Summary:

Where Rey wakes up between a Kylo and a hard place, the caves fail to provide any answers but sure do raise some questions, and we reach what in writing theory is known as the Middle Moment.

Rey woke up feeling both horny and mortified.

She'd been having that dream again. The same one that she had before by the river, except this time it had progressed from hardcore making out to full on "en medias res".

Specifically speaking, she had been dreaming about bouncing up and down on a naked Kylo while simultaneously holding his mouth tightly shut with her hand. Why? Because, even when dreaming that he was buried in her to the hilt, he simply wouldn't stop talking. How is it that, even in her most depraved of fantasies, she still imagines her bondmate as being an absolutely insufferable ass?

Realism was a bitch. She could hardly stand him in real life, but couldn't her sex dreams have had the bare minimum of decency to make him more Ben than Kylo? Was that really so much to ask?

But now she'd woken up feeling needy as hell and having her other half's massive, heavy form underneath her wasn't helping her condition one bit.

He was asleep. There was that one small kindness. He was also… noticeably aroused. Maybe her dream had inspired him or maybe this is part of his normal routine and she'd never been intimately introduced to it until he was pressing insistently against her stomach while holding her tightly to his chest.

Her face is buried against his neck and she can smell his skin. Something earthy and male and inspiring as all hell. It makes her mind wander to places absolutely forbidden but entirely delightful.

Rey tucks her face in deeper, literally trying to hide her shame but that just makes everything worse. Now Kylo's breath is scratchy against her ear and all she can think about was when he panting above her, holding her down with tenderness and not restraint. His arm around her tightens even now in his sleep, tempting her to surrender to the moment and fall into his web of decadence.

Could she? Shouldn't she?

Maybe that would help put him in his place. Show him that she's the one in charge if she straddles him now and rides him until they're both bow-legged.

That could be fun.

What would it be like if she gave into this? He wants her to, their Bond wants her to. Kriff, even her own body wants her to.

An uncomfortable flush is starting to settle between her legs. If he wasn't her, she would take care of it herself. Fan her own flames like she has for all of these years.

But now she doesn't want to settle for second best. Why have a hurried and bashful self-session when she can have something better? Deeper? Kylo touched her in ways that she could never touch herself. Never had considered until that night.

Rey had zero doubts that it wouldn't be pleasurable. If she'd been able to climax before when she'd been in the process of losing her virginity while stranded on a dying ship and awaiting her imminent firey death, now should be a snap. Easy peasy. Push him down, shut him up, take what she needs. Battery operated boyfriend with a pulse.

Is it so wrong that she would want that again?

Yes. Yes, it truly is.

He had tricked her. Or in the very least, deceived her. But that doesn't make her itch go away.

Rey has no idea why she's thinking these things. Or why she literally has to keep squeezing her hands into fists to keep them from wandering down his body.

Or wandering down her own body.

Gods, why is she like this? Is it because she finally got a good night's sleep? Or is Kylo secretly influencing her? He'd sworn up and down that he had nothing to do with her dream before, but now she's starting to wonder if it is all his fault and he just doesn't know it? Like, maybe he's so damn bad at censoring himself that he's actually projecting his fantasy of her into her?

Either way, she needs to put a stop to this right this second before she loses her battle of wills.

Kylo grunts when she peels herself off of him, but he doesn't wake up. Even the sound of his voice is enough to make her quiver and she immediately uses the Force to help her dislodge his heavy limbs from around her. Gods, the man can cling. Somehow manages to be all over her everywhere at once even when he's asleep and so obviously distracted by himself.

When she pulls away from him he rolls over on his side, curling around the space where her body had occupied.

Rey frowns for a moment, regarding him. There was a time she would have taken this opportunity and done the whole galaxy a favor. Or, at least, there was a time she would have considered it deeply and seriously.

Now ending his life has less than no appeal. She would be alone out here. Might die herself in the process. Have to figure out how to repair the unrepairable on her own.

She'd lose her warm mattress. The big, moody behemoth oaf that had kept her safe from the cold last night even at the expense of the welts on his back. Which he'd also happened to get while trying to keep her safe.

For all those reasons and those reasons alone, Rey decides to declining killing him in his sleep with her lightsaber.

Besides, beheading an unaware, unarmed man with a morning wood situation hardly seems like becoming conduct for a future Jedi like herself. She's the last of her kind now, she needs to set an example.

Rey's legs are wobbly and she can feel an uncomfortable slickness between them. There's one surefire cure for that: an ice cold morning dip in one of the nearby pools will have to do.

She darts away to one of the smaller adjoining antechambers, gritting her teeth the whole time as the movement only encourages the needy throbbing betwixt her thighs. Then she drops her clothes, practically tearing them off herself, and dives in head first to a deep and inviting pool illuminated blue by the glowing rocks.

It's inviting only for a second, then the ice cold miserable needles sink deep into her skin, instantly robbing her body of its hope for a horizontal morning romp.

She comes up sputtering, teeth chattering, and with uncontrollable shivers racking up and down her spine.

That was… extremely effective. She's way too cold and pissed off now to be horny.

In the back of her mind her bondmate jerks away with a shout that she can hear echoing off every wall around him.

"Morning Kylo," Rey chirps, and, despite her teeth clattering together, she grins.

Aspiring Jedi or not, giving him such a rude awakening had been far more satisfying than she could have ever imagined.

Both of them had been rather grumpy at first.

Kylo had been particularly sour, glaring daggers at Rey as she flounced back to their camp with wet hair, damp clothes, and a knowing gleam in her eye.

They'd had a rather one sided discussion about their food options with Rey nixing every and all suggestion of his at killing and eating any of her named friends down here. Not that there had been any other than the Squiggles and the odd firefly like insect, but Rey was rather fond of the former and had no interest in eating the latter.

"If I see a fish, I'm getting it. I don't care if it's one of your 'pals' or not."

"Fine. Fish are fine. Maybe some of the others too, but not the Squiggles, they're… cute?"

Kylo had grunted, giving her a sideways sneer before stomping over to a glowing white mushroom that was nearly the size of his whole torso and carving off a chunk. They'd been eating them since yesterday without any serious consequences other than they tasted like dirt and had next to zero nutritional content.

He had been complaining endlessly about it. Rey was grateful to have a meal at all. Having something in her stomach helped to distract from the feelings of butterflies she'd had in there since waking up. Or the growing sense of frustration at the constantly branching tunnels which provided absolutely no sense of direction beyond 'I dunno, pick one and let's try it'.

So they just picked one. They didn't try to plan because that would require talking to each other and that had only ever lead to more trouble.

As their 'day' wore on, Rey had begun to feel very peculiar.

Her petty annoyance at his existence had faded, replaced by something far more overt and harder to ignore. Ever since last night, she's filled with these… these urges. This need to give herself to him.

Maybe their lovemaking has awoken something in her. Some deep and forbidden need to be touched more and more and more. Even walking close to him in the tight space of a narrow passage is enough to make her blood heat up. She feels different now. More gown up and womanly but also like every emotion is heightened more than it rationally should be.

If Kylo had noticed, and Rey was sure that he had at least on an instinctual level, but he hadn't directly acted on it. Indirectly perhaps. Just like hers, his own moods seemed to change almost randomly the further along their underground journey that they went.

By the time it came around to when they'd decided it was noon, purely a guess based on the growling of their stomachs and how many hours had passed since they'd woken up, Kylo had gotten over his sourness and gotten more affectionate.

Okay, Rey couldn't quite call it that, but he'd slowly been finding excuse after excuse to touch her. Simple, innocuous touches like a palm on the small of her back to steer her in a particular direction instead of using his damn voice like a normal person. And then the touch would linger or his hand would find its way to her shoulder and ever so casually rest there.

And she hadn't minded at all. That was the worst part. Normally she would slap him away, shove him aside and tell him to keep his filthy hands to himself.

Not this time, though. Now it was all Rey could do to remain silent, stoic, and not let on how her heart would skip a beat every time skin touched skin.

All because she'd let him hold her last night? She's been tired, okay? Emotionally devastated and feeling all kinds of raw and delicate. Kylo had been there but she could have as easily made do by hugging the stalk of a squishy mushroom and drawing a smiley face in it.

Whether he's following her thoughts or not, his hand accidentally bumps against her own and he catches her wrist as she stumbles over an uneven spot on the ground. When she raises an eyebrow and flaps her hand, trying to shake him loose, he simply looks straight on ahead and pretends like he has no idea what he's so obviously doing.

"Smooth, Kylo. Sometimes you really take after your old man, don't you?"

He doesn't answer, but there's a certain airiness to his soul that hadn't been there before.

Apparently sleeping in his arms had been triggering for both of them. It had made her horny and him clingy and needful. This is why Jedi were forbidden attachments. All they do is gum up the works of what had been a tolerably functional 'business only, survival only' relationship.

Not that Kylo had ever exactly agreed to it. That restrictions had all been on Rey's side, and he'd only reluctantly huffed and hemmed and his way through accepting her terms.

Now, as they walk together side by side, hand in hand, and his fingers just so happen to slip between her own, Rey is starting to wonder if he ever meant his promise to behave himself at all.

Things reach a fever pitch that evening.

They were bound to boil over at some point. All the stress and animosity and confusing lust… it was all too much. Rey hadn't wanted to confront Kylo tonight. Or ever. But then he'd done what he does best and stuck his foot in it and set her off.

It was their bedding that had done it. Kylo hadn't even pretended he was going to respect her wishes for a safe nocturnal distance. After she fool heartedly had fallen asleep in his arms last night he now seemed to think that one-time only event was a new constant.

He had spread their bedding together, creating one wider and thicker mattress instead of two separate one. That had been too far. He hadn't asked if it was okay.

Rey had stormed off then. A vague and flippant 'I'll be back late, don't wait up' was all she had told him, and then she spent the next few hours exhausting herself with practicing forms, pushups, crunches, or whatever else she could come up with to tire herself out to the point where she would sleep dreamlessly.

When all else had failed, she had simply paced back and forth, waiting for some revelation from the divine to come and help her get her thoughts back in order.

It never did, but blessedly Kylo is asleep when she finally returns to him.

He's laying on in her bed. Her bed. Not theirs. There is no theirs, just him and his big selfish ego. A cold piece of crisped mushroom is waiting for her, resting gloomily on a flat rock. He'd made a small fire, too, and it warmed the cool air of the cavern into something approaching pleasant.

Kylo had literally left the light on for her. She... Someone was finally waiting for her when she came home.

That single, nothing little gesture brings a pang to her chest and robs her of her next two breaths. Her determination wavers, but she can't let it. No, Rey needs to prove something to herself. She can't go another day without it.

Rey kneels next to him, sitting on her heels. She reaches out tentatively, pushing on his shoulder. He's heavy. He's huge.

She pushes harder. His eyes flicker open as she rolls him onto his back. There's a soft smile on his face. Uncertain, but he's glad to see her.

That's good. That makes this easier. Rey knows that she has to do this. She has to do this for herself. For both of them, really.

She leans over him, supporting herself with a hand on either side of his head.

And he's about to say something but she silences him with her lips.

She'd wanted her kiss to be angry. To hurt and punish him for being so utterly intolerable in every way. Instead, it's uncertain. She presses her lips against his and it's… nice. Really nice. The contact feels both electric and natural. He opens for her, the question dying on his lips as she nips at him.

One of his hands drifts to her shoulder, his neck straining up as she pulls away.

That had been…

"There. Nothing. I felt nothing."

Her lips are tingling.

"Rey?"

Rey pulls away, having to drag his eager lips back forcefully. "I feel nothing."

He stares at her incomprehensibly and Rey loses herself in his eyes for a moment. His pupils are dilated and his lips swollen, making him look positively delectable.

Then he cranes his head forward, kissing her again even through the doubtless pain of his hair being yanked as she tries to tug him back. His lips skim lightly against her, tingling over every part of her skin that they touch. She pulls him away harder then, fighting as much with herself as against his ardent determination.

Kylo whines, his eyes pleading as he relents and falls flat onto his back.

"Rey."

Emotions boil over inside her at her name. He always just… it's so reverent. So much longing said in just one syllable.

She rests her forehead against his, stubbornly refusing to look at him.

"I feel nothing for you, Kylo," she repeats. "Nothing at all."

His breath, warm and happy, fans across her face, and her lips part automatically for him before she realizes it. He next kiss is sweeter than hers to him, his mouth imploring but never insisting. Even his hands on her have a surprising delicacy to them.

Why in the hells is this so damn pleasurable? Why does kissing feel this good? This weird, wet skin on wet skin touch that people do that should in all logic be gross in practice is so absolutely divine?

"Kylo."

She doesn't know what she's trying to say, but she's growing dizzy every time she pulls away. The impulse to squirm and writhe against him is strong, but the second she does he gasps and Rey knows exactly why.

He looks up at her with a piercing intensity, cradling her face in one of his huge hands and Rey has to look away for a second to collect herself.

"What are you-" he begins to ask

"I don't know," she snaps, one of her hands twining with his other and half pinning him, half holding him.

She glares down, her eyes narrowing as her blood settles low inside her. Having Kylo underneath her like this is intoxicating. She could do it now, really live out her fantasy.

No one would ever have to know. That was a promise she'd made to herself up there on the ship when she opened her legs for him, but now it's still every bit as true as it was then. He could be her dirty little secret. She could take from him just like he took from her. And then, afterwards…

Afterwards she would still have to leave him, but it would be so much harder. Already the notion of being separated him is approaching unbearable.

She shouldn't have let things get this far.

That's it then. It's now or never. This is her last chance at this, before she falls any deeper under his spell.

She starts to push off of him, her mind made up, and his hands immediately tighten, keeping her firmly where she is on top of him.

"What are you up to, Scavenger?"

He doesn't sound angry. Suspicious, but not angry. So must not know yet and she needs to keep it that way as long as she can.

"Stay out of my head, Kylo."

How many times has she said that? One more. Just one more.

Her throat is tightening and there's a burning prickle in the corners of her eyes. His hands hold tighter when she tries to pull up, now yanking slightly in his need to hold onto her. When his thumb traces her lips she shakes her head slightly, causing him to frown then relent.

"I like it in your head, Rey," he answers. "You can't lie to me in there. Or hide from me."

That finally cuts too close to home. Rey jerks herself away, pushing back hard until he eventually has no choice but to let her go or risk hurting her with holding on.

With a deep sigh he flops back down and stares blankly the cavernous roof above him rather than look at her as she scrambles away out of reach. She scrubs at her stinging eyelids, rubbing them vigorously with the back of her hands.

"So that's it then?" He sounds annoyed but also every bit as weary of all of this as she is. "Are you done with me again for the evening, Rey, or did you ave something else to prove to yourself as well? Perhaps something about how everything is always my fault, including you throwing yourself at me then stopping when you started to actually feel something real?"

If she had been a better Jedi she would have simply shrugged that comment off. Instead, it sinks in deeply, cutting her breath short as she stares stricken at him. Kylo swallows, his brows pulled together, but he still won't look at her.

"Kylo."

He doesn't answer. He closes his eyes and sinks back to side of their Bond quietly.

"Kylo."

Rey won't have this. She's in charge. He doesn't get to get away with this.

She bends, intent on snatching his cloak right out from under him and using it to make a nest in one of the adjoining rooms for the night. His eyes snap open and he catches her wrist in a flash, holding her in an awkward stoop as she yelps and tries to leap back.

"You can either sleep here with me or sleep in the dirt, Scavenger, though I suppose thats hardly a punishment you're unused to."

He shoves her away with that as his parting barb, dropping her wrist and letting her fall gracelessly onto her ass on the cold, hard ground. Then he rolls over, turning his back to her, and for the second time that night Rey feels an impulse to run him through with her saber.

"I wouldn't stop you if you tried," he says quietly, drawing his cloak up around himself.

It's not a temptation. Right now Rey wants nothing to do with him, not even taking his life.

She gets up and, without another word, turns and leaves, ready to find someplace, anyplace far away from him.

Rey feels like slapping herself.

Or screaming and pulling out her hair, possibly with some sort of writhing on the ground in the fetal position added to that maneuver.

That would accurate surmise her current emotional state.

Erratic and blended with unbelievable sadness and regret. And shame. A whole lot of shame to top it all off.

This isn't her. Rey is no stranger to misery, but this is different. Something has intrinsically changed within her during her time on this planet.

The further she goes from Kylo the worse it gets. That part scares her too. She doesn't miss him. Their Bond does. She doesn't. Rey doesn't want him or need him.

He's infected her. Somehow Kylo has contaminated her. Done something to her to pollute her once clean and pure soul with this overwhelming need to… to let him have her. Let him love her. Love her body and love her mind.

Rey doesn't need him. Not for his affection or his company or… or to get off this planet. The only reasons they had started working together was to send that transmission signal. Now the power cell is gone and with it their only hope.

So that reason was gone and now she's free. Kylo is superfluous. Goodbye. Good riddance. She can just keep on walking. Lose herself in this maze of tunnels and either she'll find her way back up to the surface on her own or eventually die alone down here. Would dying with him be so much better?

There was a time when she let Kylo be her confidant. When she trusted him over those who were more deserving.

She had told him then that she had never felt so alone. Now she has never felt so lost.

Gods, why is she thinking like this? What's happening to her? He's her enemy. Why does she keep losing sight of that?

A tear slides down her cheek, stinging poignantly in the chilled air. The second time in two days that she's cried, but this time it cuts much deeper than her panicked tears of frustration.

Who is she anymore?

Not someone she recognizes.

Gods, what kind of a person is she to long for such a monster? When this journey is over, who will she become?

Rey.

His voice is a soft whisper against her mind, one that's nearly drowned out by her steady sniffling.

She shakes her head, pushing him out further. This was a private moment, Kylo, and you're not invited. She's done more than enough sharing with him to last her a lifetime. He doesn't get to have this one too.

But it's not too late. It's never to late to change, her Master had taught her that. This was a mistake, but it can be fixed.

Rey winces sharply then. Their Bond knows what she's doing and its scared. That's all this is. Self-preservation all around.

That's what everything is about, isn't it?

She takes a deep, pained breath and forces herself to relax. Be meticulous. Meticulous. Little by little she closes tight their connection. She can't sever it, wouldn't even dare to try, but she can silence it. Block herself off from it so completely that it might as well not even exist.

Kylo at first is hurt but stubborn. He knows what she's doing but not to the full extent. He thinks she's being petty and will give in and come back around sooner rather than later.

Then his concern becomes alarm, but his reaction is muted. He thinks something is wrong and she's hurt and trying to hide it from him. He doesn't know how right he is, but Rey can't stop now.

It gets both easier and harder. Easier when she can start to hear him less and less. Harder when it starts working. Her head is getting quieter. No Kylo. Almost no Bond.

Just a few more pieces of her blockade to go and he gets it. She can see him, a hazy and murky and barely comprehensible image of him jerking upright. He shouts something at her, but its tinny and echoing then gone.

And then it's gone.

Rey breathes a sigh of relief. It sounds almost like a sob.

For one brief moment her head is her own again. No Kylo. No Bond. Just her.

Only her.

Quiet. Still. Static.

Empty.

No.

No.

This isn't what she wants. She'd thought it was but she was wrong. This is wrong. It's been less than a minute without him and she feels like she's in mourning. Like half her soul has been cast aside.

This is agony.

Rey reels in on herself, focusing on turning back time. She grabs a piece of her mental wall and yanks it away. I's not a big one, not one of the fundamental blocks she'd put up for a damned good reason, but it's enough. Just big enough for her to reach in and touch their Bond. Reassure herself that it's still there.

Kylo rages back at her, his anger lashing at her, scorching worse the heated chemical burns of that storm.

He's moving now. Even through her very limited viewpoint through the crack in her walls that she's peaking through she can see him stalking the many passages of the caves, searching for where she is.

He's not chasing her, he's hunting. Kylo has figured it out: both parts of her plan. Not only to shut him out but to leave him as well.

Rey knows, and it's not just a feeling or an instinct but she knows that if he finds her, she won't get another chance. If she ever wants to be truly free of him, this is it. This is her last, best opportunity.

So she puts the piece of her wall back. Leaves a tiny crack of it open around the edges. Barely enough so that she knows that, no matter how furiously angry he is with her, he's still there. And so is she.

And then Rey takes off running, springing almost blindly through the twisting mazed web of passages, giving no thought to her direction beyond getting as far away from her belligerent darksider pursuer as she can.

From the very corners of her mind she can feel hiss determination only grow all the more.

Tag, you're it.

And chase is on.

Next chapter:

Rey runs, Kylo chases, and neither of them play fair, neither of them play fair, and our duo finally prove that two people don't need to be in the same place as each other to give a fic an E rating.

Could it be that easy, though? Nothing is ever that easy.

Very long Author's Note:

So what's the Middle Moment? It's the middle point in many writing design theories where the main character must look within herself and address the core conflict of the story head on. No more dancing around here, it's time for that self reflection. And then said main character can either embrace the changes happening within them and grow as a person, or freak out and take off, sending their enraged and possibly aroused bondmate to chase after them on a merry pursuit through a labyrinth of caves on a remote alien world and setting the grounds for the next half of the story off on the wrong foot.

Okay, informal poll time:

I have a ton of new projects that I'm working on, many of which are fanfic related or fanfic-to-future-independent related. I'm feeling very scatterbrained with far far too many ideas brewing at once and I think what I need to keep my focus is to publish them on a regular schedule. Once a week has seemed to work out really well for this story, but since I have some more coming up I don't want to post all of them on Friday/Saturday.

So, my question to you my much-esteemed readers: what day of the week are you most interested in reading a story update? Friday/Saturdays are out since their reserved for this and an upcoming Rogue One series, so how about… Wednesdays to combat mid-week lull? Tuesday since Tuesdays inherently suck? When's a good day/days to aim for that would work best for you?

Also I wanted to give out a special thanks to all the people here who have commented on this story:

One of the most frustrating things on that I keep hoping they change is the lack of an ability to reply to comments. That's a big part of the fanfiction communities on tumblr and archive of our own, but here the only way I can is to send a private message (kind of weird) and only for certain users. On AO3 I like to have an ongoing back and forth dialogue with my readers but here, since that's just not possible, I wanted to think everyone who's stuck with this story. Please know that, even though I can't properly respond to you and I wish I could, I read every one of your comments and they men the world to me so THANK YOU ALL for taking the time to make my day! :) 333

Next chapter:

Rey flees, Kylo chases, and our story gets one step closer to earning its 'E' rating.