A/N: yay first kylo fanfic sorry it's shit and short
Warnings: mentions of torture, idk what else
Word count: 790
You come to in a cell. Tied into a very classic Empire torture device. You strain, but you know that's not going to get you out, because you know who put you here. Ben. Or Kylo now, since that's what he calls himself. You vaguely remember him knocking you out on Takodana, where you'd been to visit Maz. You knew that Rey was there, and Kylo was hunting her, but that gave him no reason to take you too. You didn't even have your lightsaber, stars!
The door slides smoothly open and you glance over at him. Your heart pangs to see him like that, masked up, clouded with darkness. Your old classmate, your best friend, and now...
'Ben, or shall I say Kylo?' You ask.
'Ben is gone.'
'Ben is not gone,' you answer. 'But before we add that conversation to our list of old arguements, I'll let you know that I have no info on the map. So I have no idea why I'm here.' You pause, watching him watch you, and suddenly you want to know if he's changed, want to know if he still looks the same under that helmet. 'Can you do me a favour? Can I see your face? Please?'
Slowly, he takes off his helmet, and a wave of sorrow fills you as you see him, see the man he's become, see the war behind his eyes; the struggle. He looks just like you remember, but you can sense the darkness in him, see that it's changed him, but you can feel the light inside him struggling to win over the darkness, you can feel that he's still in there.
And then you feel him probing at your mind, the Kylo side of him, and you let him, because you want him to know you don't have any information on the Resistance or anything that they're planning to do. But he barely looks at that memory, and now you're struggling, struggling to get him out of your head as he digs deeper, opening places and thoughts you've locked away a long time ago, knowing that he's already too far in.
'No,' you gasp. 'Please, Ben, don't go there - '
'You missed me,' he says, a hint of surprise in his voice. 'You don't hate me for what I did.' He pauses. 'Oh, so that's how you escaped the temple.' You know he's dallying a little, waiting to see if you want him to delve further or not.
'Don't,' you beg. 'Don't. Please.'
You don't want to hear him say it. You want this to stop, you want him to leave you alone, leave your head alone, but you know he won't because he sees it now, sees it clearer than crystal, sees that you...
'You love me.'
You hang your head in defeat. You don't care about him knowing any of your secrets now. You stop struggling against him, just let the restraints of the platform you're tied onto hold you up as you nod. 'Yeah. I do.'
'Not loved,' he murmurs. 'Present. You love me now, like this?'
You look away, wishing he would leave. But then he hooks his fingers under your chin, lifting his face to his, and your eyes connect, your breath catching in your throat as you see the light grow stronger in his eyes as he looks at you. You see him, the side you know, Ben, and you're overwhelmed with memories of you and him, you and him, laughing, dueling, seeing who could lift the biggest thing with the Force, pranking Luke, and you feel your eyes brim with tears.
'Ben,' you sob. 'Ben, I - '
He leans forward, until your foreheads are touching, gently brushing his fingertips over your cheek, then hooking a strand of your hair over your ear. 'I know,' he murmurs. 'I know.'
And then he kisses you. He's rough, at first, desperate, hands roaming up and down you sides as you arch towards him, straining against your bonds, wishing nothing more than to hold him in your arms. He pulls away, keeping his face close to yours, lets you feel his warm breath on your lips for just a second before he dips his head and kisses you again, gentle, soft, and you gasp, fingers knotting into his soft black hair.
You both notice at the same time, both glancing down to see your restraints, the metal bent open, the cloth ripped apart. Ben chuckles, and you grin back at him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in his chest, basking in his presence.
'I love you,' you mumble into the black cloth of his shirt, not expecting a response, but he replies, his voice soft.
'I love you too.'