Chapter Text
It was just before 6:00 p.m. when Ben stepped through his apartment door, shaking off the last dregs of tension from the workweek. He had been at his new job for a few weeks now, and, for the most part, it was going better than he’d hoped.
After consulting with his new bosses and an incredibly overpriced PR/crisis management firm, Ben had ended up releasing a statement upon his exit from the Snoke administration. At Ben’s insistence, the statement had really been more of a public apology. But it had also outlined what he considered to be the detestable policies and practices that had made it impossible for his association with Snoke to continue.
At first, the public had not been kind. Accusations like “complicit” and “opportunist” had been bandied about in the media. And, frankly, Ben agreed with them. He had willingly participated in Snoke’s corrupt machine for the past five years. It was also true that Ben had been relatively young, vulnerable, and desperate at the time Snoke recruited him, but that hardly excused five years of his support and participation.
Snoke’s absolutely vicious counter-attack was the only thing that had saved Ben from a drawn-out public reckoning. Snoke’s responses to Ben’s accusations had been so obviously untrue, his attacks on Ben had been so bitterly personal, that public opinion had shifted against the older man.
Ben had been surprised. He had never known Snoke to be anything but composed and articulate in public. Ben’s betrayal must have really shaken the man for him to be so publicly angry and agitated.
And the anti-Snoke wave had continued right until Election Day. Mayor-elect Amilyn Holdo’s victory speech line about “letting people learn and grow and change their minds,” had been an undeserved kindness toward Ben. So had the Edible Arrangement sent to him from his mother’s Senate office the day after the election, with a note simply reading, “Welcome back to the light side. Call me.”
Ben hadn’t called her just yet. Just because he wasn’t supporting the Snokes of the world anymore, didn’t mean he was ready to embrace his family’s radical politics. But he would call her… eventually.
Despite narrowly avoiding his reputational public execution, Ben still had a lot of atoning to do. The public might have lost interest in judging the authenticity of his change of heart, but Ben still needed to convince himself that he was worthy of all the good that had come into his life recently. Lying low in his new, modest private sector job wasn’t enough. Ben needed to find a way to correct the wrongs he had helped propagate.
He really needed to call his mother. She probably had an extensive list of all the ways he could make things up to her and to humanity.
Coming out of his reverie, Ben looked around his apartment and took in all the subtle changes that had been made recently. Less tidy, more lived in, Ben thought happily.
Right beside the front door, next to the bowl meant for his unopened mail and discarded keys, sat his black tourmaline crystal. “To block negative energy from even entering,” Rey had told him confidently.
Ben would never admit it but, when Rey had first suggested relocating his black tourmaline to his front entrance, he had worried that by not carrying it around with him all the time, he would lose the tenuous grasp he had finally gotten on his rages and tantrums.
So he had surreptitiously purchased the obsidian stones in bulk and placed them strategically on his desk at work, in the center console of his car, in various pockets, and in his briefcase. He found himself constantly rubbing them, like worry stones.
Of course, he insisted to Rey that their anti-negative energy powers were bunk. But her amused, knowing look gave him the uncomfortable feeling that she had discovered at least a portion of his stash.
Elsewhere in the room, Rey had put her TaskRabbit skills to good use and helped him hang a set of floating shelves and assemble a bookcase. On the bookcase, she had placed a few Astrology guides and crystal texts. They now sat side-by-side with Ben’s preferred political biographies and history books. It was amazing how much time he had to read, now that he was working a regular 9 to 5.
On one of his shelves, he had a Himalayan salt lamp and clear crystal quartz. Ben wasn’t exactly sure what they were meant to accomplish, but Rey had assured him they were a potent (and positive) combination.
Ben also had a small collection of recently acquired house plants. Philodendron, pathos, and rubber plant were all spread throughout the room. And all still alive, he thought with a tinge of pride. Upon reflection, though, Ben had to acknowledge that his thriving greenery had more to do with Rey’s frequent visits than anything he had done for them. He honestly couldn’t remember if he had ever even watered one.
“There have been studies,” Rey had told him one night as they’d lay together in his bed. She was nestled against his bare chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her tall but delicate frame. “Houseplants improve well-being, lower anxiety, and brighten up a space.”
“Hmm,” he’d hummed simply in response.
“I’d probably come over more,” she told him, and that caught his attention. “Cancer signs have high naturalistic intelligence. It’s part of our nurturing natures. We love animals and plants, and have a real knack for caring for them. We like to be surrounded with the natural world.”
Ben thought of Rey’s tiny shared apartment. Every available surface was covered in planters and pots. Rey even had random greenery growing out of chipped mugs and styrofoam cups.
“I suppose you could get a cat or dog to keep me here.” Ben snorted and Rey continued, “-but plants seem easier.”
The next day, Ben had gone out and bought five “unkillable” houseplants, according to the man at the garden store. Rey’s smile when she had seen them had made Ben’s chest clench painfully. He loved the pain.
Ben’s favorite change, however, wasn’t the crystals or the plants or even the furniture. It was the green toothbrush that now lived by his bathroom sink (near a blue calcite crystal). The same one from their first night together. Ben thought happily that he would need to replace it soon as he and Rey were approaching three months of sleepovers and dinners and Netflix and chill.
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Later that same evening, as Ben put the final touches on a pineapple curry, he heard a quick knock and the sound of his front door opening. He looked up and, thanks to his apartment’s open floor plan, saw Rey entering.
“Smells good,” she told him excitedly, her stomach growling loudly in agreement.
“Have you eaten anything today?” he asked accusingly.
“Of course. I went to the opening social for the slacklining club in the quad today. Snagged a slice of pepperoni.”
Ben raised his eyebrow at her. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a slackline enthusiast.”
“Are you suggesting that my interest in their club wasn’t genuine?” she asked with mock offense. “Okay, fine. You caught me. I used the Lunchbox app.” This time, Rey didn’t even wait for Ben to ask her before she explained, “It shows you the location of all the free food on campus.”
Ben laughed. Rey wandered over and he pulled her to him, kissing her firmly. Eventually, he broke away and said, “Well, come get some curry. It’s even better than free pizza. It’s full of vegetables.” Rey made a face. “You’re welcome for being the only thing standing between you and scurvy,” Ben told her sternly.
“You’ve been cooking a lot lately,” she observed, eyes full of equal parts suspicion and curiosity. “What happened to Postmates? You’re not single-handedly trying to topple the gig economy so I’ll spend more time with you, are you?” she asked teasingly.
“Oh, damn. You’ve discovered my masterplan,” he replied. “I’ve always liked to cook,” he continued, more seriously. “I just didn’t really have time until this new job.”
“I’m glad,” she said, a genuine smile on her face. “I’ll have to get you some red tiger eye for the kitchen. It will encourage culinary creativity.”
Ben rolled his eyes dramatically, but it was just performative. He actually really appreciated all of Rey’s New Age trinkets. If nothing else, they reminded him that she was part of his life and clearly cared for him.
They ate together, alternating companionable silence with pleasant conversation. Ben couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content.
Although Ben had suddenly found himself with an unusual quantity of spare time, Rey was still busy most nights of the week. Between classes, studying, and her numerous side hustles, Ben only saw her in fits and bursts. And those fits and bursts were usually limited to sex, food, and Netflix.
As they finished their dinner, Rey said, “Hey, Ben, uh… I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Ben looked up at her. She was looking down at her bowl, absently fiddling with her spoon. His contentment was abruptly replaced with nerves. “What about?” he finally forced out, valiantly attempting nonchalance.
“Um, I was just thinking… uh… um, what is this? What are we?”
“What do you mean?”
“I was just wondering… we’ve been sleeping together for quite a few weeks now…”
“Sleeping together? That’s all?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “I mean, I don’t know… what else would you call it?”
“Dating,” Ben replied, genuinely hurt by her casual characterization. Falling in love, he thought wistfully, but he wasn’t ready to say that aloud yet. He wished the pain in his voice was less obvious.
“Well, that’s the thing, Ben. We can’t be dating because we’ve never actually been on a date… you’ve never asked me on a date.” She looked up at him, then.
Ben met her gaze, shocked by her words. “What?!”
“I mean, sure, you’ve paid for my dinner… a lot… but you’ve never actually said the words ‘Rey, can I take you out on Friday night?’ or ‘Rey, would like like to go to the symphony with me?’”
“You want to go to the symphony?” Ben asked, surprised.
“Well, no. Not particularly. It’s just an example.” She looked down again, cheeks heating up with blush. “The closest you’ve ever gotten was the observatory.”
“That was definitely a date,” he told her confidently, ignoring the several times he had explicitly characterized it as a non-date.
“Ben, you asked me to teach you about astrology.”
Now Ben was blushing. He had meant to ask her on a date that time but, at the last minute, he’d lost his nerve. Same with the donor event. The more Ben thought over the last few months of knowing Rey, the truer her words rang.
“Rey,” Ben began.
“Yes?” she replied, still looking down and with uncharacteristic hesitation. Ben considered Rey a force of nature. She rarely seemed unsure of herself in anything.
And now it’s all your fault she’s so skittish, he chastised himself, his old self-loathing rising. Ben pushed it back down. He could fix this.
Ben stayed silent until Rey was forced to look up at him. He put down his spoon and cleared his throat. He was resolved. Confident. “Rey,” he repeated her name. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow? That’s not very much notice,” she told him, barely suppressing a grin.
“Next Saturday, then?” Ben immediately amended.
“Tomorrow works.” Rey’s smile was radiant now. “Where are you taking me?”
“Dinner and a movie.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
They continued gazing at each other for several more seconds. “Ben,” Rey said finally, breaking their intensity.
“Yes?”
“Do you want to fool around now?”
“Yes, Rey.”
Rey stood from the table and walked, smirking, over to Ben. She grabbed his hand and led him to his bedroom, leaving the dirty dishes to be done another day.
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