Chapter Text

30th of June

Shit.

Opening his eyes was hard given the massive hangover hitting with the strength of thousand bricks at once. Both sides of his head were pounding like speakers at a rave party that had absolutely no intention on turning down the volume and allow him to think. It was understandable to a degree. Back home in Maine, they didn’t drink vodka as if their life depends on it. Not that there were any memories of what he drank or as a matter fact how he got home.

For starters, Ben wasn’t even at home.

The room was considerably smaller than his giant master bedroom in the house, shared with Poe and Rose in the outskirts of the city where it was a lot less…messy for lack of better words. This room was, as a matter of fact, an attic. The bed, missing integral parts like a whole bed frame was just a mattress on the floor, with white covers and thousands of pillows of all shapes, sizes and materials surrounding it from the sides. The ceiling was angular therefor Ben’s giant body had to be extra careful of the way it got up if he didn’t want to end with a concussion on top of the hangover.

His mind had been in such a scrambled egg state that he didn’t consider whose home he was currently in, why was he in their bed or register the fact he was completely naked.

A soft groan echoed through the room putting him in the narrative of the situation assigning him a leading role in it.

“Shit, my head!” the voice coming from the right side of the bed was hoarse, not the gentlest of tunes, yet familiar in a way Ben couldn’t really recognize right now. Whoever had just wakened up must be as fucked up as he was.

Ben rubbed his palms across his face in hopes of awakening up or at least lower the pain or the pounding. Neither happened.

“What the fuck are you doing here!”

The shout pierced through the walls, hitting Ben in the back of the head increasing the rate of the already unbearable pounding.

It was like a slap in the face. In the matter of milliseconds, Ben was fully functioning again, had reached into his hippocampus and extorted information needed to assign ownership over the voice and oh, shit if it wasn’t the literal last person he wanted to hear from right now.

The last part wasn’t necessarily true. It was more the headache speaking.

“You…No! No, no, no, no…Oh, god, please no.” she repeated in a state of shock as if it was a spell that would make him disappear having been said enough times.

Turning to look at her annoyingly pretty face, he was met with the cute sight of her short curly hair pocking in all directions, frizzy as hell. At least she slept damn well it seemed.

Rey Dri-, he didn’t remember he full last name, it was too complicated for his hungover brain to comprehend or make the effort of composing it in its entirety, was sitting up on the bed, covering the upper half of her chest with the white blanket. So they were both naked. Great. That explained at least fifty percent of the missing seven to ten hours.

“What are you doing in my bed?” she snarled, trying to hold onto the white material with one hand while the other had been hysterically trying to fix her hair.

“What do I do in your bed?! I don’t even know this was your room until your scream made it clear. And obviously we fucked.” Clearly.

“Nooo…I won’t fuck you even if my life depends on it.” She made a childishly disgusted face, her eastern accent popping out in anger. It was cute.

The feeling of superiority bubbled in Ben’s chest as the queen of comebacks had finally been cornered. Whenever they butt heads on a table, in a group class or a house party, god help whoever invited them both at it, she always insisted on getting the last word. Ben would usually just let her

“I bet if I try to remember hard enough I’ll reach the conclusion you’ve been well thoroughly satisfied with my performance.” He offered her a sarcastic smile answered with widely opened chocolate eyes and a pop of a highly tensed jaw on her part.

“Get. Out. Of. My. House.” Her voice was panicked.

So Rey remembered as much as he did, meaning nothing.

Ben just shrugged, the will to argue with her right now absolutely non-existent. Getting off the bed, the blanket provided no visual protection for Rey to keep her composure. He was indeed as naked as it got. His body was something any man would be proud of – broad, toned, tall, not to brag but his genes gave him a fairly good size on other fronts so the fact Rey was as reluctant to accept the events that had taken place as she was, really was not his problem. On the other hand, they really did fuck, huh? Made him wonder how it was, was it worth it at all facing the consequence this morning?

Their clothes were scrambled all over the floor, an endless mess of his black pants, her pixie ruffled lime green dress with red flowers, both in one corner, his silk beige shirt on the far end of the room, her bralette next to her side of the bed. Other small items like her hair clips and his watch for some reason were on the bed in a dip where Rey had been sitting. The main culprit of the show however - his boxers, were nowhere to be seen.

“God, damn it! Put something on!” she screeched like a virgin seeing a dick for the very first time, the blanket flying over her eyes.

“I am trying to find my underwear Rey.” the response was calm, collected, his hand running through his hair, continuously messing up the loose waves uncomfortably decreasing his vision, trying to scan the room for the sacred piece of clothing. “If by any chance you remember where it is, please inform me so that I can end this misery. This is just as embarrassing for me as it is for you.”

There. At the chair in front of the desk, the black Calvin’s were hanging loosely awaiting their owner to claim them after his apparent conquest. With a step and reach of hand (the room was pretty small, everything was one hand away essentially) Ben Solo’s pride was no longer in Rey’s face but truly he didn’t find it in himself to allow her the pleasure of knowing that. She looked good like this. Under the blanket where he couldn’t see her at all.

That was a lie he couldn’t admit to himself. Rey was pretty. Really pretty in fact.

“It’s not embarrassing. It’s downright pathetic how could I settle for your nerdy, ugly ass even for a one-night stand.” Her voice was muffled from down under.

Scratch that, she’s a little fucking gremlin.

“Auch.” His hand found his heart in a wounded mock of her words. “I thought we’ve grown quite close to resolve in insulting each other like that.” This should do it, trigger her pretty little brain. For the one year, he had known Rey she had been a menace to him in every single sense of the word. The biggest issue at hand was the approximate distance between hate and love psychologically was known to be small, the boundaries of it – blurred.

If he had to judge the situation at first glance, both of them had overstepped this boundary towards a place there is no coming back from.

Not that he minded.

“Listen here…!” her hands yanked down the blanket revealing her naked torso. Her small tits bounced with each venomous curse that came out of her peachy lips. Ben felt himself getting harder at the sight.

He may hate her guts, her ideals, her ideas as well, but fuck that if she wasn’t sexy as hell like that in her own bed, naked, probably because of him, almost certainly.

Suddenly, he wished he could remember how it must have felt to be inside her. Was she tight, did she scream out his name…did they kiss? The questions pilled in his head, a big mark was put on each of them – “Can’t remember”, “can’t remember”, unironically “can’t remember”. Never vodka with rakija again…never.

She seemed to have calmed down from cursing each and every last cell in his body, at some point switching to her native language which always sounded like she was putting a spell on his whole family for a century.

Feeling the undeniable invitation to counter-act each of her curses he opted for a more civil way of handling her little ass (he had already handled that front).

“First of all, I really enjoy your fairly non-existent boobs bouncing in my face but like if you want me to come over there and give you a time you will do remember, please just say so and don’t tempt me with naked skin. Second of all, I suggest for the sake of our dignity, not to tell our friends of the situation we found ourselves in under the influence of hard alcohol and three, let’s make it a deal not to meet in a club again.”

Alongside the shortlist of things, he had to say in response to Rey’s very mature handling of the fact they fucked, Ben had been collecting his stuff – his watch, phone and wallet, getting dressed in between breaths. By the time he was done Rey had put on a pretty short purple kimono, holding the door wide open for him to leave. That truly was one damn hot kimono, the knowledge she was naked underneath made him lose his train of thought once again. The white knuckles, holding onto the doorknob, however, didn’t exhale a welcoming enough feeling for him to entertain the idea of staying much longer.

She was kicking him out without a second of a doubt. It honestly hurt a little, yet not so much that there would be a willingness to admit to it.

Had Ben truly been so bad to Rey that even in such a moment there was no tenderness of any sort in her hazelnut honey eyes? Only detectable were the anger, frustration and embarrassment.

The stairs towards the second and first floor of the student dorm were brightly lit by the sun coming out of the attic window. It was quiet. All of the other tenants had gone home for the summer.

Just as she was about to hit the door in his face, Rey’s eyes twitched. For a fraction of a moment, Ben could have sworn hurt took over her features before a big fake smile covered for the momentary exception of weakness.

“I will be naked if I want, why would I tell anyone about having sex with you when you’re not even positive we had sex in the first place and I will go wherever the fuck I want Solo.”

The hall darkened, as the door shut tight in Ben Solo’s nose, leaving him with a thought that only now entered through his thick skull.

Did they even fuck?

29th of June, noon

“No.”

“Rey…” Rose was chewing what seemed to be the tenth piece of gum in her one-piece swimsuit, with a big Chanel logo at its centre, sunbathing in her backyard like a lizard in the desert.

“I said, I don’t want to go.” Rey turned on her stomach on the sunbed not even bothering to take off her sunglasses.

She had gotten used to Rose’s habits by now. Her Portland accent even seemed adorable. The one thing she couldn’t understand was Rose's desire to got to every party, social event or gathering in the city. Usually, that would be all well, if they weren’t in a Balkan country where the clubs were countless, the social gatherings were basically non-stop drinking time if one was willing enough to drink with the right people, there were parties every single night at least six locations and today was the last day of school so from this point forward for a month and a half they could get as blackout drunk as they wanted.

“You promised me that you’ll take me to that one club where they have typical Balkan music! You took Poe, during the Christmas vacation and since then you’ve told me and I quote ‘You haven’t heard Mili Kitich’s voice’. You’re right. I haven’t. I’m tired of hip-hop and piano bars!” she sounded nothing short of a spoiled child, but it wasn’t a lie. Rey did promise to take her it was just that there had been one bastard on her mind who had ruined her whole day and now she truly didn’t want to go anywhere.

“If it weights in the odds, I want to go too.” Finn showed up from the inside of the house with a tray of three freshly made Margarita cocktails for a backyard sunbathing that didn’t even involve a pool. If
the neighbours peaked they would think that they’re doing a magazine photoshoot and are not just plain old bored university kids.

His dark chocolate skin reflected on the sun as he reached to give Rey her due potion of magic. One couldn’t help but notice how handsome her best friend is in his Prada swim trunks.

Rey groaned lowly turning on her back taking a sip. The taste was fresh and reviving on her tongue. Her consciousness cleared as three fundamental truths crept their way into her head at the same time.

“Delicious, baby. You’re truly the barista this world is missing on. More for us I guess.” That’s one. “Let’s go tonight, only on the occasion that it’s the three of us.” Two. No more people, no way for him to disturb her peace.

The third she saved for herself. Where he actually was should truly be considered none of her god damn business. Why was she denying happiness to herself while he was all types of smug and rubbing his wits in her face? For nothing. If she pondered on his asshollness, she was giving him the upper hand. None of that.

“Yeah, can’t do. Already told Kaydell.” Rose sing-sang.

“Already told Poe.” Finn smiled at her.

Their voices came out at the same time with no remorse or guilt of any kind whatsoever. Rey should’ve guessed that much. That’s usually how it went in relationships. Partners were always invited, especially when they were as tight as they were. Poe and Finn had been together for almost a year, while Rose and Kaydel – for the last five months.

As for Rey, relationships did not come so easy. The demands towards her partner were too high to be considered reasonable by any remotely decent man in her life therefor her entertainment program was in the hands of her collection of toys – from monster dildos that have never been touched due to the fear they produced every time she would decide that today was the day to try them out to her best friend, Hilda the magic wand in midnight black.

Rey considered herself a switch, with an affinity for topping. For Balkan men dominance was synonymous to a personality trait, therefor none really gave her what she wanted. And even their proclaimed “handling” was fake as a three-dollar gold chain from the luxury dupe bazaar. None of them treated her with the dignity and respect demanded from a real dominant – they just grunted and tried choking her ineffectively. If she wanted to top all whined and pulled her physically on top, thinking that this would do. It will satisfy the little girl.

In Rey’s books, dominance was a power struggle, something she had to earn from her partner. An equally dominant partner would make her drop a sweat if she wants to be the one calling the shots. Such man was yet to show up in Rey’s life.

Lies.

“If you told Poe, that means his holiness is tagging along.” Rey murmured unhappily finishing her cocktail at once.

“Okay, but is it so hard to actually try and get along?”

Finn had been trying to play the mediator between them for as long as she had known the brute. Rey suspected it had nothing to do with her, it was more so for Poe’s comfort of knowing Finn’s and his best friend will not end up clawing each other’s eyes. It’s not like she didn’t understand, the two of them in one place really was unbearable at times. They opposed each other even on the topic of what’s right and what’s left just to continue bickering. To see who can come on top. Not that Rey had been keeping score but it was two hundred and three to zero. For her of course.

Deep inside, in a place whose existence Rey was still absolutely unwilling to acknowledge, she knew the true root of her hatred towards him. As of now though, there was no reason to accept it whatsoever. Bickering and snarky remarks would do.

The door of the backyard swung open, the strong scent of tropical cologne pervaded through the air almost choked Rey to death. Not that it wasn’t nice, it was surely top ten smells, it was just so unnecessarily strong. With Poe Dameron it was like that – first you smell him, then you see him and then usually he is stuck to Finn’s back. Exactly in this order and he followed with it thoroughly as Finn found himself stuck in his lovers’ arms.

“Well, hello there, Mr Prada.” Poe graced his boyfriends’ cheek with a kiss, receiving a small smile in return. “We went to the grocery store. The big one on the highway. You were right, R-”

“Fuck this! Stupid cabinet! Fucking hell! My head! Who left the sweets cabinet open?!”

An array of more curses flew from the kitchen alerting the whole group outside that someone just had a close encounter with a concussion. It was a loud, raspy, angry voice that drove all her senses into malfunction as a sly, sadistic smile covered Rey’s features. She left the cabinet open by accident. Her sweet tooth had gotten the best of her after lunch, stealing most of the resident's stack of chocolate and jellies as a consequence.

Two hundred and four to zero. Sorry, not sorry. Some ice would fix him. Not that anything could fix his ugly mug.

“He’ll live. We are going to the club.” Rose put her sunglasses back on, laying down.

“I never doubted we were going to the club. The question was more how many people tagged along. Good to know it’s all of us.” Poe winked at Rey in an ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist a night of
Grey Goose and Moet’s’ as the napkins will fly over them in beautiful chaos.

“Yey, true joy.” She whispered, finally starting to enjoy the idea of going out. The music that will surround her as her body rubs in with a stranger that she will probably take home and never hear of again after that.

“Where’s the ice?”

The sun hid behind his giant body. Unconsciously Rey’s lips felt heavy and dry on her face, her tongue darting to lightly dampen them. It had nothing to do with Ben Solo. Absolutely not. She hates his guts. With every fibre of her body as a matter of fact.

It’s an absolute breeze to ignore him, right? She had done it the whole year of university. His sharp cheekbones, neatly shaven face and dark, piercingly black eyes were unbearable to look at, right? His exposed toned chest by the halfway unbutton silk shirt, graced by several golden chains around his neck, didn’t look sexy, only tacky, right?

Most importantly his full pink lips didn’t make forbidden fire burn inside of her at the thought of sitting on them, just choking him on her juices…right?

Right.

He was an annoying, irritating, smart piece of shit feeding off his mama’s money with barely any personality traits besides brooding. The feeling of agitation caused by Ben Solo’s mere presence tightened around her chest, suffocating every last niche of rationality. The snarky reply launched from her lips in the fraction of a second before the actual contemplation of the possible consequences had taken place.

“In the freezer genius.”

The glare he hit her with was nothing short of lethal. Rey was absolutely certain Ben was contemplating at least ten ways in which he could break her in two like a twig. If he wanted, he could’ve.

“Thanks for the useful input. I wonder where this brilliancy must have been when Ivanov deducted the vital point of your history exam? Maybe you could’ve implemented it there and come on top - oh wait. Can’t do. I’m on top. Full score.”

She was offered a plastic knowing smirk, the point of the conversation very smoothly returning to the current issue at hand - how to shrink or best case prevent a possible lump from the hit.

Rey was just standing there, speechless, the anger no more suffocating. Now it represented more the true source of her life force. She relied on it to continue functioning or else she would’ve simply broken Solo’s neck with the very clear understanding she’ll pay for it forever.

Two hundred and four to one.

There was absolutely nothing she could reply at the revelation of her self-proclaimed History failure. Ivanov was an asshole that didn’t like Rey simple because every time he opened his mouth to explain a
historical event he would miss a vital detail or wrongfully represent it, putting Rey in the uncomfortable position of having to correct him.

“It’s your name that keeps you at the top, not my points.” She murmured mad before getting up to take a shower her bare feet scraping through the pavement.

“Glad we agree I’m on top.” Rose’s hand barely came in contact with Ben Solo’s neck in a surprisingly blaring slap.

“You’re on top cause you tall, Solo, not because you can be an actual top, Mr Yes, mommy, please mommy.”

Rey giggled at Rose’s defence, taking a towel from the common area of the house as the sound of Kaydel’s heels rang through the house, informing the rest of the residents of her arrival.

“Baby,” she kissed Rey’s cheek in a loving Balkan manner. Beyond the socially-accepted norms of the patriarchal society she had been living in, Kaydel owned a sense of elegance that was rare for the geographical region at their age.

Not that any of them – Rey, Finn or Kaydel had been brought up in conventional circumstances, they were just extraordinarily lucky. All three of them were in fact born orphans, their mothers had abounded them at the same hospital in the span of four short months. It so happened that three very wealthy families had been looking forward to adopting newborns.

Fast forward twenty-one years later, Rey was set up to be the heir of the biggest food chain in the country going by the simple name of “Smiley”, Finn had been preparing to take over his father’s construction company and Kaydel refused to be next in line of the real estate empire of her parents, instead opting for fashion and blogging that honestly by now had been working out perfectly for her. Of course, given she still ended up taking on shares and responsibility in the company.

They were rich kids, yet none of them forgot their roots and tried to stay as humble as it was possible. Humble in Chanel, Kaydel would say.

Rose must have heard her girlfriend coming in, barging through the door, jumping on her neck, peppering her face with kisses.

“My beloved,” Kay bend down to peck her girlfriend who suddenly looked like a child in a candy store. “Are we going to the club and if yes,” Rose nodded eagerly “okay, in that case, what are we wearing and Rey should call her dad to save us the V.I.P. lounge.”

She had to do that or else they would be stuck with the rest of the crowd with a collective IQ equivalent of less than a hundred.

Shower first.

30th of June

Stepping out of the comfort of the two on two square meters’ shower Rey could’ve sworn the dirty feeling of her body had yet to be rubbed off entirely. Inspecting the red patches from where the bathing sponge had scoured, Rey concluded that her skin it had gone through enough scrubbing for one morning.

They couldn’t have possibly fucked. The thought had been so mind-bugging as she got up the stairs from the first to the second floor and then into the attic.

In what universe did she allow herself to get weak enough to be actually smitten by Ben Solo? In this one obviously.

She wasn’t really feeling sore, that being one of the two indicators that they had possibly just ended up together in one bed. The other one was being Rey’s habit of cuddling next to men she has had sex with. It was too deep-rooted in her abonnement issues to even entertain the idea of having had wild sex with Ben Solo and not given him the cuddle treatment afterwards.

On the other hand, why would they be naked if they didn’t do anything that involved them being naked?

Getting inside the comfort of her room, scratch that, the room felt just as dirty and mysterious as her body, all of her insecurities hit at once, inducing the pumping headache from the hangover. Rey lost her balance scrambling to the ground, head against the door, that proved as the only stability she could afford right now.

The carpet, white and soft against her naked skin, offered a lingering sense of innocence she was sure had been completely lost last night. She started therapy practised breathing to relax the gathered-up tension from the hangover, the missing chunk of a faithful night and Ben Solo’s giant, masculine body, paired up with his charming smile and eyes that held no actual hatred for her…

The crippling revelations, otherwise unsettling for her nature and more importantly her behaviour, were cut short when she noticed a piece of fabric under her desk. It mimicked one of her favourite baby blue-pink thongs with flower lace at the front and bows in the back. It couldn’t be it, her choice of underwear for the club had always been comfortable cotton boxers. They offered safety in case her skin-tight dresses lift dangerously high while she’s in a state of drunken bliss.

Crawling closer, her legs not strong enough to hold her up, Rey grabbed the object in her hand before a very soft, terrified sigh left her lips.

The thong had been dripping wet at some point, but most importantly, it was in pieces right now. It had been ripped at the base the second part nowhere to be seen. Holding it tightly, Rey’s eyes began a frantic search for the remaining of her favourite lingerie.

Colourful curses in a native Slavic language fell off her lips one by one, her hands shook, holding the fabric in an iron grip.

It had nothing to do with a piece of fabric anymore. Rey had let her defences down for the one person in the entire world they had to be constantly up for.

Her finger rubbed the delicate lace, tracing the familiar pattern of the flowers falling off where the second part had been missing. Someone had ripped an unused thong, as far as her memory went and there was only one brute in her life strong enough to do this unapologetically.

The thought had to terrify her, to disgust her, to bring her anxiety. Instead, Rey felt comfort like a piece of a missing puzzle had finally been put in place when Ben Solo undeniably had rocked her shit.

The worst part was, Rey wished she could remember it.

Epilogue

“There he is! The shining knight! Where were you Cinderella?” Poe and Finn were sitting on the couch in the spacious living room of the house.

Finn only waved at him, visibly as hungover as Ben.

“Dameron, aren’t you even a remotely bit hungover?” Ben tried to desperately deviate the topic off of himself.

“Do not offend me. I was born with liquid fire in my veins, there’s nothing that can bring me down. And don’t change the subject. Where were you?”

There was no one who knew Ben, the way Poe did. He couldn’t lie to his best friend, but he could try to twist the truth in a pretty bow.

“Have you seen Rey? She disappeared at some point after going to the bathroom.” Finn trailed off with a grimace of half-concern, half inability to comprehend emotions on his face.

“I dropped her off at theirs and that’s my last memory. Woke up at the hill.” Ben shrugged off in a breezy manner masking his true feeling of fright.

“At the hill?! You were blacked out drunk Solo! I’m confiscating your keys next time! You could’ve killed Rey and yourself.”

Rose emerged wearing nothing more than Kaydel’s shirt from last night.

“I know, I know. Sorry.” A sheepish smile from him softens his best friends stern face, leaning down for her to ruffle his locks “I’ll be going off now, I need a nap.”

He excused himself into his room before anyone could ask any more questions. The quietness his room offered only made him hyperaware of how fast his heart had been beating.

His hand slipped into the pocket of the black pants, pulling out a baby blue elastic band with a little bit of pink lace at the end.

Ben remembered. He remembered everything.

Most importantly the way she whispered on his lips,

“I hate that I love you, you piece of shit.”