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What a great view.
Ben contemplated the vista spread before him. Trees, buildings, billboards, power lines - sure, it was ordinary, but he’d never seen the street from this particular angle before. It was refreshing.
So was the breeze. It stroked every inch of his skin, raising pleasant goosebumps and running spectral fingers through his hair, a cool and sensuous contrast to the warm fog inside his head.
If only he could remember why he was there.
“Hey Ben, come on now. It’s time to get down.”
Ben ignored the coaxing voice coming from below. He’d climbed up here to get away from Dameron, hadn’t he? The noise, the swirl of people, it was all of no consequence.
Up here he had the view, he had the breeze, he had...a mission. Didn’t he have a mission? He couldn’t quite recall.
Ben belched gently, waving the fume of alcohol from his nose, and turned to take in more of the landscape, prudently leaving a hand on the light pole next to him since the ground was a little far away. A big sign in white and green and red came into view, and he blinked at it, vague visions of Tony Stark dancing through his brain.
Doughnuts.
Oh!
Stark dissolved in a little cloud of red and gold as memory started to return. Doughnuts, he’d come for doughnuts. Lots of doughnuts.
...Why?
Ben hated doughnuts. They were oversweetened, greasy carb bombs, a week’s worth of sugar in a single one; too rich, too soft, too much a reminder of Sunday mornings with his father long ago -
Ben wrenched his mind out of the track of that memory. A siren whooped to a stop nearby, but he barely heard it, or the crackle of a two-way radio. He hated doughnuts, yet here he was. He was going to buy a ton of them, dozens of glistening culinary obscenities, for...for...
For Rey. That was it. Ben nearly cheered in triumph, swaying a little as the breeze puffed harder. He was going to give them all to Rey, because she loved doughnuts, and he loved her.
Even though she loved doughnuts. And off-brand cola. And those horrible neon-orange corn snacks. And karaoke. And Poe. He could forgive her anything, even her friendship with Poe.
Ben frowned. Poe. Poe definitely had something to do with this, Ben was sure of it. The entire situation reeked of Damneron’s machinations. And weird liquor. And anise.
Pernod, that was it, a whole bottle. Pastis and Poe. Poe and pastis.
“Poestis,” Ben muttered vengefully. The trouble with Poe was that liquor made him even more eloquent. More persuasive.
How was that fair? All it did to Ben was soften him up. It loosened his tongue. Too much to drink, and he got agreeable.
Ben sighed. Someone unfamiliar was calling up to him now, trying to get him to come down. I don’t want to.
He liked it up here, where there was a breeze and no Dameron. What had they been doing, anyway? It had been Poe’s fault, of course. Shot glasses. Stupid ideas.
“I dare you to streak the Ethel Shopping Center.” Poe’s face was flushed, his smile gleaming. “Just once around the parking lot.”
Ben stared into the bottom of his empty glass. “’M not a teenager any more, Poe. ‘M n’ accountant . Supposed to be dignified.”
Poe poured again, the scent of licorice filling the air. “I have fifty bucks that says you’ll do it.”
Ben considered it. He could buy a lot of doughnuts with fifty dollars, and the shop was right there…
A monotonous beep drilled its way into Ben’s consciousness, and he blinked. I didn’t know firefighters could fly.
The man hovering in the air in front of Ben gave him a kind smile. “Hey there, brother,” he said. “It’s time to come down. Aren’t you getting a bit cold?”
Ben thought about it. Yes, he was kind of chilly now. “Poe owes me,” he mumbled. “Gotta get Rey’s doughnuts.”
“Well, Poe’s on the ground,” the firefighter said. “If you want to talk to him, you have to come down.”
Ben straightened, fixing the man with as much of a glare as he could manage. “Don’t wanna talk to him. I just want m’money.”
“His wallet’s down there too,” the firefighter pointed out with inescapable logic, and Ben heaved a sigh. The man wasn’t really flying, Ben realized with a touch of disappointment. He was standing in a bucket lift.
“Okay,” Ben said ungraciously. “But we gotta go get doughnuts.”
“Mm-hmm,” the firefighter said agreeably, and opened the bucket’s gate so Ben could step inside with him.
The short ride to the ground made Ben dizzy, and after that it was swarms of people and someone shoving pants at him and Poe’s triumphant voice, and when they put him in the back of a police car it was a relief to get away from the fuss.
His cell at the jail wasn’t bad. A little small, maybe, but again - no Poe. “Just until you sober up,” the police officer had told him, a smirk tugging at her lips. “We can discuss charges then.”
He’d been left blissfully alone. Ben put on the rest of his clothes and lay down, enjoying the cool of the concrete floor and hiccuping once in a while.
He could just begin to feel the hangover headache looming when he heard footsteps and sat up, waiting out the dizziness. The officer was back, leading a familiar figure.
“You have a visitor,” she said cheerily, and Ben lurched to his feet. It took a couple of tries, and by the time he was up the officer was gone and there was only Rey, standing on the other side of the bars and looking very upset.
“Ben, are you all right? Poe said you got arrested.”
“‘M fine,” he mumbled, taking her in with wide eyes and trying to remember. He’d wanted to do something for her, hadn’t he? “We were just drinking.”
Rey’s brows went up. “I got that,” she said dryly.
Ben frowned. “How’d you know?”
“What, besides the whole streaking thing?” She pointed. “You usually wear your underwear inside your jeans.”
Ben glanced down. That did explain why he’d had so much trouble getting them on; but he dismissed the issue as irrelevant. “It’s Poe’s fault. The drinking.”
Rey snorted, stepping forward a bit to grip the bars separating them. “Isn’t it always?”
It really was. Ben frowned again, then drooped as memory bobbed to the surface. “Oh no, your doughnuts! I didn’t get your doughnuts.”
Rey blinked. “What?”
“The doughnuts, no, the, the money. It was for you, for the doughnuts.” Ben struggled to get the words out past the last of the pastis. “It was a bet.”
Rey cocked her head, then put her hands through the bars to take his. Her fingers were warm, and felt good against his skin. “Let me get this straight. Poe bet you you wouldn’t climb naked up a light pole, and you did it so you could get snack money?”
“Not f’me,” Ben said, indignant. “I took the bet so I could buy doughnuts f’you. Because I love you and you should have doughnuts. Because you love them. Because.”
Ben felt like there should be another reason in the chain, but he couldn’t figure out what. The jerk of Rey’s hands in his distracted him, though, and he automatically tightened his grip. Her cheeks were poppy-red.
“Wait, what? You love me?”
“Yes,” Ben said, because he did, and when he was drunk it was simple.
“Wh-why didn’t you say something?” She sounded bewildered, and Ben really wished he had those doughnuts, to make her feel better. “Or, I mean, ask me out or something?”
“Sober me can’t say it out loud.” It made him sad, but he was used to that. “An’ you don’t so it doesn’t matter.”
He freed one hand to reach up and pat her cheek, light and a bit clumsy. “Don’t be mad. When I’m sober I’ll pretend I never said it.”
Rey frowned, but before she could speak the officer came back. “Okay, break it up. It’s time to go, miss.”
Rey pulled her hand back, giving him an intense stare. “I’ll see you later. We are going to talk.”
“Mm-hm.” Ben watched her walk away and sighed. She never stayed. Always going away and leaving him alone.
He lay back down, on the cot this time, and closed his aching eyes.
Ten hours of community service. That was all.
Ben knew it could have been a lot worse, and he was grateful that it wasn’t. But the sentence seemed a small thing next to his humiliation.
He’d thought about claiming he couldn’t remember the entire episode, once he recovered from a truly massive hangover. But Poe knew perfectly well that Ben did remember what he did when he was drunk, and Poe couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
So, clearly, the only thing to do was avoid Rey. Which meant, unfortunately, skipping the usual friend-group outings; but since those often involved bars and the mere thought of alcohol was revolting at the moment, there was a certain advantage.
As a strategy, it probably wouldn’t work long-term, but Ben was determined to stretch it out as long as he could. His very public humiliation would gradually fade in the minds of others, and surely Rey would grow bored with trying to corner him.
She doesn’t need to let me down gently. I already know what she’s going to say.
She didn’t have to rub it in.
If he could just keep out of Rey’s sights for a couple of months, he could nurse his broken heart in peace.
Well. If I want peace I have to kill Poe first. But that wasn’t an original thought either.
“You just need to talk to her, man,” Poe said one day, when it was just the two of them and a pile of tacos at their local pupuseria. “She won’t bite!”
“Shut up, Poe,” Ben said wearily. For the thousandth time.
Poe muttered something uncomplimentary, and stuffed half a taco in his mouth before excusing himself and heading for the restroom. Ben, whose appetite wasn’t really up to the food, fiddled with a wrapper and contemplated sneaking out before Poe got back.
His distraction was probably why he didn’t spot Rey until the wide flat box landed in front of him and a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder.
“Gotcha,” Rey said.
For a wild moment Ben considered leaping to his feet and fleeing. His legs were longer than hers, surely she couldn’t catch him?
The hand tightened, and he gave up the notion.
“What do you want?” Ben asked, his voice thin, unable to look at her.
“I want you to stop being a coward,” Rey said firmly. She was right there, right in his personal space, standing as if ready to chase him if necessary. “Ben - “
“You don’t have to say it,” he interrupted, hunching in on himself. “I know you don’t - that you could never - “
He choked on the words, and almost missed Rey’s sigh. She shoved the box closer with her free hand. “Open it.”
Ben thought about arguing, but it would just prolong the pain. He reached for the box, then stopped at the sight of the stylized pastry logo printed on the lid. “I...I don’t like doughnuts.”
“You’ll like these.” She flipped the lid open herself.
The contents made Ben’s jaw drop. An even dozen doughnuts lay within, some decorated, some merely frosted; but each one was in the shape of a letter.
DATE
ME U
IDIOT
Wait. What?
Ben stared and stared, his brain not believing what it read, but there was no mistaking the words formed in sugar and pastry. Slowly, he looked up at Rey.
Her cheeks were red again, but she looked...determined. Challenging. Incredibly gorgeous.
Incredibly dear.
His arms were long too. Ben put them out and pulled Rey down onto his lap, and found her mouth with his.
For their first date, he bought her tacos, as soon as they could stop kissing one another (and get rid of Poe, who was unbearably smug).
Ben still made her eat all the doughnuts herself.