A/N: This is a bit of a departure for me, so please know it's a tad different. It will still have a happy ending, but Kylo Ren is the dark side walking horror show that TFA hinted at.
"Plutt" he says in acknowledgement of the repugnant pimp.
"Ren! Always good to see you."
"Hmmm," he responds blandly. He only comes here because the wares never balk at his … requirements. They never blink an eye at his gloves and mask and that's all that matters to him.
His master bids him take care of his urges so this is what he does. That he's always left hollow is just because of the pull to the light. No one would want something real, anyway. Not with him.
Before he'd found this place after a particularly ugly day out in the desert, it was always difficult. The whores would try to jockey for position, a position forever closed. So, he's always come back to this detestable hovel. No tedious explanations or women who want to seduce Lord Ren. They're too beaten down to try.
"Got a new girl. Still fresh and tight. You're her first customer of the night."
"Fine," Kylo sighs. He truly doesn't care. He just wants to come and he's tired of his own hand. Besides, it breaks up the monotony of his life, even if he's left disgusted.
"Right this way, m'Lord," the obsequious toad says with a flourish of his hand.
Kylo nearly yawns behind his mask. He rarely sleeps, but his recent missions have left him particularly drained. He hates when he has to handle innocents.
He's pleased to find her already naked and waiting, scrubbed clean, still pink from the bath. Sometimes they try to talk with him and he detests that. But here she is in the dirty little room, mercifully free of the stink of sex, presented on all fours, her face obediently facing forward. Good. He won't have to even try not to think.
But then she turns and her eyes land on his. They flit away immediately, and he's not sure how she could sense right where to look. All he knows is something strikes him, deep in his core. He can't even breathe through the crater that's opened up in his chest.
He must just be being tormented by the pull to the light. That's all it is. But as he undoes his trousers, he wants her eyes, more than anything. Wants to see her so badly he can't even bother to wonder why.
"Look at me," he growls. She shudders and for one yawning chasm of a moment, he thinks she'll refuse him. He should want to reprimand her, but instead his whole being pleads for her to look at him. Please just look at him.
Then her head swivels, and there they are, those fathomless eyes, steely and full of repugnance. But under that, he sees … Oh how he sees the girl she could have been, pleading and vulnerable. The tumultuous turn of green and gold and brown, they do something to him, something new. Something terrifying.
He pumps himself a few times to get ready, following his usual routine, but she's still looking at him. Accusation bores into him as surely as her penetrating stare and he snarls, "Face forward."
For an eternal second, she holds his eyes, and he's not sure anyone has hated him more than he hates himself, not until this girl's gaze tears into him. But then she's doing as he bid and he already misses her eyes.
What's happening to him?
He doesn't even try to enter her, just runs from the room, something deep and pulsing licking at his heels.
"She's a tasty treat, isn't she?" Plutt leers and Kylo Ren feels almost ill. How many men have touched her? How many ways could he kill them? Usually the death he deals is perfunctory, but he would enjoy killing anyone who has defiled her with their obscene lust.
Pulling his credits from his belt, he growls, "I want her. Exclusively."
"Oh ho! I knew she was valuable, but not that valuable. Want to stake your claim before she's all used up?"
Just that, the idea of her being taken, those haunting eyes that told him everything without a word, it makes him want to rent Plutt from throat to groin. Instead, he tosses a small ransom at the disgusting creature.
"No one but me touches her. Including you," he adds with a flex of his hands, his ghostly fingers squeezing the oozing slime's throat. Just a bit. Just to make things clear.
His hands scrabbling at his neck, Plutt wheezes out, "No one but you, Lord Ren. I give you my word."
"And how much is that word worth, I wonder? I'll know if my instructions aren't followed and I'll be very displeased."
"I would never! She'll have a room of her own, treat her like a princess, I will."
He scans the worm's mind, finding no trace of dissembling and grunts his acknowledgement as he sweeps from the Jakku heap.
Kylo Ren tries not to think on her, remember those eyes but he can't and he's back within days.
He senses the new glances from young officers, who are usually too afraid of him to so much as look in his direction. Gossip flies faster than light on a ship and he knows his return trip has been noted. His fist clench as he catches a stray thought.
Lord Ren's found a bit of trim.
The paperwork is worth the satisfying sound of the lieutenant's snapped neck.
No patience for the dance of civility, he says nothing before he rips into Plutt's mind, quickly finding what he wants.
Her.
Flashes of her confusion when she's removed from rotation, the shuddering fear when her new place is explained.
But he never even touched me. What does he want with me?
-Don't know, don't care.-
What am I meant to do with myself?
-Not my problem.-
Then moments of her reading, one of the other girls begging her to fix the kitchen droid. A queer, warm feeling fills him as he sees her trying to grow something green in her room.
He keeps rifling through Plutt's memories, and only finds more stolen knowledge of the girl. No other men, just as he'd requested. Good.
"You followed my directives well," Ren says with a cool voice before throwing a handful of credits at Plutt.
He's about to stalk to her room when he turns and asks, "How many? How many have had her?"
Plutt shrugs, "More than you'd like, not enough to break her."
Rage coils in his belly and he wonders how long it will be before he kills them all …
She startles when he walks in, and once again, her eyes find his. It's a strange experience. Those that dare to meet his eyes never manage to actually catch his gaze. But somehow, she stares right into him. Even Hux is always looking slightly to the left.
"L-Lord Ren," she stutters out, gaining her feet swiftly.
Before he responds, she's already disrobing and he cringes beneath his mask. Why, why doesn't he just want her on her knees?
"Wait," he rumbles.
Her hand pauses at her breast band, already having removed her shift. She's standing before him in just her underthings and he awkwardly retrieves her garment from the floor, handing it to her, his eyes averted.
Even when he'd first had a woman, he'd never been so nervous. He could wonder why, but he just wants to set her at ease.
He feels her gather the cloth from his gloved hands and hears her redon it.
"Lord Ren?"
He flinches from the moniker and spits, "Don't call me that."
"What should I call you?" she asks with a shockingly calm voice. Why isn't she afraid of him? Why does that thrill him?
He's about to answer that she should call him Kylo, but his throat won't work and he finds himself saying, "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Alright." Her voice, her stars-be-damned voice winds around his vacant chest and squeezes.
She stands before him, shifting on her feet. Her fingers go to her hair, pushing a tendril behind her ear. It's strangely endearing and his hand lifts of its own accord. He never touches them except for the necessary contact. Yet … he wants to remove his gloves, feel her skin.
What is she doing to him?
His fingers ghost along her cheek before he flees.
"What's your name?" he asks in a gruff voice.
"They call me Kira," she says in a way that makes it clear that's not her name.
He taps his fingers on his thigh, wondering if he should let this go. Why does he care what her name is? And yet … he does.
"And what do you call yourself?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
Her eyes alight with fire and he gets impressions of a desolate life, full of loneliness, followed by the horror of the brothel. His lips curl as he moves away from those memories, afraid his temper will make him destroy her private space.
"Like I matter to you." There's a hint of a life left wanting in her tone.
And while he wants to find out more about her, he's left completely undone by the answer boiling up from his belly. She does. She matters more than anything. "You do."
She snorts inelegantly. "Tell me another one."
He's not sure why his fingers move to his mask, but they do, and he doesn't stop them as they press into the release.
Pulling it from his head, his eyes bore into hers.
"You do."
Rey. Her name is Rey.
Her eyes had been so wide when her name had fallen from her lips and he's not sure anything has been so precious to him. No … he knows. He knows that her name is the grandest gift he's ever received.
Rey. It tastes so good in his mouth. Rey. He wants to build monuments to her, make her name sacred.
Rey, Rey, Rey …
All he knows is that he refuses to hear it from Snoke's twisted lips. He has to be careful. To plan a way to hide her from his master.
Rey …
"Why don't you ever touch me?" she asks in that guileless way she has. They're sitting in her small room, now graced with fine silks and soft pillows, just as he'd requested. He wants her comfortable.
"Do you want me to?" he asks to avoid answering the question. The answer is bleak and tells her things about him he wants hidden.
She shrinks away, but then leans forward. "No … but … all this," she says with a wave of her hand, indicating the increase in her status. "I can't pay you back."
It hurts, more than he would have anticipated, that this is all so transactional. When was the last time his feelings were hurt? "I don't expect you to."
"Then … what do you want?"
"I want you safe and happy," he admits with honesty that shocks him.
He falls asleep that night with the awed look in her eyes calming his storm.
"Snoke wants to speak with you," Hux informs him with a smug look, catching him in a vacant corridor. Ginger irritant.
Ren nods curtly, striding away swiftly. It doesn't do to keep his master waiting.
"You have been … distracted, as of late, Apprentice."
An icy shiver twines up his spine and he realizes he should have just bought her. Freed her. But … but … but …
"I'll do better," he promises, folding her away as well as he can.
"See that you do," Snoke dismisses with a wave of his hand.
Kylo Ren is almost to the door when he hears, "Oh, and find a new place to rut. Plutt has … displeased me."
"Yes, Master," he murmurs, his mind already going a parsec a minute.
He can't know about her. Can he?
"We have to go," he rushes to say, already packing up her belongings. He'd disabled all the trackers, even masked the one in his belt that Snoke doesn't think he knows about. But he's never tried to hide something so profound from his master before, and his nerves are jangling.
Plutt had been easy to deal with. A handsome payment and a firm press into his mind had been all it took.
"What? I'm not going with you," she spits, her hands covering her torso as if to protect herself.
His mask is already off, and he tries to keep from grasping her, but his hands are on her biceps without his permission, making him want nothing more than to enfold her in the bare solace of his arms. "You must. He'll … I don't know what he'll do to you," he admits.
"Who? What are you talking about?"
He keeps thrusting her belongings into rugged sacks when he snarls, "You have to understand! My master, he … he'll hurt you, Rey."
Her eyes, Force, her eyes!
"What do you mean? Why do I matter so much?"
There, there it is. The question he can't answer. The question he won't answer. "Just get ready," he pleads, grasping at her.
But she pulls from him. Why wouldn't she? He's never so much as felt her flesh with his own.
"Why?" she asks carefully.
"Because … because …" How can he explain?
"Why did you buy me? Why can't anyone else touch me?"
"Do you want them to?" he snarls.
"No! No … I don't. I don't really want anyone to touch me. But … you … don't," she says with an oddly forlorn voice, her hands wringing.
"I don't deserve to," he whispers, finally answering her question from his last visit, when she'd begun to open up to him, just a little.
She moves closer to him and says, "I'm sorry … I couldn't hear you."
"It doesn't matter," he rumbles, pulling the last of her belongings into the last sack.
Rey looks around the small house he'd found for her. It's on a remote, backwater planet, nestled in a clearing, far from the eyes of his master. The towering trees feel like sentries, keeping watch over that which is most treasured. When he'd first located it, he'd felt a strange pull in his chest, where he supposes his heart used to be. The cozy cottage had felt safe. Like Rey makes him feel.
Her gaze flits throughout the little home he's procured for her and he's not sure what to think until she asks, "How did you know?"
"I'm sorry?"
"How did you know this is what I always dreamed of?" She wanders through the warm space, her hand pausing over one of the many plants he'd placed throughout her new home.
His mask is off, as it always seems to be around her and he has no idea what to say. He'd just … he'd just thought she would like this. This home he'd always craved.
Craved. Like he craves her. He wants to pull her into his arms, but he doesn't dare. She's too dear, too perfect. He can't … he can't.
Her face screws up in the most adorable expression he's ever seen when she requests, "Tell me?"
He scrubs his face with his hands before he finds those eyes. Those eyes that own him. "I can't."
Watching her as he lifts off is the only thing that keeps him sane.
"There's Resistance activity on Quol," Hux informs him.
"So? Send the troopers," Ren responds, annoyed to be interrupted, gazing out on the blue of hyperspace. He'd been lost to the fantasy of running his fingers, his gloveless fingers through her hair. Kylo has kept away from her, not daring to risk discovery. His imaginings have surprised him, and soothed him
Holding her hand. Stroking her cheek. Walking in the forest. Absurd notions that belong to another man.
"Supreme Leader Snoke wants you to attend to it. Personally."
His head tilts slightly. "Why?" he asks slowly.
"How am I to know?" Hux huffs and turns on his heel before striding away to the other side of the bridge.
Force damn it all! He hates when it's children. It's indecent. But at least he knows it will be quick when he's in charge.
The Resistance cell is holed up in an orphanage and his orders are to obliterate the structure with all inside.
Godsdamn it all to hell.
Rain beats down on his Silencer as he lands outside her little house. Screams echo in his head, the begging, Maker, the begging! He'd hoped that the precise explosion would have killed them all, but he hadn't been so lucky.
And so he's here, needing her more than he thought possible and so unworthy of those eyes that he wants to tear into his own flesh.
As he trudges to her house, it occurs to him that nothing is keeping her on this planet, now. She might have fled that first night.
He really shouldn't be here. But tonight … tonight he simply couldn't keep away.
The rain cleans to the blood from his gloves, but nothing, nothing but Rey can stifle the pain.
Soaked through, mask left in his ship, he enters the cottage to find Rey in a simple tunic and leggings, a fire raging in the hearth. There are bits of the forest everywhere, and she's twisted the silks from her room on Jakku into a vibrant rug that welcomes him with a calming sense he absolutely does not deserve.
Her eyes widen at the sight of him and she gasps out, "Oh!"
Then she's rushing towards him, as if she intends to embrace him, but she stops herself just before she reaches his drenched form.
"I was so worried," she says with those beguiling eyes broadcasting nothing but sincerity.
He blinks, not sure what to say. It had never occurred to him that his absence would concern her. He'd assumed it would be a relief.
"It's … it's not safe for me to come often. I … I'm actually surprised you're here."
Her head cocks in confusion. "Where would I go?"
"Wherever you want. You … you don't have to stay."
Rey nods hesitantly, and then she's wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, her hands lingering on his biceps. An involuntary shudder rips through him at the feel of her. It's the first time she's touched him.
Then his throat closes as she takes his hand and pulls him to the fire. She's … she's holding his hand. Her perfect little hand fits in his so well, and he wonders if she would ever, ever permit him to hold her. That's all he wants. Just to wrap her in his arms so that she's always safe.
She's in the kitchen, making tea, she'd said. And he cautiously removes his gloves. If he's the luckiest man alive, she'll touch him again. Let him feel her skin. But … can he allow it, knowing what he's done this horrific night?
It will pass. It always does, with enough dark meditation, the screams will recede. But not that shame and rage. That always stays with him.
With two cups of steaming liquid, she returns. He'd expected her to sit across from him, keep a safe distance between them, but instead she curls into a ball right next to his bouncing thigh, her body angled towards his.
"Lord R—"
"I've asked you not to call me that," he says as gently as possible through the wrongness thrumming through him. He knows the name he longs to hear in her lilting voice. But … but he's not sure what that would do to all of his carefully built walls.
"Yes. Of course. I'm sorry."
He grimaces at her apology. "Don't apologize to me. Never to me," he says in barely a whisper.
She just looks at him. Looks into him. "What happened?" Her voice is so soft, so inviting.
Then her tentative, small hand curls around his bare fingers and he almost starts to cry. When was the last time anyone had reached out to him with such gentleness? Such care? And the feeling, gods, the feeling of her skin against his … it's more intimate than anything he could have even conceived of.
He never answers her, but she also doesn't remove her hand and their fingers twine together, learn each other. Just the feel of her flesh pressed close to his makes him vibrate with a tension he never wants released.
Their fingers never stop dancing until the sun comes up.
A/N: Thank you ArtemiseBare for continuing to put up with me. And thank you to Silvergrain for helping me polish this up!
Thank you, Readers! It means so much to me that you gave this a shot! I don't see it being longer than 2-3 chapters as I have enough WIPs, so don't worry. This won't take me from 'Lovesick', 'Tethered,' or finally finishing 'Unbidden.