Archive of Our Own

“Is your helmet on tight enough?” Ben asks for the seventh time.

In answer, looking more and more like her grandmother, Hannah turns and gives her father a flat look.

Ben holds up his hands and sighs.

She’s only eleven, but sometimes his daughter moves through the world with a sort of weariness that surpasses even him. And not because she’s had a bad life! Ben’s job as a lawyer has given them a very cushy existence—a cozy three-bedroom house in the suburbs, good quality schools, all the enrichment she could need.

No, Ben’s pretty sure Hannah’s dry, often beleaguered aura is genetic. He’s pretty sure of this because there are only about a thousand home videos of him being exasperated with his mother or giving his father a deadpan, annoyed look.

The curse—I hope you have a child just like you someday—continues to hold power.

Hoisting her skateboard a little higher under her arm, Hannah takes a bracing breath. “Okay.” She gives her dad a look. “I’m going in.”

“I’ll be sitting right here on the bench, okay?”

“Okay, Dad.”

Black, wavy hair rippling under her blue helmet, Hannah strikes towards the baby ramp on the far side of the park.

The Naberrie skate park is, all things considered, a bit of an anomaly in the small town. Nestled against the Oregon mountains, just minutes outside of the Shakespeare Festival’s territory, the area is mostly home to rich retirees and people who play King Lear or Prospero during the summer months. It’s too far from the university to really be for the students and too close to the mountains to be anything other than what it is: a rich person’s pet project.

A fully paved, multiple-pipe-bank-rail-and-ramp-having rich person’s pet project.

The plaque outside the park, which Ben has read about fifty times since they started coming here, says that the ramps and obstacles were all donated by Elzar Manning, one of the mid-century modern mayors of Naberrie. A picture of Manning—dark haired, square jawed, handsome, foreboding—adorns the bottom right of the plaque. (A helpful Sharpied addition to the photo informs all visitors that Manning absolutely ripped.)

((Ben has looked up videos of Manning skating in the 70s; he did indeed rip.))

Watching his daughter march across the park towards the smallest ramp, her jaw set with determination, Ben smiles faintly to himself. There are only three other skaters in the area, and they’re all far too advanced in their skills to want to compete with Hannah for the “baby’s ramp,” as his daughter called it with a derisive sneer two days ago.

He had tried to say, “everyone starts somewhere, honey,” and was immediately ethered by his daughter’s poisonous glare.

Rolling his lips together to smother the smile out of existence before his daughter can see, Ben pulls out his phone.

We’re at the skate park again.

It takes about three seconds for the answer to come through.

damn, i can’t believe i’m missing it again??? have you guys considered not doing cool shit while i'm flying over the atlantic????

Ben scoffs, shaking his head.

We both know you’re not actually in the air right now, Poe. You put your phone away like a good little boy when you’re in the pilot’s seat.

yeah, because i’m not trying to be like that delta 1141 crash.

Ben glances up to check on Hannah: she’s still standing in front of the ramp, her board clutched in her hands.

He knows better than to try and yell encouragements at her. (She’s her father’s daughter, after all.)

When do you have your next days off? We can come back and you can show her how to do the ramp.

“do the ramp” lmao. christ, ben, it’s called dropping in.

and three days, thank god. i’m sick of hotel beds.

Milwaukee again?

nyc.

At least you can get a slice l’industrie.

as if i’m going into fucking manhattan, benji, please.

Ben laughs, shaking his head. Poe: such a baby. He glances up, his mind still fixed on pizza, and goes still for a millisecond.

Some… stranger—a woman, but still a stranger—is standing next to Hannah at the ramp. The stranger is on the ground, reaching up towards his daughter, and—

Ben bursts off the bench. He hustles over, his phone banging against his thigh in his pocket. Who is this woman, holding Hannah up by her armpits???

“Hi, I’m—”

The woman—medium height, athletic build, hair in messy bun at the back of her head—doesn’t even look up at him.

“Just hang on a tic, Dad: we’re practicing.”

Oh. She has a British accent. Like… Julie Andrews-British accent. Posh, refined. It’s in complete contradiction with her messy hair, her far-too-big jeans, her oversized black band t-shirt with a faded No Doubt logo on it.

Gobsmacked, he freezes. Hannah gives him a sharp glance, as though daring him to say something—Ben decides to wait and see.

The stranger keeps talking to Hannah in a calm, relaxed voice. “So, you’ve already got the basics down. Now you just need to trust your body and the physics, yeah?” She tilts a bit, taking Hannah with her. “Lean over the board as you go down and then press up as the incline decreases.” They both go upright again and the stranger removes her hands to gesture in the air. “Your brain is going to tell you that you need to lean back. Know that the laws of physics are consistent: as you lean over your body, inertia will take you where you need to be.”

Hannah nods fervently. “Right. ‘Objects in motion tend to stay in motion.’”

“Exactly.” The stranger smiles—and it’s bright and beautiful. Gorgeous dimples, smile lines around her perfect teeth. Ben thinks about his own toothy grin and feels self-conscious. “Alright, let’s try it on this little ramp a few times.”

His daughter and the British woman do, in fact, do a handful of tries wherein Hannah is braced by surprisingly strong arms as she drops in on the baby ramp. The stranger is so obviously genuinely excited to see Hannah progressing that Ben ends up with his phone in hand again, filming his daughter as she tries and tries again.

On the final attempt, Hannah leans over, the woman’s hands just hovering by her sides—and Ben sees the moment she decides to step back entirely.

Hannah pitches over the edge of the ramp, physics taking over, and glides.

Standing back, the woman holds her arms out wide. “See? You didn’t even need me. You’ve got it!”

Phone raised to capture it, Ben watches, his heart squishy and full, as Hannah drops in on the baby ramp and goes down with an exhilarated squeal.

He can hardly help how it makes him smile, seeing her do this thing that has baffled her for weeks now. He decides to risk it.

“You’re doing amazing, Hannah!”

She turns to him and beams. “Did you see it??”

Ben leans out from behind his phone, smiling. “I saw it.”

She skates over to him and comes to a juddering stop. “Are you going to send that to Uncle Poe??”

Ben nods. “Yeah. He’s completely distraught that you’re learning without him, by the way.”

“But now I can practice until his next day off!” Hannah looks at his phone’s camera. “Uncle Poe, let’s do the half pipe when you get back!!”

Behind her, the woman laughs. “Do the ramp a few more times and then you can learn how to pump.”

“Okay!”

Hannah zooms away.

The woman, smiling, her eyes on Hannah the whole time, leans towards Ben. “I’m Rey, by the way.”

“Hi.” Ben clears his throat. “I’m Ben. The dad.”

“Yes, I gathered.” He can hear the laughter in her voice. “Not a skater yourself?”

Widening his eyes, Ben shakes his head. “Uh, no. I tried it at the beginning—like how hard can it be?—and promptly ate shit when the board went over a crack in the sidewalk.”

Rey smothers a snort into her palm and Ben cuts her a look. “Hannah laughed, too.”

Gathering herself, she gives him a sidelong smile. “And you decided to give it up for life after that?”

“No,” Ben sighs, his eyes tracking Hannah as she sails down the ramp, letting the bowl take her round and round, “Hannah told me if I wore my dorky orange helmet here that she wouldn’t speak to me for two months.”

Apparently unable to resist this time, Rey tips her head back and laughs.

“She’s certainly emotive,” is what she finally says when she can speak again, and Ben huffs a laugh of his own.

“Her father’s daughter for sure.” He glances at Rey and then remembers why he was staring so intently at his daughter: Rey is pretty. Very. “So you just hover at the skate park, hoping to coach newbies into their sickest selves?”

“Oh my god, I would refuse to talk to you for two months, too.” She tucks a stray hair behind her ear that immediately flies away into the breeze again. “No, I was giving someone lessons that ended right as Hannah was giving it a go.” She gestures to Hannah with her chin. “She’s a natural.”

“She has her mother’s physical grace, for sure.” He finally tears his eyes away from hazel eyes to look at Hannah again; his daughter looks up and gives him a tentative wave before zipping down the ramp again. “I’m glad she didn’t end up a big, clumsy oaf like me.”

“Ah. And her mother is… what? A ballerina? A gazelle?”

Ben laughs, shaking his head. “No, last I heard, she was working in a corporate role as a data analyst. But she was very good at volleyball when we dated in college.”

It’s a breezy enough explanation for it, anyways. Tava was beautiful and emotionally unavailable and absolutely delightful in bed.

But she had never wanted to be a mother.

Whereas Ben had always wanted to be a father.

“Ah, well maybe she’s a corporate data analyst for a ballet company.” Rey sounds sage, circumspect. “That would explain it.” She spins towards Hannah. “Now, we’re going to add a pump, yeah?”

A pump is apparently what skaters call pressing up after you drop in, Ben discovers. There are many words that barely seem to have a relationship to the thing they describe: allie-oop, Benihana (not the Japanese food place), fakie, funbox… It’s all bizarre and unknown to Ben as he watches Hannah work on her pumps under Rey’s encouragement, pausing to shoot him a progressively widening grin as she gets further and further from the ramp in her descents.

“That’s beautiful, Hannah!”

Ben glances at his watch and winces. “Han, we gotta pack up so we can get dinner going.”

All he gets in reply is a distant awwww.

“I know.” He waits until she sullenly slopes around, skating back in his direction. “We’ll come back soon so you can build on what you’ve done so far, okay?”

Hannah’s face brightens, her dark eyes going sparkly again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” She rolls to a slow stop in front of them and kicks her board up into her hand. “Like tomorrow?”

With a sigh, Ben nods. “Okay.”

His daughter gives a celebratory whoop, including a little hop of joy. It makes Ben smile as he turns and holds out a hand. “Thank you, Rey.”

Her smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. Reaching out, Rey takes his hand, her grip firm.

“Of course, Dad.” She looks at Hannah. “Come back on Saturday morning; we’ll work our way up to the quarter pipe, yeah?”

Hannah jumps in the air. “Really??”

“Really, really.”

Ben is… still holding Rey’s hand. He drops it and shoves both hands into his pockets.

Unbothered, Rey lifts her extended arm up to salute him instead. “Godspeed, Dad. Hopefully, I’ll see you on Saturday.”

Ben frowns at the way his heart is thrumming. “Yeah. Maybe.”

On the drive home, Hannah makes it clear, in no uncertain terms, that they will be going to the skate park on Saturday.

“So, she’s what… Pretty? Why are you acting like it’s the first time you’ve seen a pretty woman?”

Poe is slouched down on Ben’s couch, the baseball game playing at a low murmur while they chat about his grim dining options near JFK airport and Hannah’s progress.

Ben hushes his oldest friend, grimacing as he leans over the couch to hand him another beer.

“Jesus, Poe, say it louder.”

Ben should know better. He really should.

“Is it your first time—”

He claps his hand over Poe’s mouth and curses. Under his palm, Poe’s smile stretches wide, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“We’re turning forty this year, Poe.”

Poe knocks Ben’s hand away and grabs the beer. “And what? We stop being human with functioning eyes and dicks? Spare me.” He takes a swig. “You can have a crush. It won’t kill you.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Rey looks like she’s about… fifteen years younger than me.”

“Don’t exaggerate: I watched the video. Also, what are you, marrying her?” Poe is incorrigible, apparently. Actually, Ben should already know that. “She’s a pretty girl at a park who made your heart flutter. It doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”

Sagging into the couch next to Poe, Ben groans. “If I didn’t have a child, I would walk into traffic rather than have this conversation with you.”

Poe takes out his phone and starts to fiddle with it. “Liar. You count on me to make you do fun shit. That’s why you told me she’s pretty in the first place.”

It’s a damning (and true) accusation that Ben chooses to ignore.

(But he is not going to tell Poe that he thought about Rey the last time he jacked off and literally came three pumps in. He doesn’t have a death by humiliation wish.)

Instead, Ben stares at the screen, watching a ball sail towards the stands only to collide with the foul pole with a tinny clank and the disappointed awwww of the crowd.

“Oh, she is pretty.” Poe scrolls. “And way out of your league.”

Ben’s gaze flicks over to Poe’s phone—Rey beaming at the camera slides by under his friend’s thumb. He scoffs. “Everyone’s out of my league, Poe. I’m a single father.”

Now, Poe is annoyed. “Excuse you, that’s my best friend you’re talking about.” He holds up his phone, a reel playing on instagram—Rey, doing a complicated series of stunts in the Naberrie skate park. “She’s just hotter than you and good on a board.” He swipes through a couple videos before adding, belatedly, “But, your cock puts you in a very high league. Like AAA, at least.”

With a laugh, Ben rolls his eyes, letting his head drop to rest on the back of the couch. “I should have never said yes to that blowjob in junior year.”

“You said you wanted to learn how to do it right,” Poe singsongs, and Ben covers his face with his hands.

“I learned nothing other than the fact that you are insane at giving head.”

“Thank you.” Poe sounds smug as hell. “If we’re both still single this November, maybe you’ll let me show you what I can do with my cock.”

Cheeks burning, Ben drops his hands onto the cushions with a thump. “We both know I couldn’t handle it.”

“Yeah, you’d try to propose while I was still inside you.”

They both laugh and Poe clinks their beers together with a suggestive pump of his brows.

Ben tilts his head in faux thought. “Leia would be thrilled, though.”

Poe’s gaze goes distant. “Man, she really wanted us to hook up.”

“I mean, we did…”

“But not in a relationship. I just sucked your brains out of your skull, and you’ve been pining ever since.”

“Fuck off, Dam.”

“Nah.”

They both watch the game for a few seconds, the silence comfortable, soothing.

When the tradition started, Ben can’t quite remember—but going back for about ten years at least, Poe always stops by the Solo house when he arrives back in town. Ben tries to have food and a cold beer waiting for his friend, and they debrief about Poe’s trip and whatever else Ben has been up to in Dameron’s last sojourn.

And since being a commercial pilot means Dam can be gone for a week and a half at a time, hop-skipping across the world, there’s always something to catch up on.

The point is that it’s nice to always know that Poe is going to show up, wanting to chat and listen.

Nice to know that at least one person is genuinely invested in his life.

Plus, Poe loves being the cool, queer uncle. He’s fun and funny and Hannah loves him with a ferocity that makes Ben only slightly jealous.

It works: their weird, unorthodox family unit.

“So, are you going to ask the hot skater girl out?”

“What?” Ben shakes his head. “And ruin something for Hannah? No.”

Poe clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Coward.”

“No. I’m trying to be a good dad.”

“You are a good dad.”

“Well, that means that I just have to be polite to the nice lady at the skate park rather than drool over her.”

“Can’t you just… drool over her in private and ask her out in a normal, sophisticated way at the skate park?”

Risking a momentary lapse in maturity, Ben mutters, “Not with that ass, I can’t.”

Poe’s guffaw is loud enough to rattle the sliding glass door to the backyard.

It is a source of great consternation to Ben that Poe and Rey hit it off immediately.

Ben always has to work at becoming close with someone; meanwhile, Poe Dameron swans in with just his rogueish smile and a slightly-too-tight black tee, and suddenly he’s the talk of the skate park.

He would be more annoyed if he didn’t love Poe so much.

Ben reminds himself of this as Poe sails by, effortless, riding up the half pipe to slide his board along the edge before gliding back down.

From her roost atop the quarter pipe, Hannah crows and claps.

Rey’s eyes follow Poe as he zips around the bowl. “He’s really good.”

Her apparent appreciation makes Ben feel vindictive. “He used to be in a ska band.”

Her pretty mouth drops open in delight. “No.”

“Yes.” Ben leans over, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. “A Christian ska band.”

The laugh that follows this is ecstatic. A bright, high bark of disbelieving glee. “Is there any video of this?”

“Ohhhh plenty.” Ben pulls out his phone and swipes it open. “Including them doing a performance of ‘How Great Thou Art.’”

“Oh my god!” It comes out in another laugh, Rey’s hands closing around Ben’s to yank the phone down to her height.

Swallowing, Ben tries to be as calm as he can about how warm Rey’s hands are—how he can feel the gentle scrape of callused palms against the sensitive skin of his fingers.

They’ve already been at the skate park for two hours—including Rey successfully guiding Hannah down the quarter pipe a few times—and Ben is no closer to asking Rey out than he was while confiding in Poe at his house earlier this week.

“Wow, I was going to say that I can’t believe he’s single but seeing this: I really can.”

Something ugly and acidic burns in Ben’s throat. He frowns against it and nods. “I think it’s the flying schedule, mainly.” He clicks his phone off and shoves it in his pocket. “He’s still a great guy, though.”

As though to prove Ben’s point, Poe zooms over to the quarter pipe and lands next to Hannah, giving her a grin.

Ten seconds later, they make synchronized drop ins, laughing and chattering about it the entire time.

Hard to stay mad at the man for being attractive when he’s playing with Hannah like that. They make a long, lazy lap around the bowl before zipping towards Ben and Rey.

Poe brushes a hand over his curls as he grinds to a stop in front of them. “Hannah’s looking so good on the quarter pipe, don’t you think, Ben?”

Ben’s smile goes soft as he looks at his daughter. “Of course. She’s got persistence.”

“Dad.”

He yanks her into his arms for a sideways hug that she pretends to hate. “Let your old man be proud of you, please.”

Beaming, Poe rocks his board back over the lip of the bowl. “Yeah, because he’s going to do it anyways on account of you being the badassest grommet to ever drop in!”

And, with a flourish, Poe skates back out into the concrete, going for a long grind on one of the rails at the far end of the park.

“You guys should all come over to my house on Monday for the long weekend.”

Ben blinks. “The—”

“For BBQ?” Rey continues, her smile bright and easy. “My roommate and I always do a neighborhood cookout thing, and I have a little half pipe in my backyard that Hannah could practice on.”

Hannah immediately perks up under Ben’s arm. “A half pipe??”

Nodding, Rey gives her a conspiratorial grin. “You could practice until the sun goes down. Become like Peggy Oki.”

Not even a breath passes between when Rey finishes speaking and Hannah begins begging with all the force she can muster.

“Oh, can we, Dad, please? It would be so fun and I will be so safe, it’s right there in Rey’s backyard! And Uncle Poe and Rey both will be there to help me if I need it. We don’t even have real plans for Monday anyways, Dad, so please please please—”

“We wouldn’t want to intrude,” Ben begins, even though he’s a lying liar who lies.

Rey’s smile grows wider. “It’s not an intrusion at all. My housemate, Finn—he always cooks way, way too much.” She leans in a bit. “Plus, I sort of think him and Poe would hit it off.”

Oh. Relief bursts through him as Ben lifts his brows. “Yeah?”

Confident, Rey nods. “Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

In the background of this entire exchange, Hannah has kept up a breathless, imploring monologue.

“—just end up going to Grandma and Grandpa’s and you end up looking annoyed to be there the whole time, so this would be ideal because we—”

“Alright—alright, honey.” Ben finally stops her with a gentle hand to her shoulder. “We can go.”

Hannah jumps into the air with a whoop!, her hands thrown over her head in celebration. Like she can barely contain herself, she drops her board onto the concrete and zips off, doing a low, quick circuit around the bowl, chanting yeah yeah yeah to herself as she does.

“That’s the most excited I’ve seen her yet,” Rey comments, baffled.

Ben sighs. “Me, too.”

Rey’s house, it turns out, is a sweet little bungalow walking distance from the skate park. It has two bedrooms, an adorable kitchen that still has the 1950s black and white check tile work, and fireplace that she says is for looks only on account of the malfunctioning flue.

Everything is kitschy and mismatched inside—as though it all came from garage sales and thrift stores with no thought as to whether they looked good together or made a cohesive room.

It’s cozy. Sweet.

She gives skating lessons to a small number of people because she loves skating and wants other people to feel comfortable doing it, too.

Her real job, she tells Ben as she loiters near the snack table, grazing her way through its contents, is being an industrial engineer.

“An engineer?”

“Mm.” Rey nods, picking up a slice of watermelon, which she promptly pops in her mouth. “I’m good at building things.”

“Good at building things, good at skating, good at making new friends—anything you suck at? Just to help us mere mortals feel a little more comfortable?”

Laughing around another bite of fruit, Rey shrugs. “My social graces could probably use some work.” She gives Ben a wink and he can very literally feel his heartbeat in his dick. “What about you?”

“Me?” He points at himself and she nods. “Um. Well. I’m bad at a lot of things.”

“No,” Rey laughs. “What do you do for work?”

“Oh.” Ben scrubs the back of his neck with a hand. “I’m a lawyer. Corporate. Boring. But it pays well and let me stay home with Hannah when she was still a toddler, so I like it well enough.”

Rey nods. “Taking care of her is the most important job you have, and you’re very good at it.”

The praise makes a warm ember glow to life in Ben’s chest. “Thanks.”

A loud crow of laughter breaks the moment. Ben turns towards the window and watches Hannah drop in on the half pipe while Poe watches, clapping with joy.

It reminds Ben to exercise his social graces. “And thank you for inviting us.” Hannah slopes up to the other side, repositions her board, and drops in again. “Hannah is obviously ecstatic, and I’m always happy when she’s happy.”

“Well, to be transparent, I invited you here with ulterior motives.”

Ben tears his eyes away from the window and frowns down at Rey. “Ulterior motives?”

Looking solemn, Rey nods. “Yes, I had designs to ask you out, actually.”

She… Ben blinks. She wants to ask him out?

“Me?”

“Yes.” In a move that really stuns him into further failure to speak, she takes a few short steps into his space, pressing her hands to his shirt.

Heat radiates where her palms rest on his beat-up teal t-shirt. Ben gulps.

Her hands slide up his chest. “Unless you’re not interested…?”

Without thinking, he traps her hand under his. “No. I’m very interested.”

Amusement makes her eyes twinkle, looking greener now than they did a few minutes ago. “Good.” She rises on her tiptoes. “Because I think you’ll be really fun to kiss.”

Ben’s mouth feels dry, suddenly. Full of cotton. That little line of confusion is between his brows, he just knows it.

“Kiss?” It comes out in a croak.

Rey is leaning up. “Yes.” Her hand slid up around his neck at some point. “Want to find out?”

Ben nods faintly, dazed.

What happens isn’t a kiss—or certainly not a kiss in the way that Ben has experienced before. Sure, he’s kissed plenty of people before and enjoyed it, too. Poe, for example, is a dynamite kisser and very fun to make out with.

But, Rey… She’s not kissing him, not really. It’s more like she’s gently and efficiently taking him apart with her watermelon-flavored mouth.

Her lips are plush, gentle, steering him into a better angle, a closer touch. She doesn’t seem to be bossing him about so much as she seems to want to enjoy him from every possible direction.

Blood rushes to his head and down to his cock as Rey toys with the hair at the nape of his neck.

She’s pressed against him in a way that makes it impossible for him to not wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close.

That sugar sweet taste makes Ben a little bit bolder, a little more greedy: he waits until Rey tips her head to switch the angle and flicks his tongue against her lower lip.

Oh. Oh. She melts a little at the touch, fingernails scraping over his scalp until it makes him shiver.

Ben’s never going to taste watermelon again without thinking of this. He’s always going to want to sip Rey’s mouth after a bite of it. Every hot, sweltering summer’s day, every crowded, fun picnic—Ben will eat watermelon and wonder where Rey is and how long it would take him to get a kiss from her.

The thought makes him shift a hand to cup the back of her head, hold her closer. He needs to take this kiss while she’s willing to give it, commit that sweet, hot flavor to his memory.

“Rey, can you believe that Ralph’s didn’t have—oh.”

Ben pulls away, his cheeks red, to see a Black man about Rey’s height standing behind her, his eyes scrunched shut with apparent embarrassment. He’s stout in a strong way, his dark hair styled into short twists, and his arms are clutched around a reusable grocery tote that is clearly full-to-bursting.

“Um…?”

Rey looks over her own shoulder and drops out of Ben’s arms with an unceremonious thunk. “Hi, Peanut.”

He gives a sheepish wave before squinting one eye open. “Sorry. Hi. I’m Finn. I’m the roommate.” He opens the other eye when he looks at Rey, pointing his thumb towards Ben. “Hot Skate Park Dad?”

For her part, Rey is unbothered; she plucks up another piece of watermelon and pops it into her mouth. “The very same.”

Though he returns Finn’s handshake, Ben looks down at Rey with a small smile. “‘Hot Skate Park Dad’?”

Swallowing her watermelon, she nods. “Yeah, I’m also not great at nicknames.”

At the end of the party, he leaves with Rey’s number, a plan to go out on a date the following weekend, and the lingering taste of watermelon on his tongue.

Rey’s expression is appreciative when Ben arrives to pick her up. He’d taken care to style his waves, picked out a hunter green button-up that complimented the hazel flecks in his eyes.

“Hi.”

Ben gives her a gentle smile. “Hi.”

She waves him in, looking pretty in loose-fitting jeans and a well-worn t-shirt and pale green flannell. “Come on in.”

Ben follows her instructions and takes a look around the living room again. “Finn out?”

Rey’s smile scrunches her nose. “He asked out Poe.”

“Oh!”

“Two days ago.”

“Oh.”

She tilts her head back in a gleeful giggle before pulling herself together again. “Anyways, he told me that he’s staying over there again, so we’re home alone.”

Ben’s smile is wider than he intends it to be. “You were right.”

“I was.” She leans against the back of the couch. “Pretty sure I’m right about you, too.”

The compliment makes Ben’s cheeks heat. Clearing his throat, he toes at the carpet. “So, dinner?”

Rey gives him a soft look. “Unless you’d rather skip it.”

Ben frowns. “Skip dinner?”

“Mm.” She takes two steps forward, putting them so that she has to look up, her expression gone sly. “And go straight to dessert.”

For a long moment, there is only the thundering of his heart in his ears. Ben looks at Rey’s face—at her freckled cheeks, her sweet nose, those pink lips—and nods.

“Forgive my language but: fuck dinner.”

Rey’s cheeks crinkle with the force of her smile. “Brilliant.”

The ease and confidence with which she leads him away from the front door and down the hall is one of the hottest things Ben has ever personally experienced. Rey is calm, smooth, bold as she steers him into a bedroom that is painted sunny marigold and white.

It’s spacious enough for what looks to be a king-sized bed covered in puffy, white bedding, as well as a small desk and a lounging chair by the window. A single shelf of books organized by color sits next to her desk, and the tchotchkes are also abundant here—maybe even more so than the living room. There’s a porcelain cat, a row of stuffies, a large bowl with Hello Kitty on it, some tiny crocheted animals…

Like the rest of the house, the impression is cozy, lived-in. Whatever a minimalist is these days, Rey Niima is definitely the opposite of that.

She shrugs off the flannel and drapes it over her chair. “Kiss me?”

And yeah. Yeah, Ben is happy to do that.

He gathers her up in his arms and cradles her neck, sweeping his tongue into her mouth without waiting another second. And good thing too: she moans her approval as Ben spins them around to press her into a wall and really lean into it.

It’s hardly surprising that he is already painfully hard. Pinning her against the wall with his weight alone, he grinds into her. They both groan.

“Clothes—” Rey cuts herself off to kiss him again. “Clothes off.” She can hardly seem to stand leaving his lips. “I need—”

Ben reaches down and undoes the button on her jeans, which immediately collapse into a deflated balloon heap. He laughs into her mouth.

“Your jeans are cartoonishly big, Rey.”

“I skate,” is the indignant reply. She pulls her shirt up over her head—

And well. They’re sweet little tits. Ben’s reply gets lost in the ether as he drinks his fill of Rey’s strong body, the confident flex and curve of it as she pushes her panties down, too.

He swallows. With difficulty.

“You’re beautiful.”

Rey’s smile is sweet. “Thanks.” In lieu of any other commentary, she cups the place where he cock strains against the placket of his jeans.

Yeah, Ben is… He’s not going to last long at this rate.

Placing his hand over hers, he squeezes, heat rushing to his ears, the back of his neck, his cheeks. “If you touch me, I am going to come. Guaranteed.”

Rey’s answering smile is pleased. “Guaranteed?”

“Oh, immediately.” He gives a sheepish shrug.

“Well.” She thinks for a long moment, her palm sliding up Ben’s fly—fuck fuck fuck—and to his shirt, her fingers finding their way inside between the buttons. “How do you feel about facesitting?”

Heart going at a gallop, Ben’s voice is a rasp when he replies, “In favor. Heavily.”

One of his buttons pops free. “Heavily, hm? Even though you wouldn’t be getting anything from me?” Another one slides loose. Rey makes a sound like she’s found something unexpected but very welcome before she leans in and drops a kiss over her sternum.

Clearing his throat, Ben replies, “I’d get to have you sitting on my face, which is more than enough motivation for me.”

Rey’s hum tickles against the skin of his chest as she continues pulling buttons free and mouthing her way up his sternum. “So, you’re one of those.”

“One of what, Rey?”

Leaning back just enough to make eye contact, she slides both her hands under the fabric, pushing it over his shoulders with a smile. “One of those guys who says oral is his favorite.”

Ben frowns. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Some people don’t like it.”

“Fools. Unenlightened people.” Unable to stand it any longer, he leans down for a greedy sneaky kiss. “I, however, have reached sexual nirvana.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that you’ve actually extinguished all desires?”

“Shh.” Ben lowers himself to the bed. “I’m clearly talking nonsense and need to be silenced.”

Rey watches with dark eyes as Ben centers himself on the bed and lies all the way back, giving his cheeks a pat with his hands. “Come take a seat, Rey.”

She purses her mouth around a smile before clambering up onto the bed. “You’re pretty cheeky for a man who’s about to be my personal recliner.”

“I’m very literally and enthusiastically volunteering for the position.”

Because she is a menace through and through, Rey crawls the whole way, pausing to fondle and touch and explore every inch she cares to. She drags her teeth over his thigh, reaches under him to give his ass a squeeze.

By the time she drags her wet cunt over his cock with a murmured, Very nice, Ben is ready to drown under her.

She takes very little time to get settled over him after that, lowering herself to a regal seat with very little further ado.

Fuck, she’s already so wet. Ben just opens his mouth and drinks it up, sliding his tongue where she’s drenched and needy, enjoying the way Rey’s breath hitches as she starts to tentatively work herself over him.

It takes hardly any time at all before she’s riding, using him for her pleasure. And Ben? Well. Ben could gladly do this all day.

His hands just fit so perfectly around her thighs, is the thing. She’s grinding, her hand tangled in his hair, pulling tight, and Ben might come? Just from this??

“Oh, fuck me, that nose.” Rey groans, her hips gliding over his face. Ben tips his chin up just enough to get his tongue inside and she whines. “Fuck.”

Please come, he thinks, sucking whatever he can get, I need to taste it.

Her speed picks up, so Ben just relaxes back into the mattress, gripping her hips as she works herself over him.

Rey curses and Ben loses the ability to hear because the best earmuffs in the entire world close around his head. He only gets two greedy sucks at what he can reach before Rey rolls off him with a moan.

But Ben has never been a quitter, and he’s certainly never left a partner without coming multiple times. No, he’s more of a 3:1 ratio sort of guy.

Yanking her legs apart, Ben slides between them and goes back to work.

Rey moans something indistinct, but her hand tangles in his hair, which Ben decides to take as encouragement. Sliding two fingers in, he gives Rey’s clit a sloppy lick; her answering whine is so keen that Ben feels his balls pull in tight.

What a beautiful cunt she has, he thinks, taking a leisurely pace up with his fingers as he sucks until she jolts.

And this position is more accessible—he can use his hands, make her come harder. And his hips are…

Well, okay. He’s fully humping the bed. It’s not, like… a steady rhythm. And definitely not a sexy one.

But his cock feels good as he works his hips, Rey’s soft bedding cradling him where he’s hot and needy, holding up Rey’s hips so he can suffocate himself in her wet cunt.

“Oh my god—oh my god—”

Okay, if the bed humping doesn’t do him in, the way she’s fluttering around him might.

Fingers twist in his hair again. “Oh, god, Ben, please don’t—I—oh fuck—”

This time, Ben is rewarded handsomely for his persistence: Rey clenches hard around him, her thighs clasping around his head, and something wet and hot and delicious fills his mouth as he works her through it.

Whining, Rey pulls his hair until it stings, Ben groaning in her cunt. She’s gorgeous and so perfect and Ben is going to drown down here and be so, so happy about it.

Suddenly his head gets shoved away. Ben rests his chin on a shaking thigh as Rey quivers.

“Holy fuck.” She tries to curl up, but Ben weighs her legs down. “Oh my god, I’ve never come like that.”

Still winded, Ben smiles. “Glad to be of service.”

Hazel eyes flick down to him. Rey’s still breathing like she just sprinted a mile as she smiles.

“Did you come?”

“Hm? Oh, no.” Ben rolls onto his side and glances down to where his cock is a bruised purple-red. “I came close though.” He looks back up and grins. “You taste really fucking good.”

Rey’s face goes miserable—pinched brows, eyes squeezed shut—as she yanks him by his arm. “Fuck you; get up here.”

She really is strong, because Ben intends to lay himself over her and somehow ends up sitting on the mattress with Rey straddled over his lap. She’s on her knees, so they’re not touching yet, but the impish grin she gives him as she starts to lower herself tells him that she knows how close to the edge he is.

“Hi, Ben.”

He gets one good stroke over her cunt with his fingers; it’s wet and sticky with cum and his saliva and fuck.

Ben is going to go insane.

“Hi.”

Rey reaches behind herself and gives his length a lazy stroke; the way she twists her wrists at the top makes his eyes flutter.

“You have such a beautiful cock. Has anyone ever told you?”

She pumps him again and Ben groans. “Yes.”

“Oh? Good.”

Because he’s a fool, he doesn’t realize the imminence of danger until Rey hums with pleasure.

She teases herself with the tip, tracing her entrance. Ben, meanwhile, is about two seconds from busting—just because he can feel the heat radiating from the cunt he lavished with attention earlier.

“I just think,” she begins, her grip around his cock firm as she drenches the tip, “given your size, that it might be wiser for me to take the lead.”

All Ben can hear now is a faint ringing in his ears, the sound of his own labored breaths. Fuck, she’s barely halfway and already a faint sweat has broken out along his hairline.

“Rey—”

“Ben.” She lifts his chin with a finger and smiles softly. “I’ve already come four times. You fill me up whenever you like.”

Groaning, Ben squeezes his eyes shut. “At least let me get all the way in before you try to make me come.”

Rey leans down, her tits brushing against his chest. “No, it’s more fun for me this way.”

She does get all the way down, but the slow, languid way she does it is absolutely going to end Ben. He watches her hips pivot, tilt, pull back, ride—Ben groans.

“Fuck.” Desperate for something to hold onto, he finds her ass makes for a great couple of handfuls. “Rey—”

Her lips drift down to his, giving him a sweet little kiss as she rocks again. “You feel good, Ben.”

Pressure gathers at his spine, but he tries to stave it off, hypnotized by the sinuous curve of her body, the grip of her cunt. Unable to speak, he turns his head and gives her a filthy kiss instead.

Hopefully she can tell by the way he groans that he is just pathetically into her—that he wants to discover all the ways he can make her body blossom. A body toughened by skating, strong from falls—a body that is currently driving him fucking insane.

Rey slides her hands down to his thighs, and yeah—Ben’s dick is not long for this world. She gives two long, glorious grinds before she rises up, only the tip of his dick still inside. Her eyes glimmer with something mischievous and dark.

“Have I mentioned that I’ve been practicing my drop ins, too?”

Two weeks later, and Ben’s not sure how, exactly, he became the sort of person who spends all their free time at the skate park.

“I’m really not sure about this.”

Ben glances up, nervous. He doesn’t know why he bothers, honestly: all three faces looking back at him are brutally unimpressed.

Rey tilts her head. “It’s just a little baby half pipe, Ben.”

Hannah crosses her arms. “Yeah, Dad. You’re not even going to do a rock turn or anything.”

Ben scowls.

Poe—who is currently flirting with Finn so hard that even Ben can see the man blushing—pausing solely to croon, “Need Daddy to come give you a push?”

“No,” Ben pouts. Reaching up, he needlessly adjusts his helmet—the ugly, custom-made orange one that Hannah hates.

“Just remember: your center of gravity is different because you’re—”

“Yes, I know, I’m big and awkward and tall—”

“That’s it.” Poe starts to unhook Finn’s arms from his waist. “I’m coming up there.”

“Dad!”

With a huff, Ben leans over his feet, tilts—

And promptly over runs his board as he stumbles down the bowl.

Turning to give Rey an accusatory look, she holds her hands up in surrender. “I tried to tell you.”

The board slides away, taking itself for a little swish around the curve, gliding to and fro until, with an admonishing gaze, Hannah steps on the tail and flips it up into her hand.

Ben’s gaze flicks between his daughter’s hand and her unimpressed face. “At least I didn’t eat shit?”

“This time anyways,” she replies dryly, holding the board out. At her side, Rey hides a laugh behind her hand.

“It’s better than I would have done,” Finn offers, and Ben decides to like the man going forwards since he’s probably going to be Ben’s only ally for the foreseeable future.

With a shared sigh, Hannah and Poe put their boards back down.

“Half pipe, pipsqueak?” Poe tilts his head towards the other end of the park.

Hannah nods. “Race ya.”

Finn points at the bench off to the side—the very one Ben had sat on the first day he met Rey. “I’ll be sitting here, stationary, and minding my own business.”

Once they’re alone, Ben gives Rey a petulant glare. “I told you I would eat shit.”

Rey leans in and drops a kiss on his cheek. “Objects in motion, Ben.”

He narrows his eyes. “I can think of several other motions I would prefer to wiping out on concrete that feels like the surface of the sun.”

“Ben,” Rey says, giving his arm a squeeze, “if you do the ramp a few times, then later today, we can practice our drop ins a bit.”

Ben scrunches his mouth around a smile. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Absolutely. Now, go make me proud.”

And, even though he’s wobbly the whole time, Ben skates back over to the ramp.