Chapter Text
It was a night spent in bliss before the warm embrace of a peaceful dream relinquished her back into the living. The first thing Rey was aware of upon opening her eyes was that she was firmly tucked in the arms of her mate, who had yet to emerge from whatever dreamlike slumber he was in. Her nose, which had been burrowed into his neck, inhaled deeply. It was the pure forest that humans and their frivolities hadn’t sullied — she smiled, knowing he was dreaming good things too. Or, maybe nothing at all.
The events that transpired the night before were the second thing Rey remembered, which knocked most of the sleep out of her mind, how she’d unraveled at full force with the howl of a storm as the undercurrent. She could barely see over the massive broadness of his shoulders, but she made out a few rays of sunlight peeking through the blanket of clouds, reflecting off the morning dewdrops collecting on the windowpanes. Then, the memories of last night slammed into her hard enough to knock the wind out of her.
He knows. I told him everything, Rey thought frantically, at first shuddering with something like regret until her hindbrain slammed the insecurities away. It’ll be okay, it insisted, He won’t hurt you, he won’t use what was done against you. After all, it supplied in a devious and knowing tone, he shared himself with you, too.
For the first time since they met, after months of vagueness and armored walls, the rug was practically pulled out from under her when she listened to the fifth, sixth iteration of a story she’d memorized by now. But he’d compartmentalized everything into one singular unit of energy until it couldn’t hold anymore and simply burst. It was eerie, recognizing herself in the man she once believed she shared absolutely nothing in common with. She didn’t know what to think of that.
“It’s too early to work yourself up, little one,” a groggy voice mumbled. Heat rushed to Rey’s cheeks as she glanced at her mate, whose face was half-buried in the satin pillow. With his inky waves strewn in a mess over his eyes, she took the time to appreciate how unsuspecting he appeared.
It took longer than what should’ve been reasonable for it to register that she hadn’t fallen asleep in the bed the night before; instead, she’d used Kylo as a mattress atop the living room chaise. The thought that Kylo moved her in the night and redressed her in her favorite pair of pajamas made her blush, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers over his ears.
“I’m not working myself up,” she whispered softly, “I’m just thinking.”
“Mm.” His lips quirked, bringing out the dimples that she would get weak in the knees for. He still hadn’t opened his eyes. “You think too loud.”
As if she’d never heard that before. Finn used to say she wore her emotions on her sleeve. “That makes two of us.” Her voice was a gentle murmur, fingers rubbing the stubble under his chin and lip. It was one of Kylo’s many contradictions that she found fascinating: the difference between Kylo and Ben, two identities who had nothing in common beyond residing in the same man. She wanted to learn more about the latter.
Finally, Kylo’s eyes fluttered open, making Rey’s heart skip once as those hypnotic green-flecked caramel eyes beamed a large ray of heat through her. His gaze was longing and resigned affection, and it warmed her.
“Very few people would agree with you.” It was said almost with amusement. He propped his head on his arm, watching her absentmindedly play with the thin ribbon of hair over his lip.
“Maybe.” Rey looks up at him. “Because very few people only know Kylo, not Ben.”
In an instant, the dark hue of his eyes completely consumed all the other colors, and he growled in displeasure. She flinched at how fast his defenses went up but rubbed the gland on his neck to calm him in the same soothing way he always did with her whenever she was distressed.
“You hate that name,” she murmured, remembering the barely perceptible amount of vitriol she’d tasted whenever someone else was brave enough to utter the name in his presence. “But you let me call you that. Why?”
It was a question that deeply confounded her the more she thought about it. She watched as Kylo’s expressive eyes bloomed in a matcha coffee blend, and it was then one of his fingers moved from her shoulder to the gland on her wrist. He leaned over and nuzzled her cheek.
“It sounds right coming from you.” It was as simple as that. Rey waited a moment for him to continue, but he didn’t, as he licked her next gland before leaving a kiss on the spot. Her breath hitched, but she cocked her head to the side, perplexed.
“How did it sound before?” Coming from your family?
A shadow ghosted Kylo’s brow. “Like a fuckin’ curse.”
The mild venom in his voice made her flinch, and she latched onto the comforting edge of his scent that hadn’t dissipated. She naturally wanted to ask why he believed this, but her gut urged her not to hike through that minefield so soon. Not while they were still picking up pieces from the previous storm.
“Well, I like it,” Rey declared firmly. “I think it suits you.” Her fingers combed through his soft locks. No man should have the right to look, sound, and smell like sin incarnate, a very traitorous part of her brain supplied.
Kylo’s cheeks pinked, and she would’ve giggled at how boyish he appeared.
“When Padmé first called you Ben, I was confused,” she admitted. “I thought she messed up your name. Then she told me what your real name was.”
“I suspected as much.” Nothing but affection, if not just a tad annoyed. “Kylo Ren is my legal name. I had it changed when I was twenty years old.”
Rey’s lips moved before her brain could process. “Why?”
Silence fell over the duo. Kylo seemed to take an interest in her freckles, and she leaned into his hand as he stroked her face. His smile was rueful. “Story for another time, little one. Too early to get into all that, when we haven’t had our coffee.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I think we’ve spent too much time yelling, cursing, and wallowing?”
Rey nodded eagerly, happy that maybe things would be different moving forward. “Can we spar?”
“Absolutely not.” Kylo didn’t even hesitate, and he pulled down her left sleeve. Her flesh had nearly finished healing, leaving a sliver of raised skin. The stitches were at the point where they needed to be removed soon. “Not for another four weeks. And don’t think I don’t know about your secret visits to the downstairs gym.” He put a finger to her lips as she prepared to object, “You stubborn Omega.”
She shrugged. “I don’t do well with boredom.”
“I know.” Kylo grinned, gold flecks twinkling in his irises.
“And if I’m stubborn, what are you?” she challenged, a playful lit to her brow.
The Alpha gave her a toothy smile that spoke of the desire swelling through him. “Dominant.”
“Oh!” She lightly slapped him on the shoulder, and his rich, genuine laugh was oily balm over her muscles. “You’re incorrigible!”
“Maybe.” Kylo kissed her again and climbed out of bed. Rey shook her head in amusement.
When Rey came downstairs, coquettishly dressed in one of Kylo’s shirts that was large enough to fit two of her inside, the house smelled like the inside of an expensive Nabooian cafe one would find in Theed.
Her Alpha — who she’d realized looked ridiculously attractive in a white, tight-fitting wife-beater top — was standing over the stove cooking eggs, sausage, and at least four other things to high heaven. The mental picture went straight to the back of her head, and her cunt clenched painfully.
Rey dug her nails into her arm as naked desire shot up her stomach — she was positive she would’ve made a very embarrassing noise had she not dumped a bottle of water down her throat at the last second. Get yourself together!!
“It smells amazing,” Rey forced out as a broadcast to her entering the kitchen.
“Thanks.” Thankfully, he was too busy to pay attention to her slip of the tongue or notice the hungry expression on Rey’s face. She didn’t know which thing she was more hungry for: the eggs, or the six-foot-four piece of man meat that seemed suddenly more appetizing than usual.
She leaned over his shoulder to see a rainbow of vegetables and meat he was mixing into what appeared to be a massive omelet but resembled a pie.
“Who taught you how to cook like this?” It was something that had taken her aback when she first met him. Culinary extraordinaire didn’t fit her profile of the monstrous Alpha syndicate boss, and she almost died in her chair when he made her an Ansalan crab dish that would’ve humbled the most elitist of food critics.
“My Nana.” He smiled at her. “It was one of the things we did together when I visited her as a boy. Besides, I was on my own most of the time and didn’t like microwaved food as much as I should’ve.” It was meant to be said with humor but had that edge to his voice that appeared whenever he discussed his childhood, and Rey pursed her lips.
“Why do you hate your parents so much?” she asked.
His muscles clenched under her fingers, and she instinctively stepped back.
“You ask a lot of questions, Omega.”
“Perhaps, but I think I’ve earned that right, don’t you think?” Rey put her hands on her hips, on the defensive. “After everything, I have nothing sacred anymore, but I don’t know a lot about you, Ben.”
That wasn’t entirely true, on both parts, but Rey had no intention of bringing her federal deception and snooping into the mix right now.
“I’m sure you’ve heard plenty from everyone else,” he responded dismissively. A timer went off, and he glanced her way, “Can you pull the potatoes out of the oven?”
Rey ground her jaw, grabbing the gloves from the countertop, and opening the door. She was greeted by a blast of heat that made her eyes water, followed by rich spices that made them roll back in her head. “Regardless, I want to hear it from you.” Last night was the first time she’d heard anything from his mouth. “Secondhand accounts are different from the source. I want to hear your side.”
He huffed. “You would be the first.” The bitterness in his voice could be tasted across the room.
Rey paused, remembering the myriad of conflicting accounts from Leia, Padmé, Hux, Rose… any perspectives prone to be altered by their biases, whichever mask her Alpha wore — Kylo, Ben — or what he’d shared or what they’d learned through the grapevine. Here, she’d listened to words like “ashamed,” “trapped,” “miserable,” and “self-loathing,” which had made her squirm because they didn’t fit the narrative she had carefully crafted and clung to. Because they were ominously similar to how she’d felt for years and years as an Omega.
Back in Scarif, Rey had taken Leia’s reprimands and somber admissions about Kylo as confirmation of him being a monster. With all the grace and charisma as one would be if playing a concerned, resigned mother, Leia shared words like “troubled,” “disobedient,” “temperamental,” and “aggressive.” In conjunction with Rey’s existing fear of Alphas only made her assume the worst.
Because it had never occurred to her to ask the why. Why did she need to know his motives? She knew everything she needed to know about him. He was an animal, had been an animal, and would always be an animal.
Except that wasn’t true. Why was Kylo that way? Why was he angry, why was he aggressive, why did he seem determined to punish himself constantly?
And Rey didn’t get answers until he brought her back to Ilum, and she was weeks deep into house arrest. Kylo refused to talk to her about anything of substance, electing to cut her out of it entirely. Until that late night in Ilum, when Rey had stood stunned as Kylo casually brushed off the bruises and open wounds when it clearly pained him that she had seen the evidence of bloodshed and been dragged back to the horror stories of her time in Jakku.
It was no wonder he was what Hux called a “walking fuse.”
“That doesn’t change anything,” Rey declared. She was tired of hearing him deflect, and yes, she was aware of the hypocrisy on her part, given she’d spent months deflecting back in Ilum. But no. He’d pushed her into surrendering to her instincts, and it took time for her to accept that it didn’t make her feel as awful as she’d imagined. Now, it was her turn to push him. “I want to hear you .”
It was rare to see an Alpha rendered speechless. He straightened, the movement making his muscles move against his form-fitting shirt. Rey put the potatoes on the counter, resisting the overwhelming urge to stick her thumb into the pan.
“You won’t like what you hear,” he eventually said.
“How about I be the judge of that instead of you deciding things for me?” Rey’s eyes flashed; they’d gone over this last night. Alphas really are the most thick-headed, she thought.
Kylo forcefully put the spatula down and turned. “Rey, I—”
It was at that moment he realized she was wearing his shirt, long enough to conceal the shorts that hugged the curve of her ass a little too much, showing off her long, tan legs. He made a sound like a strangled chicken, and Rey pretended she wasn’t a little smug about catching him off guard. Every night and most mornings, she had to change her underwear because watching a live Michaelangelo statue in tight tanks was an easy way to get wet. Humiliatingly so.
“Honestly,” she continued, sounding undisturbed, “I thought we would keep things open moving forward.” She didn’t want a repeat of last night. Too many things were said, and it was too explosive to be considered helpful.
Kylo seemed unable to form words; he kept staring at her with a dumbstruck expression on his face. “Is that my shirt?” She’d never heard him sound so strained before.
“It was. I’m keeping it.” Rey rolled the oversized sleeves up, adding, “It’s the softest thing I’ve ever touched.” She retrieved the plates and cutlery, pointedly ignoring the ravenousness clawing through Kylo’s scent. His Adam’s apple bobbed at least three times, and the way the muscles in his cheeks twitched, it was clear he was doing his best to swallow every instinct he had to throw her over his shoulder, take her back upstairs and fuck her into a coma. The smell of his arousal was filling the room rapidly.
“But as I was saying,” she continued, putting the plates down, “you said you would be honest . No omissions, no”
Suddenly, she was pulled against a hard torso, his erection pressed hard into the crack between her ass cheeks, shutting her up immediately. Her cheeks burned, her cunt clenched again… this time that she felt slick gushing into her shorts. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t wearing underwear, and she moaned at the sensation of it trickling down her leg.
“That’s what you get for being a tease, Omega,” his dark voice purred smugly, making her shiver.
“I’m not — This isn’t teasing…” It sounded like a lie even to her own ears, and she futilely pushed against his arms. He had caged her against him, and there was no way for her to squirm out.
“Oh? What was it then? I know you weren’t wearing this when I left you.” Rey could hear the size of his smug grin in his voice, and she rolled her eyes.
“It’s called…” He was working his hands down the front of her stomach, near her sex, as the tent in his pants hardened. Damn it. “Comfort,” she stuttered, “and…” She worked her way around so she was facing him. He still hadn’t let her go. “Payback.”
“For what?” He was still smirking.
“Well…” Rey fumbled for words, knowing that whatever reply she came up with would destroy the last of her dignity. She groaned and muttered, “Looking like… this.” She gestured to his physique, very conscious of the fact that the venules in his forearms were on full display.
Maker, above…
“How do I look, little one?” He was genuinely teasing her now, leaning closer to her face. “Tell me.”
“Like a statue that belongs in an art museum,” Rey replied unabashedly, which pulled a laugh out of him. “Seriously.” She ran her hands over his pecs, abs, and biceps. “How did you get all this? A dozen eggs and an entire Niutian chicken per day?”
“That and lifting.” He shrugged nonchalantly, and Rey’s jaw hit the floor. But he smiled a secret smile. “What? You haven’t complained, little Omega.” He bent over and nuzzled her gland. Rey chuckled softly. No, she didn’t, and she was tempted to make a crack about his “old age” and “keeping up” until she remembered the sticky substance on her legs.
“Do you have any idea how it makes me feel, seeing you wearing my clothes?” He was practically burying his nose into her neck, inhaling as you would a line of spice. “You wearing my scent… proves that you’re mine.”
Rey found that the rough possessiveness didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would, and she was unsure how to digest that. They were soulmates; he was an Alpha, she was an Omega, and by all accounts, she belonged to him until the end of time. How could something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?
“That aside.” The tone of her voice changed, and it was enough to break Kylo’s haze. He pulled back, and his expression sobered. “I meant what I said. I want to hear it all from you.” She slid her hand to his shoulder, supplicating a plea in her gaze. “Please. You owe me that much.”
Kylo observed her for a half minute, gaze not leaving hers once. She marveled at the number of hues his eyes could change in such a short time, listing all of earth’s colors from the grass, honey, fossilized amber, the rich soil… she loved his eyes.
He tucked her head under his chin, stroking her hair before whispering, “Alright,” into her ear. A small smile broke across Rey’s lips.
They would’ve likely stayed standing there if not for the smell of the eggs burning on the stove. Kylo muttered a curse in Huttese, and Rey giggled at his expense, bursting into laughter when he used the edge of his fork to pull the omelet out of the pan, the bottom a crispy black. He glared at her impertinence and glanced at her legs, undoubtedly preparing to make another cheeky comment.
Rey was out the door and halfway up the stairs before he could say anything, chased out by his laughter.