A/N: And now, for something completely different.

Rey's perspective

Rey drowsily opened her eyes some hours later, and peered over at the time. It was still early, early enough that she didn't feel guilty about not immediately rising. She sighed sleepily and snuggled back into Ben.

He was still deeply asleep, she realized. His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, his breath slow and peaking on a light snore. His arm was still looped around her waist, but loosely now, his hand resting lightly on the crest of her hip.

With a growing smile, she raised her head just enough to look at him. She'd seen him asleep before. She'd even slept in the same room as him before. But none of those times had been quite like this.

For the first time in weeks, the little crease between his brows was gone. His hair fell over the pillow in a dark swathe of silk. His lips looked fuller, relaxed in slumber. They were framed by several weeks' worth of unkempt beard growth.

Rey frowned. He had really neglected himself over the past weeks. A stab of guilt hit her again. If only she hadn't been so stubborn, perhaps it could've been avoided. But she was here now, and she wouldn't let him neglect himself any more. She had a life to live with him, after all.

She propped her chin on his chest as she continued to study him. She'd always found him striking, even if the other girls on the base preferred men like Poe. She'd been taken with Ben from the first moment she saw him. The force of his personality had only swept her further along, but as she'd come to know him, the real him, she'd been well and truly done for.

He was a bit awkward, especially around other people. He was introspective and brainy. Strong willed but unsure of himself. And utterly adorable, although she would never admit it out loud. 'Ben Solo' and 'adorable' didn't go in the same sentence, unless it was within the safety of her mind. And for all his distemper, he was extraordinarily sweet. He was gentle toward her, and remarkably intuitive regarding her thoughts and feelings. Well, she mentally amended, except for when he didn't notice my feelings for him. She'd all but broadcasted them over the holonet, but part of him still didn't quite believe it. He had horribly low self-esteem.

She'd never experienced love before, at least other than the love she felt for her parents. But this was something else. This was felt in every fiber of her being, and yet… it wasn't about her at all. It was about him. It was about making sure he got enough to eat, and defending him in the face of his would-be adversaries, and talking to him until the wee hours of the morning. It was about being near him, choosing him, and knowing the truth of his heart. It was about other things too, things she hadn't experienced, didn't know a lot about, but certainly wanted to learn—with him.

Her dyad. Her other half.

She'd meant it when she'd told him he was hers, and she was his. And she understood why he needed time to believe her. He'd spent years loving her before she came to love him, and there had been many misunderstandings between them along the way. He had reason to be wary. But she was going to prove herself to him, love him through it until he trusted her enough to open up to her fully.

She cuddled back into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of earth and rain. His particular scent would always remind her of the forest on D'Qar, where they had first started getting to know each other. She kissed his chest through his shirt, then curled her arm over his stomach and burrowed against him, sighing contentedly.

But the movement seemed to wake him, because he stirred beneath her. He snuffled sleepily against her hair, pulling in a deep breath as if about to yawn—and then suddenly stilled.

She looked up at him.

He was staring down at her through heavy, sleep-glazed eyes, but his brow was drawn low, as if he was mildly confused.

"What is it?" she murmured.

After a moment, he sagged back into the pillow and let out a long sigh. "For a minute, I thought I was dreaming," he muttered. His voice sounded like molten gravel. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, then let his arm flop back to the thin mattress.

Rey grinned. "I'm afraid not. You won't be getting rid of me that easily."

His brow furrowed even as a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Don't even joke about that," he grumbled, tightening his arm around her.

She snuggled back into him. "Allow me to rephrase that, then," she amended. "I'm not going anywhere."

"No?" There was still an edge of uncertainty in his tone. It made her heart ache.

"No," she assured him. "I'm right where I want to be."

He sighed beneath her. "Good."

There was a rustle as he shifted, and then she felt warm, dry lips press against her forehead. It wasn't exactly a kiss, but it was close—likely as close as he felt comfortable initiating, she figured. He rested there against her, the gentle puffs of his breath stirring the fine hairs along her hairline. His free hand came up to trail along her shoulder and down her arm.

She nearly shivered at the mix of sensations. He gave off heat like an ion engine, but the feather-light touch of his fingers on her arm left gooseflesh in their wake. The feel of his breath in her hair, the rise and fall of his chest, his heart thumping steadily beneath her ear… it was an intoxicatingly heady mix. And his lips…

She had a better idea for his lips.

His arms loosened as she rose up and braced herself on his chest, his eyes following her movements, equally wary and anticipating. She gave him a soft smile, wordlessly telling him he had no need to worry, then leaned down and found his mouth with hers.

He inhaled sharply, the whole line of his body tensing beneath her at the contact, and for a moment she feared she'd pushed too far too soon. But then his lips moved ever so slightly. They were impossibly soft and tantalizingly gentle against hers, and her breath caught against him.

When she'd rescued him from Exegol and first told him of her feelings, they had come together for a brief moment. Love had mixed with fear, relief, and pain to result in a passionate, emotional kiss. But it had been over within moments, as they'd needed to deal with other things too. She'd been wanting more ever since.

By contrast to that first time, this was slow and measured and careful. He was cautious, almost hesitant, as he returned her kiss. She could feel his steady breath against her cheek, controlled aside from the slightest catch at its peak. His hands grazed her sides as they came to rest along her back, and his lips brushed against hers so lightly they were hardly there. But the heart beneath her palms was thundering away.

Emboldened, she slanted her mouth against his as she threaded her fingers into his hair. His lips were surprisingly soft and pliant, and she found herself falling into them. She curled her hands around the base of his skull as she pressed closer, seeking more.

His breath hitched, and then, to her pleasure, he began to respond in kind. His hands settled more firmly along her sides, and he craned up into the kiss, his lips pulling at hers, slow and searching and increasingly desperate. The warmth of his palms anchored her. He'd rarely touched her before, and usually by accident at that, but now, he was riveted to her, fingers twitching reflexively as his breath caught at her ministrations.

She sighed into the kiss as she shifted and pressed flush against the line of his body, wanting to touch him, needing to be closer. There was a flicker of surprise through the bond, and his breath stuttered out in a harsh sigh against her lips. But then he was sucking in another breath, his hands fisting in the back of her shirt, and suddenly he was in charge of the kiss as he crushed his lips to hers.

Her hands tightened in the midnight locks as she fought to hold on. Stars, she could hardly remember her own name. All that mattered was his arms around her waist and his mouth on hers.

His hand slid up her back, catching in the fabric of her shirt on its way to cradle the back of her head. The other wrapped around her waist, smoothing across her bare flesh, tugging her closer—and then he was rolling them over, resting halfway over her in the narrow cot, his weight pressing her into the thin mattress as he renewed the kiss with purpose.

She gasped against his lips as something began to coil low in her belly. She curled her arms around his neck to pull him closer, tangling her fingers in his tousled locks as her other hand clutched at his shoulder. She wanted him closer, touching without space to spare. When he didn't immediately oblige her, she hooked a heel behind his knee and tugged—

With a moan, he suddenly broke her grip and pushed himself away on shaking arms, coming to perch on the edge of the cot with his back to her. He was breathing heavily, the muscles in his back heaving beneath his shirt. After a moment, he bowed his head and dragged a hand through his hair.

Rey slowly sat up, watching his back with a growing sense of unease. She hadn't expected him to pull away like that. Through the dissipating fog, her mind ticked over, replaying everything, searching for her mistake. He'd seemed to be enjoying their kisses just as much as she had…

"Ben?" she ventured after a moment. "Are you okay?"

He looked back at her and suddenly grinned. It was a surprisingly boyish expression, lighter and more joyful than she'd ever seen him look before—except for something in his eyes. There was a faintly wild look in them that she hadn't seen there before. Something nearly predatory. There were burning embers in their depths.

"Oh, yes," he assured her. "I can safely say I've never been better." He huffed a laugh. "What a way to wake up."

She smiled lazily. "I could get used to it."

He chuckled. There was a faintly hysterical edge to it. "Yeah, me too."

After another moment, he braced his hands on his knees and stood from the bed, crossed to the fresher, and shut the door behind him. She heard the water turn on as he went about his morning routine.

Frowning thoughtfully, she pulled the blanket up around her shoulders as she considered him. Something wasn't adding up. She knew Ben had his ways about him. He was intensely private and a bit awkward when it came to showing his feelings, but this was odd even for him. He wasn't one to shy away from things, so why had he practically fled from her? He'd played it off well, but he had fled, just as soon as he could.

She wasn't upset so much as concerned for him. Was he really okay? Was this another thing where she would have to build his trust first? Reaching through the Force, she searched out his signature, hoping to get a gauge on his reaction.

And bit back a gasp.

Though he tried to muffle it, his side of the bond was flickering brightly. Brighter than she'd ever seen before, like a star about to go supernova.

Interesting.

So he had liked it, but his reaction had frightened him. Or perhaps it had embarrassed him. The idea of opening up to someone was still a very new concept for him, especially when it came to baring something so deep and integral to himself as this. Her feelings for him were certainly deep and integral, so she could only imagine his feelings for her were the same.

Sitting cocooned in the middle of his cot, Rey decided to take every opportunity afforded her to explore those feelings further. In this way, too, she would gain his trust and show him how much she loved him.

And perhaps they could finish the day in much the same way as they'd started it.

…

Ben's perspective

Ben bent over the sink and splashed cool water on his face, then braced himself against the counter and took a deep breath.

He had to calm down.

The strength of his feelings had surprised him. He hadn't realized he wanted her so badly. He had always repressed those types of feelings, first because the Jedi denounced having romantic relationships, and then because he wasn't sure of how she felt about him. But he was getting a clearer idea of how she felt, now.

He didn't pay much mind to the Jedi teachings anymore, not after having seen the development of his and Rey's connection in the vision. Though they had never been romantic in the vision—at least not until the end, and then only briefly—their bond had always been intimate. She was more precious to him than anything else in the galaxy. If it came down to it, he would choose Rey over the Jedi Order, every time.

But there were lines he wasn't willing to cross yet, for her sake and for his. He never wanted her to feel as if he'd taken advantage of her, but he also didn't want to end up hurting himself. He wanted everything with her, but he was willing to wait for the right time. He couldn't lose her. He didn't think he'd survive it.

When he'd calmed down enough to deem it safe to leave the fresher, he found her sitting in the middle of his bed, wrapped up to her chin in the blanket.

He smirked at her. "Comfortable?"

She smiled and nodded.

"When did you want to start training?"

She shrugged, then began to unfold herself. "Soon, I suppose. As long as you're up for it."

"I'm up for it."

She stood up. "I'll go change and meet you back here. Sound good?"

He nodded.

She reached up and gently tweaked his beard. He grimaced as it tugged, but he obediently lowered his head at her coaxing and was rewarded with a kiss that ended entirely too soon. She swirled out of his room still cloaked in her blanket, and the door closed behind her.

He took a deep breath as he stared after her. He was going to have to get control over these feelings, and fast.

…

It was a good thing they'd resumed training, he decided, because they were both dangerously out of practice.

It wasn't long into the session before he was out of breath and sweating through his tunic, although the heat of the rainforest and the stiffness of his recent injuries certainly didn't help. Rey wasn't much better. They practiced with their sabers, then switched over to staffs, and finished up with some light hand-to-hand combat—a new addition to their routine. Ben reasoned that if they were ever divested of their weapons, they should at least be able to defend against attack long enough to re-arm themselves. He didn't mind the proximity it afforded, either. Those fleeting moments of contact were like little sparks in an otherwise dull existence. Blocking a hit, grabbing a wrist, twisting her around against him and forcing her to figure out a way to break free. It was all done for a reason, to help keep them alive, but he was loath to give up touching her when the session ended. The brush of her skin against his was embarrassingly addictive, and now that he'd experienced it, he doubted he would ever get enough.

On the way back to the base, he glanced around, checking their surroundings. No one else was around; everyone was either still asleep, or hadn't ventured too far from their berths yet. Taking a risk, he lowered his hand and caught her fingers.

He saw her glance at him out of the corner of his eye, likely trying to judge whether it had been an accident, if the surprise filtering through the bond was any indication. Then she interlaced her fingers with his, and gave his hand a brief squeeze. He ducked his head to hide his smile.

They walked the rest of the way back to the base hand in hand. He was content to hold her hand as long as possible, but when they started through the buildings, he tried to let go. Rey, however, refused to relinquish him.

"Let them see," she said. "I'm not ashamed."

He felt a flush creep up his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears. "I stand by my statement from last night," he muttered. "You're delirious."

"I am not. I am perfectly in control of my faculties."

"If you say so."

She gave him a look.

"By the way," she said after a moment, cocking her head. "I've been meaning to ask. Your beard."

"What about it?"

"Is it something new you've decided to try?"

He met her gaze. "You don't like it, do you?"

She pursed her lips, and then the truth came out. "No, not really. It isn't you."

"Why isn't it me?"

She looked away. "It… It just makes me think of the past several weeks, when you weren't eating, didn't seem to be sleeping, evidently weren't shaving… It makes me think of the neglect you've suffered."

"At my own hands."

"And mine. If I hadn't been so stubborn…"

He stopped walking and tugged her to a halt with their linked hands. She turned to face him.

"Rey, it's in the past," he murmured. "It's okay."

She swallowed hard, and squeezed his hand. "Not yet. But it will be."

They started walking again, taking the next turn into the barracks. A couple people walked past them in the opposite direction, off to their morning duties.

"If you really don't like it, I'll shave it off," he offered quietly.

He felt her eyes boring into the side of his head, then she pulled his hand up and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

They stopped at her door. "I'll meet you after I shower," Rey said. "Food, then uniforms?"

Ben nodded.

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. "I love you."

"Delirious," he muttered against her lips.

"Nope," she chirped, her lips popping on the 'p'. She grinned up at him, then disappeared inside her room.

He showered, taking special care to shave off the weeks-old beard, then squeezed the extra water out of his hair and dressed in fresh pants. As he was putting on his shirt, a faint knock came at the door—one he was quickly coming to recognize as Rey's.

He tapped on the control panel to open the door as he slipped the neck hole over his head.

"Hey—" Her greeting cut off in a gasp. "Ben!"

His head poked through. "What?" he asked as he pulled the hem down.

Rey's hands shot out to jerk the shirt back up. "Your side!" She glared up at him. "Did you never go to the med bay after we got back from Jakku?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

"Why didn't you go?" she entreated, her hands smoothing over the scarred flesh. "They would've done a much better job than me. This didn't heal well at all."

A tingle ran across his bare skin at her touch. He involuntarily sucked in a sharp breath.

"Is it still sensitive?" she asked, running a finger along the bumps and ridges. "Does it ever bother you?"

He shook his head, a quick, twitching gesture, but then he realized she was still studying the scar and hadn't seen him. "N-no. It's a little stiff sometimes, but it's nothing I can't manage."

She was standing so close. "We should still have a med droid look at it. There's got to be something we can do to help loosen up the scar tissue. Maybe oil massages?"

His breath came out in a gust. It was nearly too much to consider.

She looked up at him in concern, and he quickly forced himself to speak. "Y-yeah. Maybe."

Her gaze began to heat as she realized the effect she was having on him. "Yeah," she continued, trailing her fingers over the scar. "Maybe I can ask around and see if anyone has any oils or lotions from one of the Inner Rim planets. That would surely help it feel better. Skin on skin might tug a bit."

She was going to be the death of him. He bit his lip hard, and cut his eyes down to hers. She was smirking up at him. Oh, she knew exactly what kind of effect she was having on him.

"Tease," he muttered.

"I'm not teasing," she replied, still smirking. "I'm perfectly serious about the massages." She shrugged, and her smirk softened into a genuine smile. "So what if we have a little fun with it?"

He swallowed hard.

"I love you, Ben," she whispered earnestly, reaching up with her free hand to cup his cheek. "And I'll prove it to you, every day."

She let the hem of his shirt fall in favor of winding her arms around his neck. Standing on tiptoe, she drew him down for a kiss, slanting her mouth across his as her fingers threaded into his still-damp hair.

Eyes falling closed, he leaned down into the kiss, sliding his arms around her and gathering her to him. He relished the feel of her small, warm body against him as he kissed her back. The fact that he could even do this was staggering. He gently squeezed his arms around her, nipping lightly at her lips, and was rewarded as she pressed closer. This was… She was…

A little moan sounded in the back of her throat, and his control nearly dissolved. Exhaling in a rush, he tightened his arms around her and captured her lips over and over, kissing her deeply, druggingly. Her hands fisted in his hair as she held him tighter, gasping against him—

He forced himself to push her away by the shoulders. He screwed his eyes shut and hung his head, panting through pursed lips as he fought to regain control.

He risked a glance up at her. She was watching him with a glazed look; her pupils were blown wide, and her lips were swollen and red.

"Kriffing hell, woman," he rasped. "Neither of us are ready for that yet."

She regained her senses enough to cock a brow at him. "Yet."

He dropped his head with a groan.

…

Rey grabbed three rations from the mess hall, handed two to Ben, and then led the way to Ben's commandeered workshop to continue fitting the armored disguises.

But when they stepped inside, Ben paused. With everything that had happened, he'd forgotten that the last time he'd been in here, he'd raked everything off the bench in a fit of jealous rage. His fitted garments and her roughly-shaped pieces still littered the floor. He hadn't had a chance to come by and set things back to rights since his trip to Exegol, so the room was still a complete disaster.

Rey stepped around him and went into the room, hopping up on the worktop to polish off her food. She took in his stance, his gaze as it flicked around the room. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded unconvincingly, coming to lean a hip against the bench by her knee.

Rey looked around. "I guess the last time you were in here, it wasn't good."

Oh. She was talking about Palpatine. Yes, that too. He huffed a laugh. "No, not really. Though it's improved a little since then."

She gave his shoulder a playful shove. "Ben Solo, you are such a flirt!" she teased.

He laughed properly at that, eyes crinkling and lips pulling back in a toothy grin. He had no idea how to flirt, or even whether he had flirted; it would have been purely accidental if he had. But he was glad Rey found him amusing.

"So," Rey said, slapping her hands on her knees. "What do we need to do?"

He gestured to the armor pieces. "Figure out what's what, then get you fitted."

They knelt side by side and sorted through the metal fragments. He set his finished pieces aside, and she helped gather the rest and put them back on the worktop.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing.

He glanced back. Oh. "That's… my mask," he replied carefully. He doubled back to get it, holding it up so she could see it.

"Looks fearsome," she commented, cocking her head to the side as she studied it. "Did Rose's old comm end up working?"

He nodded.

"May I?" she asked, tentatively reaching out a hand.

He gingerly handed it to her, making sure she accounted for the weight of the thing, then stood back as she examined it closer. She turned it over in her hands, looking at the details he'd inlaid across the brow, then flipped it over and found the servomotor buttons. The helmet hissed open, and she tapped a finger on the comm.

Then she put it on.

Ben gaped as Kylo Ren's visage looked back at him from Rey's lithe form. The image was so incongruous that he didn't know whether to laugh or rip it off her and throw it across the room.

"How do I look?" she asked, her voice low and distorted. She struck a pose, putting a hand to the inlaid brow as she arched her back and looked skyward. "Formidable? Frightening? Devastatingly beautiful?"

Bemusedly, he reached out and activated the servomotors, then lifted the helm off her head. Her hazel eyes sparkled up at him with suppressed laughter.

"All of the above," he murmured, setting the helmet aside.

She lifted up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then smiled as she trailed a finger down the freshly-shaved skin. "Let's get to work."

A/N: That last scene with the mask was inspired by a cute little drawing I saw online. Not sure who the artist was, but I thought it was adorable!