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Rey was fuming.
She was having what was undoubtedly the shittest day ever.
Her foster parent, Maz, was sick; Rey had to work an extra shift at the garage, not to mention how her chemistry class was going.
This prick, who was unfortunately her lab partner, had the audacity to tell Rey that she was incorrectly following directions for attention.
She most emphatically was not, and Rey’s temper was fuelled with every snide comment he jeered loudly, seemingly pleased when his redheaded cronie sniggered.
Professor Skywalker just looked equally exasperated with his shit. Rey felt him on a deep emotional level. Kylo Ren tended to have that effect on people.
Because that’s what this dick called himself. Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren.
What kind of pretentious arsehole, Rey thought angrily, flipping her way through the textbook, gives themselves a fake name for the hell of it? It’s not like he didn’t have a perfectly lovely name on it’s own. Ben Solo is a perfectly fine name.
(If anyone were ever to ask, Rey totally didn’t cover her notebooks with his name not more than three semesters ago. It was a confusing time in her life. It still is.)
Honestly, Rey just wanted to get through this period so she could get back to the workshop, hidden away from all her problems and tinker through all the scrap metal she could ask for. She wanted to get far away from Kylo Ren and his fluffy hair and shitty personality.
One of the worst parts, Rey mused, was that he couldn’t even get in trouble. Not out of any affection from his teachers, because they all thought him to be just as intolerable, but because his mother was Principal fucking Organa. In her eyes, he could do nothing wrong, despite managing to land his father in the hospital for months.
(His father, Han, was fine. Just, you know, a heart attack. No big deal.)
“You know, Scavenger,” he said smarmy as always, “I can practically hear your antagonistic thoughts.”
Rey’s eye twitched at the derogatory nickname, and, before she could think better of it, lobbed the textbook in her hands at the dick.
She snarled, “Hear this, shithead,” as the book hit him with a resounding thump.
Never before has a sound ever felt right to Rey.
That was until Professor Skywalker looked up and called out, “Detention with me, both of you.”
Rey and Kylo winced at the same time. Detention with Skywalker felt like moving rocks with your mind: exhausting emotionally and wanting to throw something at the older man.
“Do we have to?” Kylo whined, and she sent him a look that could kill, clearly stating shut the fuck up.
He looked appropriately scared and Rey felt extremely vindicated.
And then Professor Skywalker just had to open his mouth.
“Both of you. Detention,” he enunciated clearly so none of his words could be misconstrued, “This afternoon. Here. This is not optional, Ben.”
Kylo looked like he had just bit into an expired lime, but he kept quiet.
Rey sighed. Why did this have to be her life?
Kylo Ren, apparently, incessantly thrummed his fingers against his desk when he was nervous.
And why wouldn’t he be nervous? Kylo thought. He was spending the next two hours with the girl of his dreams, who apparently despised him.
This was, in a word, a complete bummer.
He was missing the space opera marathon that Hux had promised him after school, and Kylo really liked the villain, okay? He practically considered him family, which was particularly fitting, given that the bad guy’s name meant father in German.
Kylo’s mind returned to the seething brunette next to him and his heart skipped a beat.
Whether it was from fear or affection is completely up to you. He’d like to think it was a combination of the two.
Uncle Luke — sorry, Professor Skywalker — gave them both stern looks from where he was perched on the edge of his desk.
“I’m not unreasonable, you too,” he stared them both down. “Lenient, even. All I’m asking is that you both apologize to each other and then you can both be on your merry way to do god-knows-what. What do kids do nowadays? Birds? The Facebook? Premarital intercourse?”
Rey’s face blanched and Kylo’s turned to stone, and not because of Skywalker’s ineptitude regarding social media.
But apologize? Kylo? What the fuck did he do wrong? This is all Rey’s fault.
Speaking of, a voice chimed out.
“Sorry, Professor,” Rey’s voice was forced and breezy. “No can do. I’d rather jump into a volcano than apologize to that monster.”
Skywalker raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her until she caved and heaved out, “Fine,” like it physically pained her to be nice. She turned to the man next to her and looked him straight in the eyes. It was unnerving and, fuck, he was so into her.
“I’m sorry that I rightfully threw my textbook at you. I’ll try not to do it in the future,” she droned on monotonously, clearly not meaning a single word, and their teacher could tell.
Kylo nodded and replied, “Sorry for whatever it was I did to provoke you.”
All the fight in girl next to him goes out when she glances at the clock, and, honestly, Kylo’s really concerned now.
Professor Skywalker notices the abrupt change in the atmosphere and left the room, with only a vague "Understanding is the key to success," and Rey rolls her eyes before sighing.
“Are you... okay?” He attempts to be civil and she shoots daggers at him before shaking her head, surprising herself.
She inhales shakily before replying, “It’s just been a really shite day.”
He nods and prods her to continue.
“Maz is sick and I have shifts to make up at work and I just wanted to get through the day without anything special happening, yet here I am in detention with you. You, of all people!”
Kylo feels vaguely offended and almost misses what she says next.
Almost.
“You, Kylo fucking Ren, who looks really good in that jacket, you prick, and you have nice hair and a misogynistic streak a mile wide! Your voice makes me want to do unspeakable things to you but I also want to rip your throat out and—” she caught herself.
What.
“You only heard the last part of that, right?” Rey asks, eyes wild.
Kylo’s eyes have probably exited his skull at this point, and he swallowed.
“Um.”
Rey’s head fell into her hands and she groaned in embarrassment.
“Fuck you,” she added as an afterthought, and who was Kylo to pass up this opportunity?
“Yeah, apparently you want to,” he said without thinking of any repercussions, and Rey’s head snapped up so fast she could’ve sworn she heard something twist.
Kylo felt very small all of a sudden, and he tried to extend an olive branch.
“Ben,” he said, fighting a wave of self-loathing. “My name. It’s Ben.”
Rey looked confused but still tense when she replied, “I’m aware of that.”
Ben’s face (and neck and ears and his entire body probably) felt like it was on fire. Right. Of course. What was he thinking?
"Please don't kill me?" He asked half-heartedly, but still fearing for his life.
Her head tilted to the side, laughing a little bit, and then she was saying it, the small word feeling so heavy in her mouth.
“Ben,” she said with finality and a rush swept through Kylo.
His voice was unsteady when he asked, “I really, really want to kiss you but your consent is important, and I understand if you despise me for whatever reasons—”
And, suddenly, his voice was muffled by her mouth.
She looked at him when she pulled back for air, an indecipherable emotion in her eyes, when she repeated, “Ben,” and he couldn’t fight the shiver running down his spine.
When Rey saw the effect the word had on him, she said it over and over again.
Ben felt like a live wire, a bomb on the verge of going off.
“Rey,” he said brokenly, “I really like you.”
She smiled, lazy and fierce and deadly and beautiful.
“I fucking hate you,” Rey replied, before swooping in for another kiss, the real meaning pressing from her lips to his.
(20 minutes later, they expressed all their beef towards each other and discussed consent and limits and preferred pet names.)
Their relationship didn’t make an awful lot of sense to outsiders. Rey and Ben were constantly sniping at each other and always at each other’s throats. He would call her scavenger scum and she would reply with monster.
Hux was convinced this was some sort of weird heterosexual foreplay. Phasma agreed that it was completely absurd. Finn was worried that the relationship was unhealthy until he had seen the two by themselves.
Ben was holding her hand like she was the most precious being ever to grace the galaxy and she looked at him like Finn looked at Poe. Admiration and longing and love—
Finn ran out of the room, a confused smile on his face and a mission in his heart.
They fought constantly until Skywalker, of all people, introduced them to fencing. It was a much better way to fight out their problems. This way, Rey was the only one who knew that the bruises on Kylo’s body wasn’t from a misplaced parry, but from her lips.
It worked for them, and that was more than enough.
Opposites attract, after all.
fin