11/19/1

It's playtime. Rey's thinking to herself later that evening.

See, the thing about winning a large amount of money at a casino is that said casino will then do everything in its power, short of just grabbing you, to make sure that money stays inside the casino.

Once they'd gotten the funds transferred, (which took a tad more Force talent than it should have. The manager was more than happy to suggest that they could use the casino's vaults, no need to transfer the money to Rey's account. One look, a little nudge, and that money moved.) the manager assigns someone to not exactly hover over them, but there's this very attractive person with a voice like liquid sin suggesting that they've got shows, and restaurants, and a spa, several clubs, and do they want anything else to drink, and maybe Mr. Amidala would like a suit that actually fits, and…

If there's any possible way to get that money back into their coffers, they're all over it.

Kylo's more or less just flowing with it. They won 1.28 million. They were aiming for a million. So… that's a lot of money to play with. He figures that as long as they don't hit the games again they can do anything and everything even vaguely interesting and not blow through a tenth of what's left.

So… It's been… gods… more than two decades since he went to a show, and, yes, the memories are fuzzy, but he's fairly sure he liked that back in the day. He knows he enjoys reading plays, when he has the time. So, he wouldn't be averse to doing it again. And if clubs means what he thinks it does, that means dancing is an option again, and he's really not averse to seeing Rey shimmy and bounce in this outfit or one similar to it.

Plus, if he can get a suit that actually fits him, and is in a color he feels comfortable in... Rey catches that line of thought and just looks at him. Not black.

I like black.

I know, Master Ren, but if you go wandering about out there in head to toe black, you might as well just drop the spell and use your real name.

His eyes narrow. She's got a point. Green?

You look good in green. She can see the color he's thinking of. Not slightly greenish black.

Kylo doesn't actually pout at that.

"Look, sitting around watching him pick out colors with a tailor is boring. I promise you, Mr. Atherson won't let him pick bad colors, so you don't need to hover."

Unni. Their 'hostess' is named Unni. Her primary job seems to be getting every single one of those credits they won back into the casino.

And right now, since Kylo's decided that he wouldn't mind a suit that fits, or more specifically one in a color he likes, because the clothing on his body right now is comfortable enough, physically, Unni's working on finding a way to get Rey to do something that involves money flowing back to the casino.

"Have you been to our spa?"

Rey's not entirely sure what a spa is. "Pools?"

"Oh, honey! Well, yes, there are pools, too. Every temperature you can imagine, and some smaller private ones, too." She flashes them a little smile. "Honeymooners tend to like them. But, no that's not all," she's wrapping an arm around Rey, edging her toward the elevator.

Rey's debating stopping her dead or just going along with it.

Kylo mentally shrugs at her. Watching me pick out colors will be boring. Might as well see if you like whatever this is.

You don't know.

Pools would have been my best guess, too. Worst comes to worst, you don't like it and leave.

Rey sighs a little. It's playtime.

Kylo nods. So, go see if you like the game.

Unni gets Rey up to the roof of the Excelsior. And yes, there are pools. Five of them. All laid out to look like natural ponds cascading into each other, surrounded by some sort of green plants, keeping the rest of the roof out of view, save for a few paths leading off of them.

"This is the main soaking area."

That makes sense to Rey, there are plenty of people splashing, playing, or just laying around in the water. Some of them are on padded benches dozing near the water, some of them on floaty things in the water, and a lot of them appear to have drinks.

And… not much else. But not, like the lake at their settlement, naked. The women all have little skirts and breast bands, and the men are wearing some sort of shorts. They look silly to her. Once they're wet, they might as well not have them on, especially the men, those shorts go tight and translucent once they get out of the water. Putting clothing on your skin to get wet seems like it's not terribly comfortable to Rey, but… Local customs vary, apparently.

"I don't have… a swimming costume."

"That's not a problem. If you stick to the private areas, no one cares if you're naked or not. And if you'd like to join in these pools, just let one of the ladies know, and she'll get you a swim dress."

Rey's sure they'd be happy to get her a closet full of swim dresses if she asked.

Unni's leading her down one of the paths away from the pools. "Down here are the private areas." Rey notices the green plants form a sort of hedge, almost like a hallway, and as they walk, she notices that there are breaks in the hedges, fluttery curtains blocking the view of whatever's happening in those areas. She also doesn't hear anything from inside of those 'rooms,' so it's likely there's some sort of sound damping field, too.

They get to one that doesn't have a closed curtain across it. The break in the hedge opens to a space surrounded by the green hedge. Inside, padded benches and tables, in white and cream colors, and a bit further off, past the structure, there's a pool/lounging area.

"Over here, the pools are hot. The main ones range from cold to warm, but these here are for soaking more than swimming," Unni says, looking at the pool in this area.

"So, people come here, and get a soak, and…" Rey's looking at the benches, pillows, and padded tables… "Nap?"

"You could do that here. Most people who come here though opt for some sort of massage. The four-handed hot stone is very popular. Women often get their nails done. We have skin treatments. Eyebrow tinting, though yours are a gorgeous color, so I wouldn't mess with them. We've got hair and makeup people."

Rey's fairly sure she knows what all of those words mean, but she's not even remotely sure that she has any idea of what they mean.

"Done, how…"

Unni stares at her, and apparently decides that Rey's lack of cosmetics isn't so much a fashion choice as the limits of what she knows.

She shows Rey her finger and toenails. "The manicurist shapes them, and puts a lacquer on them so they're shiny. You can pick any color you like. Most women match their nails to their saree." She very lightly touches her eyelashes. "My lashes, skin, the dark around my eyes. We have people who will do that for you." She strokes her hair. "Unlike your husband's pretty waves, mine required time and work. We have people who will do that for you, if you like."

Rey remembers getting dressed up for Finn and Rose's wedding. She remembers them on the beach, trading clothing, and cosmetics and perfumes. Making do with what they had. She can remember Kaydel looking at her in her pink dress, grinning at it, and Leia braiding Rose's hair, and how… different… good… bizarre… it had felt to do that.

To take the time to go out of their way to be pretty.

And it's occurring to her, that pretty might not be anything Kylo's ever wanted for himself, he certainly seems to respond favorably for it on her, so…

"Okay."

"Okay?" Unni looks surprised. That was vastly easier than she was expecting.

"Sure. Let's try it all. If I say stop, they'll stop, right?"

"Of course."

"Then set it up."

Kylo's been back in their "room" for a few minutes when the tailor, Mr. Atherson, comes in. He doesn't much put Kylo in mind of Jon, though he was, to a degree, hoping he would.

This is much more businesslike.

Which he supposes makes sense. After all, this man is making him clothing, not designing the look of an empire for him. And, at least today, he's just a guy whose wife bet well, not the leader of what's currently the largest military faction in the galaxy.

Atherson has a collection of sketches. Different kinds of suits. They all look more or less the same to Kylo. He's not attuned enough to care if there's a scarf that goes over the coat, or if the cuffs on the trousers are five or nine centimeters wide.

"I just want what I'm wearing in a dark color."

Atherson purses his lips, looks at his book of fabrics and shows Kylo what he'd call light blue.

"Green. I like green."

"I have green."

And a moment later Kylo's looking at leaf, aqua, jade, opal, lime, avocado, chartreuse, and a few others he doesn't know the name of, but none of them are dark.

"Darker."

Atherson grudgingly pulls out another book of fabrics and whips out some colors that are indeed darker, in the sense of not being pastels, but they're also neons. He'd rather scratch his eyes out than wear any of those.

"Dark… Like black, navy, midnight blue, forest green… Not… intense."

Atherson comes up with a light jade green with a passable forest green print.

"Better." Kylo touches the dark green of the print. "How about this?"

The next color is forest green, with a lot of white dumped in it. It's… whatever you'd call pink, if it were green and white instead of red and white. Kylo can't imagine how what he's talking about isn't clear. There's just no possible way that dark green can be such an obscure concept. He stalks over to the bed, picks up the second to the darkest pillow, deep, royal purple, and says, "This! In green!"

The tailor winces. "Perhaps I could interest you in a nice deep leaf green?" He shows Kylo a swatch of fabric.

Kylo's looking at something he'd call, if he were feeling generous, medium green.

"Only if you dip it in black dye for a few moments."

The tailor's eyes narrow. "I don't think I'll be able to accommodate you, sir."

There are waves of frustration coming off the tailor, and Kylo can't quite get into why. He just wants a suit in a color that's not on the pastel wheel. How hard can that be?

"Look, I know there are dark-colored fabrics on this planet. I just bought my wife three sarees in a collection of nice, dark colors. Take some of that and make me a suit out of it. What's the problem?" he adds some Force to his voice, tired of dancing around this.

The tailor winces again. "I am not making a dark suit. I won't have my name on… something like that."

Okay, Kylo knows he's hitting some sort of local taboo, but not what. "Why in the name of the Force not?"

Atherson blushes, looking like he won't speak, but after a second he bites out, "If I make you a suit in a color like that, I'm letting you walk out of here looking like a whore trolling for cock."

Kylo's fairly certain by cock the man doesn't mean roosters, but other than that obvious linguistic mismatch, he's doing okay at understanding the idea behind the words. He swallows and licks his lips and decides that maybe he doesn't need a dark suit.

"Exactly. Only one kind of man wears a dark suit here. Unless you want to be propositioned, constantly, which is not going to make for a nice night out with your wife, find a light color! With your coloring, you'll look better in cooler colors than warmer ones. I've got a violet that would bring out your eyes. A periwinkle that would look amazing on you. That green," he points out the spring one with the forest print on it, "would look great. A dove gray-"

"You've got gray?" He can do gray.

"I've got gray." He flips through the swatches, and there's a dove gray with a subtle silver pattern on it. Kylo'd prefer something closer to charcoal, but he's fairly certain this is as dark as it's going to get, so…

"There. That. I can wear that."

The tailor sighs in relief. "Excellent choice."

Kylo sags a bit, also feeling relieved at not having to face a night in something called periwinkle. He's not even entirely sure what periwinkle may be, but just the name alone sets him on edge. He thinks for another moment. "I keep seeing men in pink, gold, and green, does that mean something?"

The tailor smirks a little. "Hangers on. Prince Rasilee likes that combination, and many men would chose to look like him."

"Anyone important favor gray?"

"No. Most men prefer vibrant colors to subdued ones."

"Any other messages gray may be sending?"

Atherson's voice is dry when he says, "Just a dislike of the colorwheel."

"I can live with that."

"Noted. Let's get you measured."

Once he's got a color, the rest of getting a suit set is quick.

For Kylo at least. He's just got to stand there and get measured, and ignore the tailor thinking about how anyone could possibly be this size and what his parents must have been feeding him to get him this tall.

When he's done, he focuses on Rey, wondering how her adventures are going.

He doesn't get any words from her, but there's a very content, lazy, pleasurable sensation coming from her right now, and after fussing over suit colors, he's thinking he could use some of whatever's making her feel that way.

She catches that from him and he feels Yes, come find me, you'll like this a moment later.

At the front desk, they find Unni for him, and in a minute, when he asks about joining Rey, she grins at him, makes a call, and then leads him up to the roof.

In the elevator, he can feel her really looking at him.

Really looking.

The spell hasn't broken, but she's cracking it. Too smart, too attentive, her job is reading people and making them want things. He's got to mind wipe her or figure out how to play her, fast.

"It's the scar," he says, with a big, stupid smile, trying to look as unimposing as possible while gesturing at it. He can feel the ghost of Han beaming at him for trying this. "The height and hair doesn't help, but Rey just about hit me when I talked about cutting it off, so I can't really change it, but really it's the scar. People didn't used to look at me like this, and wonder if I was him, until I got the scar."

He feels her relax. "Oh. I…"

He shakes his head. "No worries. It happens often enough. Sometimes, if I'm looking to get ahead in a line or get someone to pay attention to me, it's useful."

She smirks at that. They're quiet for a floor, and then she says, "Do you mind if I ask how you got it?"

He rolls his eyes a little. "Speeder accident. Cut a turn too close, and it took it out on my face."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. I could have done without that."

She smiles at him. "And what do you do when you're not speeding about, Mr. Amidala?"

Uh… "Rey and I run a school." He shrugs a little. "Actually, she runs it. I scout for students."

"What kind of school?" she asks, looking up at him.

"You familiar with the Church of the Force?"

"I know it exists. Not a lot of interest in that here. We're mostly Concordance of the Stars, here."

He doesn't know that faith, but that doesn't bother him. She doesn't know his, and she doesn't seem fussed by that, so they're good.

"We run a version of it. The Order of the Maji," and saying that, he really likes it. Feels like he just tripped into something important, something that will matter. "It's an offshoot of the Church of the Force. Small now, but growing."

She nods. "Are you Jedi?"

"No! The Jedi are dead." He hadn't realized he was setting up that trap until he walked into it, so he shuts it down, fast and hard.

Her eyes go blank for a moment. "The Jedi are dead. Of course. I'd heard that." The elevator opens, and they step out onto the roof.

He looks around, approving of the pools, imagining that right now a bit of a soak would be good, and the shorts he's got on under his suit look similar enough to what the other men are wearing, he'd probably fit in all right. Or not. His shorts are black. A quick glance through the guests shows him that none of the men have anything darker than what he'd call light blue.

The servers, male and female, are in black, and he does wonder a little, about that. But they were in black down in the casino, too, so…

"She's back here, Mr. Amidala," stops that train of thought.

Back here is apparently down some sort of hedge lined hallway, and then down another one, and ducking into a small "doorway" though he's not sure if that's the right word for an opening with a curtain to a—

And that's where all awareness of any surroundings besides Rey go fully skittering out of Kylo's mind.

She's naked, lying on her stomach, hair gathered up by her shoulder, on some sort of padded table, and there are two women, very pretty women, with curly dark hair, and burnished teak skin, wearing long black skirts and breast bands and nothing else, one at her head, the other at her feet, rubbing some sort of satiny-glistening oil or something onto his wife.

His mouth has gone completely dry watching this. He'd swallow, hard, but he can't.

The one at her head has her hands on Rey's upper back, and she's leaning forward, stretching her back, strong, soft hands caressing down her spine, and the one at her feet has both of her hands cupped around her calf, stroking up her leg, and at the sight of this all of Kylo's higher level functions have completely shut down.

The only head doing any thinking is attached to Kylo's shaft and it really likes this. He's just standing there, watching those ladies pet his wife, his eyes wide, breath coming faster, totally unaware of anything besides how fucking amazing this looks and how he's never going to forget this, and maybe if Rey were to flip over or…

That's about when he notices the giggling in his head.

Apparently, him standing there like a mute, horny fool is amusing her to no end.

He blinks, and realizes a few things all at once.

A: Rey is thinking at him, I take it you approve.

B: He is not wearing trouser with a snug leg. In fact, these trousers, and his shorts, are both rather loose, and made of a very light cotton and a very light silk. And, to make matters worse, his jacket is a very light silk, too. Meaning that part of him is standing tall and proud more than a few centimeters in front of the rest of him, because nothing is keeping it snug to his body. He quickly decides now's a really good time to hold his hands in front of himself, and make sure his forearm is keeping his shaft pressed against his hip.

C: When he said join Rey, he meant, go to where she is. Unni decided that he meant he'd like whatever it is they're doing to her, which, well, he does, but… Anyway, this would be about the time he's noticing that two other women have joined them, and they're setting up a second one of those padded tables, and they expect him to take his clothing off, and get onto said table, and just let them… pet… him.

D: Rey, having followed this thought process has gone from amused in her head to outright laughing. She says, "Could we have a few minutes on our own?"

Unni says, "Of course, just hit the button when you want the girls to come back," and all five of them shuffle out.

Rey's got a huge grin on her face as she sits up, looking at him. She's still giggling.

It's not funny. He thinks at her, sitting down next to her, slipping her leg over his.

She's grinning at him. Feels that way to me.

He rolls his eyes and kisses her shoulder, feeling the slip of her oiled skin against his lips, and this close he can smell the sweet perfume of it. He knows there's vanilla and ginger in whatever they're rubbing on her, but there's also a woody note, and some floral, neither of which he can identify.

He wants to eat her. Lay his lips and tongue on every inch of her skin. Rub his body all over hers. He wants to watch those ladies do that, too. He could lay there, stroking himself, watching them rub all over Rey… Not enough to spurt, just to… enjoy it… Maybe… If they… do what he thinks they do… he probably could… If Rey was okay with it, and… But if he's not right about what they do…

Are they pleasure specialists?

Her eyebrows furrow. Kylo?

Whores? He's not sure what the term would have been in Jakku for what he's talking about, but that one's pretty common. And, obviously, if the codes are so well established that Atherson wouldn't make him a dark suit… And they're wearing black, so… What services are on offer?

This would be the moment where it occurs to Rey that maybe more than just getting the kinks worked out of her back is on offer and that brings her up short. Uh…

Oh, now you don't think it's so funny, do you?

I… don't know. Four-handed hot stone massage. They started with the stones and then moved onto hands and… She licks her lips. This is suddenly a lot less funny, because talk about possibly misreading a situation. Uh… Do they… work with women?

The ones the Order hire do.

They do? And there's an idea that never occurred to Rey.

Yes. They work with anyone who wants to relax and/or feel good.

Why do you know this?

He's looking at her curiously as he thinks, I'm fairly sure we've been over you not being the first woman I've had sex with. And I know I've thought about how most of the women I've slept with didn't much care if it was any good for them.

Rey blinks. Oh.

I s that a problem?

Uh… No… I just… Didn't put that together.

Okay. So… What do you want to do? Because, honestly, if you like, I'd very happily lay here, watch, stroke myself to it, and then fuck you through that table when they're done.

Those words make her shiver. She can see it, him on his side, eyes hot and on her, fingers ghosting over his shaft, giving himself little squeezes now and again. She can see it here, now, real, the way he's watching her, the way his hand is lightly stroking up and down her back, the not even remotely subtle bulge in his trousers, because part of him really likes the idea of this.

Thinking about it, really thinking about it… Rey licks her lips. The ladies working on her are very pretty. The ones who were setting up the table for Kylo were, too… So… She can see him laid out, skin glistening, two gorgeous women rubbing all over him… She's starting to breathe a little faster, too.

And if I want to see them rub you?

He smiles at that idea, having followed the images in her mind. He's not at all troubled by laying out and letting Rey enjoy watching him get petted. I'm not averse to getting rubbed on, assuming that's um... part of the service. If they're just massage techs… I still wouldn't mind. I just don't want to… make things uncomfortable.

Is there a discreet way to ask this?

"I don't think so." He shifts around a little, tucking himself in as well as he can, and Rey reaches for that button. "Unni, can we talk to you?"

"Certainly," and a moment later she's back.

Rey looks to Kylo, who's looking back at her. You're the one who's done this before, you ask.

He doesn't roll his eyes. "Just… so we understand…" he winces a little, "but… what's considered appropriate behavior here?" He hopes that's specific enough.

Unni's looking amused, too. "The girls can touch you. You don't get to touch them. They won't touch your genitals, lips, or nipples. Other than that, you can negotiate anything you may want. Just remember to tip well for service above and beyond. And no one cares what you do with each other when they aren't in the room."

Rey and Kylo nod. "Okay," Rey says.

"Any other questions?" Unni asks.

"Not right now," Kylo responds. Though, after a second, the finds himself thinking, that if they're going to do this they may as well do it.

"A pitcher of those coconut lime drinks, just a little rum, put like… a quarter as much as you normally would in there, and if you've got some sort of treat sampler, like those little baskets of pickles and pastries from downstairs, bring them up."

"We can do that. Do you want the ladies to come back in?"

Rey says it, "Yes."

You sure? Kylo asks as Unni leaves, and he starts to undress.

Yes. We'll watch each other, relax, enjoy, and when they leave, that's when the hands-on fun begins.

He smiles at that, kicking his sandals off into the corner of their… He supposes it's kind of like a room, but he's never been in one with living walls and no ceiling before.

A little less focused on Rey, he notices the soaking pool, and the pillows, and how this is designed to be a sensuous little nest. The colors are cool and light, and there are small glowy crystals in the pool adding a flickering glow to everything. Above them, he can see the sky darkening, pinking up along the left side. Twilight.

Naked, he pads over to the table that's for him. It's firm with some give in it, and the surface is some sort of smooth cloth. Probably better if I'm lying on my belly.

I can't imagine you're the only man walking proud in here.

He smirks a little at that as he lays down. I'd imagine that's true. But I'm a lot less likely to be tempted to touch myself if it's under me.

She grins at that. Just save it for me. When we're all soft and slippery, I'll come over and touch it all you like.

He bites his lip. Promise?

Promise. She's lying on her belly, looking at him, eyes stroking up and down his body.

I might want you to touch it a lot. He thinks with a grin.

She grins back. Then it's good for you that I like touching it a lot.

The ladies come back in just as she's thinking that to him. They introduce themselves. The two working on Rey are Adra and Simmi. Coree and Leeth have him. Rey tells them that she's Rey and he's Ben, and he thinks his thanks to her for that. He prefers not introducing himself as Ben, even if that is the name he's using here.

Leeth is at his head. She sets up a little cradle on the table for his face, so he can lay with his face down, and also takes the pitcher of drinks, and pours some into a bottle, attaches it to the table leg, and sets a straw so it's near his lips. "That way you can sip as you like. The snacks should be up soon." With his face in the cradle, he can't see much of anything, and he wants to see, so he rests his face against the side, toward Rey.

Rey's on her tummy, too, and she's looking in his direction. The ladies who were working with her also set up a drink for her, and she takes a sip.

He has some of his own drink, and yes, this time there is rum, but he can feel there's not a lot of it. They should be able to drink the whole pitcher and just feel warm and loose, not ready to die the next morning.

Speaking of warm and loose, he can hear the ladies behind him doing something, and then there's are two warm hands on his shoulders and two on his feet and they're slick and that oil that smells so good is being spread across his back and he groans, loud, at the feel of it.

"Has it been a while since someone's done this for you?" Coree asks.

"Yeah." His spine pops in half a dozen places as Leeth presses down and glides her hands down it.

"Make sure we get a bottle of the oil delivered to our room," Rey says, as she thinks How long?

Five, six years.

So, not just sex?

Once. Kammun, one of my knights… He backs up I'd let it build up until I just couldn't take it anymore, then spurt my spurt as hard and fast as I could, and leave it alone until I couldn't anymore. Kammun pointed out I was even more of a bastard than normal the longer I went, and told me that with what I was doing I was missing the point.

So… Rey groans a little has her ladies start working on her hands. She had no idea her hands could even get tense, but this is just delicious, and that sound just lodges in Kylo's shaft. He wants to hear her make sounds like that, a lot. He's watching what they're doing, carefully, intending to do this to Rey again at some point. Did you get the point?

Maybe. Got more of it than I had before. Not as much as I've gotten with you.

She smiles at that, and his brain goes blank for a bit because the hot stone thing, which he knows he heard, but didn't grasp, is coming into play, and they're rubbing these, slick, hard, hot stones against his back and shoulders and calves and thighs and Holy FORCE that's… no words for that, but he damn well is going to find out if there's anyone on the Supremacy who does this because he really wouldn't mind it happening again.

With the exception of his bones and shaft, the rest of him is melting into a very content puddle of goo on the table.

He notices his eyes drifted shut, so he could focus on hot and slippery on his skin, and they drift open again, watching as the ladies work on Rey's upper arms, kneading and stroking, and yes, soft, strong fingers rubbing all over Rey as someone else rubs all over him is making him feel good on pretty much every level of good he can feel.

Why only once? Rey thinks to him.

Didn't care if I was a bastard after, and doing something he recommended to me didn't feel right after I lost him. That's darker than either of them would like for this.

They're laying stones on his spine, and his hips, across his shoulders and down his arms, and he feels pressed into the table with a good, strong stable energy. What do you think these rocks are?

Not kyber.

He can feel that, but there's a really nice, low buzz to them. Nope. "What sort of stones are these?"

"Smoothed obsidian," Leeth says.

"Volcano glass." Arda adds. "If you break it, it'll shatter into the sharpest blade imaginable, but shaped like this, it's perfectly smooth. And it holds heat like nothing else."

"You've got a lot of scars," Corree says, "is there anything we need to know before we get into this?"

He shakes his head, taking another sip of the drink. "Speeder accident a year ago. I've still got marks, but everything else is pretty much back together. You can do whatever you like."

Speeder accident?

Unni's too observant. The spell was failing, so I told her that it was the scar that made me look like him. My hair and coloring didn't help, but ever since I got in the speeder accident, people have stared and wondered.

Good story.

Thanks. She seemed to believe it. "OH!"

"Too hard?" Coree asks.

"No, just… oh!" She's got his foot and is doing… something… involving some traction, and a small stone, and he's got a sort of rippling sensation spreading from his ankle to his hip and… Really, he's got to find people who know how to do this because he can feel how doing something like this regularly is likely going to be very good for both of them.

"You're really tight, you know that?" Leeth says.

"I'm getting that sense," Kylo replies, paying attention to his body in a way he hasn't since… Since training to be a Jedi, when part of his meditations and letting go was also supposed to be about letting go of physical tension.

"High-stress job?" Coree asks.

Rey doesn't laugh out loud at that, and Kylo appreciates that.

"Unni says you're a teacher," Leeth says.

"She's the teacher. I find students."

"Oh."

I'm a teacher?

Aren't you?

"Rey, how about you flip over, and we can get to your front," Arda says.

And Rey does.

And that's when any thoughts of anything besides watching them go galloping out of Kylo's head.

A properly trained master is patient.

There weren't a whole lot of things Luke and Snoke would have agreed on, but that was one of them.

Now, it is true that neither of his masters were ever particularly impressed when it came to Kylo's patience skills.

But, it's also true that he's got something he's enjoying waiting for right now.

A lot.

So, yes, there's a part of him, a very insistent, hot, heavy, full part of him. One that's offering a dull throb with each of his heartbeats, laying under him, urging him to not be patient.

And, yes, in different circumstances, he could very easily see taking said part in hand, and making it awfully happy, but… still… patience. Even if he were lying on his side, stroking himself, he'd just be enjoying it. After all, there's something a lot better than his hand here, assuming he's willing to wait.

And he is.

Plus, by waiting he gets to watch the best show he's ever seen, bar none. It's not something that's ever occurred to him before, but now that it has… He's never going to turn down getting to watch beautiful women rub Rey. Nope. Never.

She's on her back, watching him, keeping up eye contact, skin flushed pink, gleaming golden in the soft light of the little glowy crystals. There's a line of those black stones down her torso and her legs, and the ladies keep rubbing her, and one of them is working on her chest, getting her pectorals, the other at her feet, and Kylo hasn't closed his eyes, or started rocking his hips against his bench but…

He feels caught between two poles of want. He doesn't want this show to end. He does want to get Rey alone, so he can get on that bench with her, and rub and glide his body all over, and in, hers.

Rey's smiling at him. She likes this game, too. Likes the visuals, both how he's seeing her, and watching him, laid out, cool white skin lit up golden, the contrast of his skin and the hands of the ladies working on him, his eyes heavy lidded, his body relaxed and his mind tense, wanting…

She licks her lips, filling him with images of her lips on all of his different body parts, and he grits his teeth, staving off his need, his want, staying here, between the poles, enjoying the different pulls.

The lady… Simmi, who was working on Rey's top side, leans down and kisses her forehead. Kylo's very proud of himself that he does not, in fact, choke seeing that, because speaking of things he's never thought of before, but now that he is… there are a lot of places Simmi could kiss, and holy fuck does he want to see all of them, but… Not part of the game. She gently presses down on Rey's shoulders. Arda, is removing the stones from Rey's skin.

"Okay, Rey, we're done. Would you like a blanket?"

"No. I'm fine." She rolls onto her side, settling in to relax and watch Kylo.

Rey doesn't touch herself. That wouldn't be playing by the rules of the game.

She does fill his mind with images of her touching herself. With her fingers playing all over her body as he lays there, watching, eyes half-closed, two women rubbing his back and arms and legs.

She's not sure what they think of this, but Kylo's apparently an extremely vocal massage client, who appears to be enjoying the hell out of this.

Or maybe they've worked with enough couples to get a sense of what's going on, if not all the layers.

He refuses to rub himself against the bench, but sometimes, when they rub up his back, or put their hands on his hips and press down, he gets an extra bit of friction, and his eyes will drift shut, teeth gritting, as the feel of it rocks through him.

Rey grins at him, enjoying that look, adding more images to his mind, delighting in keeping him suspended between want and need.

Speaking of things that had never occurred to Kylo, the idea that he'd particularly like getting his butt rubbed is exactly nowhere on the list.

Or that was true until two minutes ago.

Now, he can't for the life of him imagine why he and Rey haven't done this to each other before, and a whole lot. This feels good on levels he never imagined. It's making his back and legs let go of tension he didn't know they had, and his shaft is flushing, more than he thought it could, at the feel of this, and this really needs to join their regular playtime.

Rey catches what he's thinking and how much he's enjoying what the ladies are doing to him, and she adds a bright and happy image of him kneading his fingers into her butt, grabbing each cheek, giving it a good, firm squeeze, filling his head with what he'd be able to see in that position, and then adding his mouth to the mix, licking and kissing and…

He bites his lip. I haven't spurted rubbing off on a mattress in more than a year, and I'm not about to do it now.

Rey smirks. But you want to, don't you?

Holy fucking Force, YES!

"Ben, you want to flip over?" Leeth asks, voice soft. She knows he's not asleep because his eyes are open.

He's utterly unaware of her question, because, well, he doesn't actually answer to the name of Ben, and he's not paying any attention.

"Ben…"

Still utterly unaware.

"Mr. Amidala?"

Clueless, though he's vaguely starting to wonder why they're not rubbing his back quite so much.

Kylo.

Right! Uh…

Flip over?

He blinks, looking up at Leeth. "No, thanks, I'm good."

He's not about to roll over. Yes, he's likely not the only man to be standing proud here, but that doesn't mean he needs to have his shaft standing up and looking the ladies in the eye. Plus, he's sure that if they start rubbing the front of him, it'll be doing more than just standing there.

Or he will. He's having a much easier time not doing anything he shouldn't because he pretty much can't.

So… What did you mean more than a year?

Uh… It's a fairly fuzzy memory at this point because he was mostly asleep when it happened but… One of the almost dreams between us. We were fucking in the pool. You spurted; I didn't. I woke up, couldn't get my hand down my pants fast enough, so I flipped over and took care of it that way.

He lets her feel how desperate he was, tangled tight in his sleep pants and the blankets, rubbing hard and fast against his tummy and the mattress.

No dreams tonight. Just you and me and slick skin gliding all over each other. Rey's voice bright, eager in his mind.

He grins at her.

She sends him a bright, vibrant image of him rolled over, leaning back on his elbows so he can see everything she's doing, shaft hard and slick, and her sitting between his legs, her legs over his, perfect, unobstructed view of her delta, one hand wrapped around his shaft, the other one gently caressing his stones.

Fortunately, the ladies assume he's whimpering because they're getting a tight, sensitive spot in his shoulder. "Did you do any physical therapy after your accident, Mr. Amidala? There's a lot of scar tissue in here."

"Not as much as I should have," he chokes out. Giving himself an entire three hours to heal up followed by a massive flight battle, almost two full days of existential crisis, and then fighting for his life against the Praetorians counts as physical therapy, right?

Rey sniggers at that thought.

Leeth gets her fingers and one of the stones into a knot under his scapula, and this time he's whimpering because of what she's doing.

"Yeah, this shoulder blade is almost glued to your ribs. Here." She takes his hand, folds it onto his back, so she can get further under his shoulder blade.

He chokes again. This is not pleasant. He can feel that he likely needs it, but it hurts.

And, he'd have thought that having someone stab him in the shoulder with fingers and a rock would distract him from the dull pulse of his shaft under him, but… It's not. It's really not. If anything the endorphins are making him harder. Every time Leeth hits one of those really sensitive spots, he feels himself throb.

Rey's watching him, and he can feel she's drifted away from what's going on under him to what Leeth is doing. Light side healer instincts, apparently. "Can I join in?"

The ladies make room for her, and she hops onto the table, straddling his hips, and rests her hands on his low back. He can tell what she's doing, unpicking the knots in his Force, and the ladies are unpicking the knots in his shoulder, and he's biting his lip, hard, trying to keep himself under control, because he can feel this huge wave of building tension and is afraid that when it releases all of it's going to blow at once.

Let it, Kylo.

If I spurt all over this table, it's on you.

If you spurt all over the table, I'll help you clean it up. Then you can lick me until you're hard again, and I'll ride you all night long.

Okay, he's really not whimpering about what they're doing to his shoulder.

He can feel Rey's hands on his sacrum, gently pressing. Each of the ladies has one of his shoulders and he really hopes that if more than his shoulder gives on this, they don't figure out what just happened.

He closes his eyes and lets himself relax into it. He can feel Rey's energy thrumming about through his, moving to those tight, stuck places, worming in to unstick them. He's trying not to fight it, but some of those bits have been stuck for almost a decade, the ones in his head and Force likely longer, the ones in his shoulder date back to when he broke his shoulder in a fight with the Knights, and her running a lightsaber through that shoulder certainly didn't make the situation any better.

It does feel a bit like an oncoming spurt, but from Rey's side. He generally just barrels on into them. Or tries to push getting there off. He's more than familiar with the sense of building tension, of seeking a goal, but the centimeter beyond his grasp, almost there, so close, can't quite… almost… just… sensation, that's more of a her thing than a him thing.

But this is close. He wants it but doesn't, and his body isn't sure about how to get there, how to let go into it, and maybe part of it is being a little afraid that he'll spurt when he lets go, but…

He breathes, deep and slow, finds Rey's energy, meets it with his own, and follows her into those tight, dark, sluggish spots, breathing new life and energy into them. He can feel the spots in his shoulder that just sort of froze together, and he wonders what this is going to do for his fight, because there's no possible way he won't have more range of motion in his left arm when this is done, and that's avoiding things, putting a bit more distance between him and the swell of tension/need/motion/release… he's not sure what the word would be, what this feeling is, just that he needs to surrender to it.

Let go, love

And he does. And it crashes on and through him, and he's not sure if he spurts or not, because he can feel it through his whole body, this almost shuddering, definitely electric shift, pulsing through his fingers and toes, centered on his shoulder and radiating out, and then he's sort of half aware of everything going very quiet for a moment followed by some panicked sounds, and shit… he opens one eye, notices everything is black.

He blew the power.

But, he rocks his hips a little, didn't spurt. He's smugly pleased by that.

His shoulder's feeling awfully good. Come to think of it so is his hip, and the other shoulder, and that tight bit right under his ribs, where Chewie got him with the bowcaster, and… Actually, something pretty serious just shifted for him, and he's feeling really good in a now would be a really great time to get a nap sort of way.

Except, he didn't spurt, so there's still this very intense and needy sensation under him.

Just a bit tense, were you? Rey's thinking to him, amused, as the massage ladies tell them to stay put, and they'll be back in a little bit, once they find out what happened.

They've only been out of the room for a few seconds when the power comes back up.

Did you do that? He thinks to Rey.

I think they just fixed it. She lays out on top of him, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his sides. Feeling good?

I really am. How's it feel to you?

Soft and warm and glowy.

Yeah.

"Are you two…" They hear Leeth's voice as she steps in, "I'm going to guess you're done."

Rey lifts her head off of Kylo's shoulder. "Yeah, we are. Thanks."

"No problem. I'm sorry about the power. It's normally rock solid, but today it's just been off. They tell me the physical plant guy is stumped. Everything looks normal, but something just overloaded the system."

Rey can feel Kylo smirking under her, face turned away from Leeth.

"It happens."

"Okay, we're just going to grab the stones, and tidy up a little, then head out."

Rey rests on Kylo, feeling the soft rise fall of his breath under her, and the smoother, less tangled flow of his Force. There are still some dark, twisty knots in there, but not as many of them.

As she slides along through him, she gets another sense. There are fewer dark, tangled spots. That's what she noticed the first time she did this, knots of sluggish, dark energy, tight, unable to move or flow. There are just as many dark spots now, but a bunch of them have unknotted.

She brushes his hair to the side and kisses the back of his neck, noticing the ladies leave the room. The problem wasn't the dark, it was the gnarled scars and fresh wounds.

He'd been following her train of thought well enough to know what she's feeling.

She's on his back, and he doesn't feel enough like moving yet to flip over or give her a hug, so he wraps her in his Force, letting it cuddle around her. She purrs at it, feeling warm and secure, enclosed in the embrace of his power if not arms, a soft, wet thrill echoing through her.

And he feels that thrill, feels the slick need of it, and remembers he's not the only one with some unresolved tension.

Right. She feels herself hovering above him by a few centimeters, and Kylo rolls over.

"Hi," he says, nose to nose with her.

She smiles a little. "No cleaning necessary?"

He rocks his hips against her, and yes, he's slick at the tip, couldn't watch and feel all of that without some leaking, but he's not done.

Not yet. His hand trails down her back, settling between her legs, feeling her slick, too. Hoping to get messy with you.

She grins at him, then kisses his lips, first the top one, then the bottom, sucking lightly on it.

"Mmmm…" purrs out of him.

Her own purr joins his as she rocks against him, her slick gliding over his.

He bites his lower lip, inhaling, hard. All of the images from earlier cascading through is mind, he wants all of them, and, more urgently, wants her to shift forward just a bit so he can… "Unh!" shudders out from between his lips.

She did it, slipping him in.

Thought you wanted me sucking you.

She sits up, riding him. Been waiting too long. Just want you in me.

YES!

Slow and gentle and exploring and the rest of that… Tomorrow, or later, or…

Her hands are on his chest as she starts to raise and lower herself on him. He whimpers, relishing the friction, the all over wash of finally getting her body on his to go with all of those mental images. He grabs her hips, clenching his teeth at how good this feels. A different tension is building now, and this one is cresting fast. None of this three centimeters away stuff, he's hurtling toward this wave, submerged fully in it, in her, both of their hips moving fast, his feet on the padded table, giving him more power, more depth.

She leans back, back against his thighs, and his thumb finds her pearl. He's too close to his edge; muscles drawn too tight. His fine motor control is too shot to do anything but keep his hand steady, give her something to grind against, but it's enough. Between riding his arousal, her own, and his hand, it's enough.

His hips are snapping up at her, and she's bouncing, grinding down on him. Both of them moving fast, hard, burning. Now there's just need. There's wet glide, and heat, and tight, and stretch, and a fast, glowing, shuddering burst of pulsing dark light.

She falls forward onto his chest, and he falls back, laying against the table, legs splayed, muscles utterly limp.

Eventually, they catch their breath, and heartbeats slow down, and Rey's kissing his collarbone as he strokes her back.

"Playtime good?" He probably could have come up with a more eloquent sentence if he'd waited longer, but that gets the idea across.

"Liking it so far," she replies.

Notes:

So, every time I brush up against this, I get questions/comments, so...

How does the guy who just about has a panic attack when a strange woman flirts with him happily go fantasizing away about his wife with a bunch of other women?

Because for Kylo desire is dangerous territory when it's combined with manipulation. He doesn't like wanting when he knows it's being used against him. But right here, right now, he's just a guy having a *very* good time with his wife. No one's flashing boobs in the Master's face looking for a political edge here. (Maybe for good tips, but that's not the sort of thing that would bother him.)

And, of course, *with* his wife is the second part of this equation. This is something he's enjoying with Rey, who's also having a blast. If he were on his own, this would be significantly more stressful and a whole lot less fun for him.

I don't write demisexual Kylo Ren, who's only hot for Rey. My Kylo *likes* women. A lot. And, if he'd been Ben Solo, of Solo & Son Shipping, he probably would have very happily gone off and enjoyed a whole bunch of them in a lot of different ways. But, that's not the past he got to have. Likewise, he was not raised in a culture that attached any particular significance or value to monogamy. He was supposed to be celibate or near enough to not matter. Since sex isn't forbidden to Jedi, but *attachments* are, I'm fairly sure monogamy would be forbidden to them. Dangerous territory too close to the dark side and all that.

That said, when I write his sexuality, him, on his own, with someone not Rey, is a flavor of non-monogamy that makes him distinctly uncomfortable. He's likely never really thought through it, but he knows they're matched, mated, balanced... however you want to think about it. The yin to his yang. And him, on his own, with someone else would throw that balance off in a way he really doesn't like.

But him and her, and the fantasy of others... That doesn't bug him at all. Because anything with both of them, together, having a good time, makes him happy. He'll fight with her, fuck with her, grieve with her, rule with her... any and all of it, because the balance is between the two of them, and when they're in balance, anything and everything else is in play.

I don't think they'll ever go about making the idea of other people real, beyond say, having someone else help work the kinks out of sore muscles/watching someone else do that. But like the title says, this is playtime, and exploring fantasies is part of that.