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“I still don't understand... why me?” FN2187 groaned to the comrade walking alongside himself. “And what's it all about?”
“Maybe some deflowering ritual?” FN2196 jested.
“No, no don't even joke about that!”
Both stopped before the closed door, beyond which FN2187 knew who to expect, just not what to expect. Captain Phasma had given the orders merely minutes before. He was report to Training Room 306, where Kylo Ren would be waiting.
FN2187 took a deep breath, hearing his pulse pounding in his ears, as though his heart had decided to creep up his body, to relocate in his throat. Perhaps Kylo Ren had a daily quota of virgin sacrifices to fulfil, in order to sustain his dark abilities. From what he'd seen of the somewhat deranged Darth-Lord-Wannabie-With-The-Terrible-Temper , nothing would shock him.
Please don't let this be a virgin sacrifice thing.
FN2187 was tempted to turn to his friend, who he held no sexual attraction towards, and insist that they have sex, right there.
“Alright, I'd better go,” FN2196 said. “I'm due for duty in the kitchens in ten minutes. Actually... damn, I'm going to be late. FN3145 is going to kill me!”
“Alright,” FN2187 wiped the sweat off his forehead, and tried the handle to the door, feeling his fingers slip. He wiped his hand on the breastplate of his storm-trooper armour and tried again. This time, it turned and opened.
He stepped inside, to an utterly bare room, but for the man, with curly dark hair, seated, cross-legged on the floor. FN2187 had never seen Kylo Ren without his mask and long robes before. He wasn't sure what he was anticipating... certainly not this very human, rather young looking man.
Don't think too much! He may be able to read your mind. You don't know!
“You're here. Good.” Kylo then stood up, staring at him with a rather opaque expression. “You must be wondering why.”
Eyes the same shade of his own. Not cold, as he would have expected, but expressive. He wasn't sure what exactly Kylo was thinking but there was clear, convoluted emotion pouring out of the dark irises.
“Well, I-”
“You may take off your helmet, and storm-trooper armour, for now,” Kylo said.
Unable to shake his feeling of bewilderment, FN2187 removed his helmet and started peeling off the layers of his storm-trooper armour, looking around for an area to place the items, before simply dumping them on the ground beside him. He noticed that Kylo wore the same long sleeved black shirt and pants under his uniform, that he did. Kylo was, admittedly, more broad-shouldered and defined than he'd imagined. The outfit was far more tighter than his, sticking to the contours of Kylo's body-
Why am I thinking this?
“We are going to fight.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have been trained in the martial art of stick fighting, yes?”
“Well, yes, but-”
Kylo turned and walked to the corner of the room, picking up a long, tapered stick that FN2187 had not noticed, when he initially arrived inside. The other man then came back to FN2187 and threw it at him. FN2187 caught it almost on reflex.
“Well?”
“Well, I-”
Kylo lifted his hand and curled his finger inwards. FN2187 felt his entire body propel forward, not of its own volition, feet skittering along the ground, towards the other man.
“I said fight me!”
FN2187 raised his stick and half-heartedly waved it towards Kylo.
“Pathetic!”
Kylo lifted his leg and kicked him back, hard enough to send him flying but not hard enough for it to actually hurt. FN2187 felt anxiety start to explode in his body. He still didn't know what this was about... although he was starting to suspect that this was Kylo's way of amusing himself.
You want a fight, fine!
He rushed back forward and brought the stick down towards Kylo, only to have the Dark Jedi flick his hand and drive him a few paces backwards. FN2187 then circled around and brought the stick down towards Kylo's back. In response, Kylo spun around to face him and lifted his hand again, in an almost lazy fashion. The stick flew out of his hand, returning to the corner of the room.
“Hux truly thinks that he has trained the best storm-troopers? Ridiculous! Look at you. Look at you all. Every single one that I have fought in this room has-”
FN2187 let out a roar and launched himself onto Kylo, reaching his hands to the first part of Kylo's body that they came, to; the side of his ribs. He wasn't sure what he was thinking to do, just to squeeze, to scratch,to bruise-
“No, wait wait...” A slight grin momentarily broke over Kylo's face, before he righted it.
What's... going on here?
As FN2187's hands reached for Kylo's mid-section again, this time with curiosity, Kylo jumped and started tittering, a slight mad panic in his eyes. Disconcerted, FN2187 jabbed at the area with his fingers. Kylo tittered once more.
“Stop, stop!”
FN2187 stepped back, feeling conversely perplexed, scared and bemused.
Well, well...
He stepped forward again and dug his fingers in even further, now tormenting the Dark Jedi with relentless tickling, while Kylo screamed and laughed. A dim memory came back to him; a very tall looking, long haired woman, bending over him, his own shrieks of laughter, as her fingers jabbed at his flesh, the way his were now jabbing at Kylo Ren.
Admit it, FN2187. As crazy as this is, you're having fun!
“I said stop!”
FN2187's larynx then closed up. Alarmed, he scratched at his throat, stumbling around the room, desperate for air, feeling his lungs burn, his brain screaming at him that it needed oxygen. He could feel himself start to become light-headed, dizzy. Black dots appeared in front of him-
His airway opened, allowing blessed oxygen to fill his lungs. FN2187 collapsed to the floor, rolling over on his hands and knees, still gasping.
“Put your armour back on and get out!” Kylo demanded.
FN2187 rushed to his storm-trooper armour and shoved it back on, not even bothering to properly do up the clasps and buckles. Phasma would undoubtedly berate him, for that, but right now his only priority was getting away from Kylo Ren.
He placed his helmet on and risked glancing in Kylo's direction. The other man's eyes looked very dark in his suddenly rather pale face. FN2187 didn't wish to see any more. He quickly high-tailed out of the room.
*
Kylo Ren. The man who had brutally murdered Han Solo right in front of him.
His own father.
Finn found it impossible to reconcile the man before him, with the one who had giggled and sqwarked, from his tickling fingers.
“Traitor!” Kylo shouted.
Finn turned on the lightsaber, preparing to fight.
*
There he was.
Finn had been looking for Poe for the past fifteen minutes. He'd finally relented and asked the Ex-Dark Sith-Wannabie and Recent Resistance Convert/Snoke Destroyer, Ben Solo, where his boyfriend was. Ben, who had been walking with his mother, answered that he didn't know.
Seeing Poe step out of the forest, outside the Resistance Base, Finn grinned, walking up to him.
“Poe! Been looking for you.”
Poe gave his usual sunny smile and reached around, to pat Finn on the back.
“How are you?”
"Great!"
"What is it? There's something you want to tell me, isn't there?"
No one could ever accuse Poe of not being intuitive.
Oh, Poe. It's time for you to know the truth about Ben.
“Well, you asked me the other night if there was anything, from Ben's time in the First Order, that you should know about. Perhaps something that he would be too ashamed to tell you. Yes, there is something.”
Seeing apprehension grow in Poe's dark irises, Finn couldn't help but grin.
“He is extremely ticklish!”
Poe laughed, the apprehension now turning to glee. “I don't even want to know how you know that. Ticklish, huh? Thanks for the information!”
Poe actually whistled, as he then jaunted off towards the Resistance building, with Finn alongside him.
“Let's go find Ben now and launch a tickling attack,” Poe said.
Finn laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”