.”
Suddenly flooded with relief and joy, Ben can only stare at her in a daze and ask, “You don’t?”
His wife smiles and shakes her head at him with a little laugh, whispers a string of words against his lips that warm his heart just as much as the kiss that follows.
“Why keep running when I’ve finally found the one thing I’ve always been running toward?”