The early part of their second day of Gidi Secundus is easy.
After glowing together, and getting a bit of a nap, and then a bit of a soak, they just meandered down to their room, and crashed. Travel, shopping, gambling, massage. It doesn't seem like that should be tiring, but it was.
So, slow, easy, tired and lazy.
Waterbeds are… interesting. Different from the air mattresses they both have. Not bad, kind of… squishy… wiggly… different. Neither of them are thinking about rushing out to buy one as they drift off to sleep.
Morning. Light and red glow behind her eyelids.
Rey's coming to the conclusion that, if she were to allow herself to, she might actually like being able to spend lazy mornings just drowsing with Kylo. Nothing to do, no need to move unless they want to.
But, eventually, even liking it, they hit the point of getting hungry, and wanting to see more of what's out there. So, eventually, there's getting up, getting dressed, (including fifteen minutes of both of them fighting with her saree. For as readily as she can put any sort of mechanical thing together, fabric and pins do not appear to follow that pattern. They get her into it, eventually. And then spend a moment staring at it, absolutely certain that that's not how it's supposed to go together, and then do it again. And again. Third time was the charm. Finally all the bits were hanging properly.)
Getting himself dressed, Kylo feels different. His left shoulder doesn't click when he pulls his arm across his chest, and he can actually pull his arm all the way across his chest. It's been… well, since Rey put the saber through his shoulder since he could do that.
He walks across the room to his trousers, feeling how his gait has smoothed out some, and…
He smirks a little.
Rey raises an eyebrow at him, she's dressed and ready to go. He's musing and getting dressed very slowly. "I know that flavor of amusement. Something funny about sex."
He smiles a little, picks up the trousers and walks back to the bed. Yep, he's having a much easier time, and his gait is a lot smoother.
"Uh… You asked about… Me visiting the Pleasure Specialists… And…" He's in the middle of the story, and decides to back up. "I'm walking differently, right?"
Rey nods. "Yeah. That thing you do where you sort of lead with your left hip, I'm not seeing it."
He sits down and starts to put on his trousers. "Okay. I'm noticing I'm walking differently after last night, and… Uh… I guess it was the second or third time I visited the Pleasure Specialists, and… One of them watched me walk in and thought, He walks like he's got a big shaft." He smiles at that, and Rey gives him a little smirk and looks down. It's just lounging around on his leg right now, waiting for him to pull up his shorts.
"Anyway. I caught the thought, probably blushed from my ears to my navel, and Kammon caught it, thought to me, Wouldn't want to disappoint her, so I didn't pick her."
Rey raises an eyebrow. "Uh…" She looks down. "It's big, right?"
"It's big in the sense I'm big. I've got two centimeters or three, maybe four on most guys. But… I'm not enormous. I'm on the big side of normal, and she was looking at me like she expected me to be big the way Phasma was big, you know, HUGE, biggest guy in the ship, and I'm really not."
Rey looks amused. "So, you went with someone else."
"Yes."
She's looking up at him. "And… uh… now you don't walk like a guy with a big shaft?"
"I never did. I was walking like someone who had his ankle and knee broken, and needed extra range of motion from his hip because the two joints below it never healed up right. Getting shot in the side didn't exactly help with that, either."
He stands up, pulls up his shorts and trousers, and takes a few more steps.
"Feels better?" Rey asks.
"Yeah. Even if women aren't necessarily wondering how well-endowed I am when I wander into a room, now."
She stands up, gives him a little shove, and then gently cups him through his trousers. A soft, gentle squeeze followed by her on her tip toes kissing "Big enough," to his lips.
He smirks at that, kissing back, before breaking off to go find his jacket.
They're at breakfast, sitting in front of a collection of fruits, yogurts, and flatbreads, when Unni comes to join them.
She doesn't sit with them, but does look over the table. Both Kylo and Rey have a bit of everything mixed into a bowl, and the flatbread on the side. From there, they're not entirely sure what to do next, because there don't appear to be any utensils.
"You rip a small piece of the bread off, and then use it to scoop up the yogurt," Unni says, and then looks at one of the breads, "May I?"
"Sure," Rey says, watching as she pinches a small piece of bread between her fingers, and scoops up a bit of the fruit/yogurt mix. It's a little drippy, but the basic concept seems to work.
"Normally, we eat the fruit on the side, with our fingers."
That probably makes a certain amount of sense, they're all bite-sized pieces, and like last night, some of them are sweet or savory pickles.
"So, what are your plans for the day? Can I arrange anything for you? Mrs. Amidala, you've still got appointments for hair and makeup later today, do you want to keep them?"
Kylo can feel Rey's not exactly sure she wants to do that, but isn't sure she wants to not do it, either.
"Been a long time since I've had a trim," he runs his hand through his hair. "Could probably use to lose a few centimeters."
Rey raises an eyebrow at him. What's a few?
Five, ten? It's getting pretty shaggy. I won't ask her to shave it off.
Okay.
"I guess the hair is still on, if you can get him in, too."
"We can do that."
Kylo's starting to get a plan for tonight. "You said there are shows here?"
"Several," Unni replies. "What's your preference, comedy, drama, or acrobatics?"
"Acrobatics," Rey says.
That's probably less plot than Kylo'd like, but he can deal with it. "Sounds good."
"I can get you seats for that."
"Dinner? What's a romantic night here?" Kylo asks, remembering Dad and Lando talking about taking their ladies out. They certainly seemed to enjoy it, and he's thinking that'd be a good plan for tonight.
Unni smiles at that. "I can get you set up."
"Do it," Kylo says with a smile.
It's… bizarre… that's probably the best word for it. Maybe, possibly, if she wants to dig deep enough into the memories hiding in her head, she can find a time when someone used to play with her hair. After all, it didn't put itself into those buns.
But she doesn't want to go there.
And it's not that no one ever plays with her hair. Kylo will wash it when they're in the shower together, and she loves that. His big, strong fingers rubbing shampoo through her hair, rubbing circles against her scalp. That's just lovely.
But once they're out, she rubs a little conditioner through it (stolen from him) and then combs it out, and pulls it back if she's wearing it up, and that's that.
This is really different.
And not unpleasant.
She doesn't not like it. It's just…intimate maybe. Opening… growing… in a direction she's not used to.
Changing. She's changing.
Literally.
The lady standing behind her, the very nice lady who is doing everything in her power to make Rey feel comfortable, has a pair of wickedly sharp scissors, and is cutting her hair.
She hasn't cut her hair since she had to shave it all off to deal with the mites.
She prefers it longer, so the woman's not taking a lot off, just 'getting rid of the dead bits' and 'making sure it's got some bounce and movement.' Rey's not sure what that last bit means, but… It doesn't hurt. And Kylo's getting his trimmed, too, so…
Okay, hair.
Hair is a thing, and it needs upkeep and… This is normal. It's a thing people do. Rose gets her hair cut. Poe and Finn get theirs cut. People do this all the time.
She can feel Kylo's intentionally not letting his mind brush up against hers. He's letting her be in her own head and figure this out on her own. Mostly. He's lounging around, getting his hair washed, purring contentedly, like the big black maomao he is.
He's not pressing her, he's just… showing off that this is something pleasurable.
Showing off that this is something they can enjoy, and still be them.
Maybe.
It does feel nice.
And half an hour later, when the lady's done drying her hair, it turns out that bounce and movement means it's been cut so that falls softly around her face and shoulders. Her hair is still dark brown and but it's a bit less straight, and a lot less severe.
An hour after that, long after Kylo's left to make sure his suit actually fits, it's falling around her face in soft waves, and there's a royal purple hibiscus tucked into her hair.
Rey doesn't feel like herself.
She's… pretty. Really pretty. Or, at least, that's what the ladies playing with her keep saying. They're talking about the color of the flower catching the greens in her eyes, and how her eyebrows are just so perfect and that it's just not fair that they naturally grow that way, and then the cosmetic lady is there, and…
"Slow down," Rey's holding up both hands, really not sure about this. "It's…"
"Too much. That's okay. I'm Kelli, by the way," the cosmetic lady says, extending her hand. "You don't normally do this, do you?"
"No." Rey looks at her hand, remembers the thing Kylo said about handshaking, and gently grasps it, and then lets go. Apparently that's been done right, because Kelli smiles.
"Okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Fashion, our bodies, the choices we make about how we look, that's all about making people see what we want them to, and hiding the things we don't want them to see. So, what do you want people to see?"
Rey exhales, long and slow. That's the question now, isn't it?
Kylo's standing in front of the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, eyeing a suit that he's fairly sure is supposed to be gray. He can remember agreeing to gray. Gray with a subtle silver pattern. Okay, subtle silver is there, but…
"Is this white?"
"You're colorblind, aren't you?" Atherson sounds like having figured that out, that the rest of Kylo is making a lot more sense. "That's gray. The official title on the fabric is chalk."
"Chalk is white."
"Uh huh."
Kylo can feel the man think colorblind. At least the damn thing fits properly. Alas, since it's a white suit, and since it's a thin silk designed to deal with this warm climate, Kylo's very black shorts show through both the trousers and the jacket.
"Is there a place here where I can get underthings?"
"Yes. Or you can give me an hour, and I can have some made. You'll run into the same problem looking for shorts that you did with trousers. If they fit your waist they'll be snug to your thigh, and if they fit your thighs, they'll fall off your waist."
"Fine. Make me some shorts that don't show through."
"I'll send them up in an hour or so. Button on the fly?"
"Preferably, no." At least, his current shorts don't have anything like that. He can't imagine it's comfortable to have a button there.
"How do you keep them closed?" Atherson sounds surprised.
"It's never been an issue," Kylo replies, dryly.
"Fabric preference?"
"Don't care. Soft. Just, make sure they're soft."
Atherson has a smirk forming at that, and Kylo's feeling a sense of trepidation at what might be coming his way, but… Worse comes to worst he goes without them. He's fairly sure he's not hairy enough for that to show through, but if it does, he can put his other trousers on.
"What do you want people to see?"
Rey's still thinking about it. She's agreed to let them do her toenails. If that's too much, she can just put her boots back on, and the only person who'll see them will be Kylo.
Again, like with her hair, this feels good. They're rubbing her feet, and scrubbing them, and gently trimming her toenails, buffing them up, and…
It's an objectively pleasant set of sensations. In fact, it never occurred to her until last night when the massage ladies were working on her feet that she might like having them rubbed, but at this point she's coming to the conclusion that foot rubbing is a very good thing, and she'll be quite pleased if it happens a lot.
And, as Kelli starts on her toenails, the royal purple with little copper sparks is really pretty. If it was on Rose, (okay, Kaydel. Rose likes pretty things, but she doesn't tend to wear them on her person, because pretty things on her person tend to get broken. Between her job, and Paige, who right now locks onto pretty things like a grabby, little tractor beam, pretty things just don't last on her.) she'd think it was really nice.
The floaty dresses on Naboo… What was she showing?
That she's a woman and a wife. That there was a distinctly female and distinctly desirable part of herself. That her physical body exists, and its existence is pleasurable. Just by walking around. Just by being. That she was enjoying it. Enjoying trying this new thing out, and enjoying Kylo enjoying it.
She was enjoying being desired, publicly. It wasn't just him seeing it, it was him seeing it in front of other people. So much of their life is hidden, and this was out in the open.
She was enjoying being his. Enjoying the marks on her skin, the ring on her finger, the feel of his arm around her. But again, not just those things, but doing them where others could see them. Not just being a wife, but being his wife, and other people knowing it.
So, why is this different?
She knows why, the hair, the cosmetics, the clothing. Everything is finer. His suit. The 'romantic evening.'
She's not dressing up as his wife tonight. She's dressing up as his Queen.
And maybe, if the potential for that being literally true weren't here, this would be easier.
But it is. And eventually, there'll be a decision she has to make. A moment where she'll be acting, not reacting.
And this can be playtime, and she can dip a toe into it, see if she likes swimming in these waters, but… Even setting her toe in feels like a change. Even acknowledging there could be a change is a change.
A big one.
A dark man grabbed her hand and pulled her away from blaster fire, yelling at her to run.
An orange face told her there was nothing left for her, not back there.
Burning dark eyes and an extended glove begged her to come with him.
Change and change and change…
She couldn't then. She didn't need the man who wanted to burn the galaxy down. But the one who's building it up…
He's met her beyond halfway on this. Moving with her to the balance. Offered her pretty much everything she could have possibly asked of him, and then some.
But it's still scary to be an illiterate desert rat faced with grandeur.
Okay, faced with what's in the box he just opened, compared to what's hanging on the hanger in his closet, Kylo can tell the difference between white and chalk.
These shorts are white.
He's seen freshly fallen snow that was dingier than these shorts. Staring directly at these things in full sunlight could cause eye damage. If there's a supreme ideal of white, this is it.
He's almost afraid to touch them, let alone put them on, sure he'll smudge them somehow.
Then he rolls his eyes at himself. They're undershorts, not some sort of art.
He pulls them out of the box and decides he may have been wrong about that. This is the softest, lightest, finest fabric he's ever laid fingers on. It's like touching the idea of silk. He wants to just sit here and pet them, reveling in the feel of the fabric between his fingers.
Then he realizes where he's supposed to be wearing these. As in what parts of his body are going to be wrapped in this fabric, and he struck with the fear that he can't walk around in these without getting hard.
If the point of undershorts is to keep him somewhat more discretely tucked into his pants than he would be without them, these shorts may have the exact opposite effect.
They're really pretty.
Rey's wiggling her toes, and the color shifts, royal purple with copper sparks, and then she shifts, and the light shifts, and now they're copper with violet sparks, and wiggling makes them shift from color to color, and just on the edge of copper to purple there's this line of… She doesn't know the name of the color, just that she likes it.
"Okay, do my fingers."
Kelli's grinning at her. "See, this isn't hard."
It's not, but…
Kylo's mentioned that everything he's good at, he worked for, trained, studied. A lot of the things she's good at, she's just good at. She picked it up and that was that.
And she doesn't know how to do this.
It's something she'd have to learn.
"Come, fail with me." You need a teacher.
She's never taken him up on that. Never let him teach her, because… That would mean admitting she doesn't know how to do something. She's been feeling her way through things he likely could teach her. Only asking for help when she'd hit something she just couldn't figure on her own. And part of that, something she thinks that matters, is not getting it the Jedi-approved way. Or the Snoke corrupted way. Part of it is starting fresh.
But part of it is not wanting to admit she doesn't know how to do whatever it is.
He feels a little foolish walking around in just a pair of shorts, but… This is not the sort of thing he wants to be wrong about.
Yes, pump enough rum into him, and he comes to the conclusion that wandering about with his shaft leading the way is just fine.
He's cold sober now, and intends to stay that way most of the night. (Though last night's warm and loose was actually pretty nice. He may want to experiment with that again. Possibly even tonight, but that's later.) They're going to dinner and a show. Very much not situations where he needs to be walking proud.
So, foolish he may feel doing this, but he'd rather be comfortable tonight, not looking for ways to twist himself into a position where his shaft isn't leading the way.
Okay, yes, this feels awfully nice. He's usually not really aware of his shorts. They're just there. A barrier between him and the rougher fabric of his trousers. He can't actually ever remember a time when he's been consciously aware of them.
But he is now. This is soft and silky and rubbing against him in a really pleasant way with each step, but… It's controllable. It's nice. To some degree it puts him in mind of the way he fantasizes about Rey between meetings. It's good, he enjoys it, but he doesn't put enough into it to give him a lift.
He's fairly sure he can ignore this easily enough, but, later on tonight, this should add an extra layer to whatever good things are coming.
He's half-thinking of ordering some more of these for himself, but he's also fairly sure Atherson won't make him black ones, so…
Okay, no. He's not asking Jon for silky undershorts. Just… no.
There are some things about him Jon just doesn't need to know.
He does call down and order more of them from Atherson. And if he's got white shorts, then he's got white shorts. After all, not everything has to be black.
"Toes done, fingers done, are we doing your face?" Kelli asks.
Rey's certainly noticed a lot of the women hear are wearing some substantial makeup on their faces. Darkened lashes, and kohl rimmed eyes, and lips of red or plum.
The cosmetic ladies and the hairdressers also have intricate designs drawn across their foreheads and on their hands.
It's not that it looks bad. She thinks most of the women around her are gorgeous. But… she can't see it on herself. The finger and toenails are a stretch and covering her face with thick makeup…
"Can we do something… subtle?" she asks.
Kelli smiles. "Of course. Especially if you don't wear makeup regularly, putting a lot of it on at once is more likely to make you feel self-conscious than pretty." Kelli's looking her up and down. "What are you wearing tonight?"
She's been in a plush robe since they began this. She'd been somewhat loathe to take the saree off, but they promised that someone would help her get into it.
"It's purple and copper, matches my toes."
Kelli smiles at that, too. "And is your man with the pretty black hair coming down here to get you? Meeting you at the restaurant?"
"Uh… I was planning on going back to our room."
She thinks about it. "Which room?"
"We're in 1514. Why?"
Kelli replies, "Because the first time he sees you all dressed up, we want his brain to short circuit. We want his tongue to feel too big in his mouth, and his eyes to glaze over, and for everything in the world but you to cease to exist for him. So… We'll get him out of the room for a bit, you go up, and then he comes to you."
"He comes to me?"
"Of course. He's a man. It's his job to go to you." Kelli says, "You wait for him. He comes to you. The other way around is… unseemly." The ladies all seem to know this as some sort of fact. Rey assumes it's some sort of cultural norm. That said, she doesn't mind the idea of Kylo's brain short circuiting. She'd certainly enjoyed when that happened last night. Watching that moment of him going utterly dumbstruck and then feeling his desire spike, hard was a treat. "If you were in one of the suites on the sixteenth floor, we'd shove him in the sitting room, and then he could go to you from there. Since you're on fifteen, we'll get him out of the room for a bit."
"Okay… So, what's subtle look like?"
Shorts sorted, suit suited, Kylo's got two hours to dinner, another hour and a half to the show. Rey's still… he seeks her mind out, and apparently they're doing something to her fingernails, so she'll be occupied for a while.
He's got time.
And, for a good minute he's looking at their bag, where he's got a few of his data pads, mostly financial reports, and some on his current troop retention levels and the like. And, of course there's the mostly blank one that he's 'working on his first anniversary speech' on. He could take that one out and then poke at it listlessly as words continue to not magically form in his head.
Or… fuck it, he's on vacation. He grabs Rey's library and goes looking for something fun. He hasn't read a novel or play in more than a decade, and he misses it.
In fact… He makes himself a drink, some sort of fruit juice and tea over ice, grabs the pad, and heads out onto the balcony. There's a lounge chair, a sunny spot, and he's going to spend an hour or so reading a fucking story, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop him.
As he sets the drink and pad down, he notices that they've got speakers up here.
"Why not?"
He fiddles around with the sound cube for a few minutes, and finds something soft and pleasant with an easy melody.
After all, he's on vacation.
Subtle is… subtle.
Very nicely so.
Rey looks like herself. Just, prettier.
Or more femme.
Softer maybe.
Delicate? That's not a word she often thinks of in conjunction with herself. Desert rats don't do delicate. Delicate things die on Jakku.
But she's not on Jakku. She's survived Jakku, outlived it even.
Her lashes are longer and darker, there's a fine line of gray around her eyes, just enough to make them look bigger and bolder, her lips just a hair pinker with a touch of sheen, likewise her cheeks are just a little pinker, and also kissed by a slight sheen.
She was afraid she wouldn't recognize herself in the mirror, but… She does. It's different, but… not a costume or a mask.
Kelli's behind her, grinning. "He's going to trip over his feet when he sees you."
Rey's more than doubtful of that. The Force won't let him trip. But she wouldn't mind if he stopped and stared a bit.
"Do you need help getting back into your saree?"
"Yes, please."
"No problems."
Knocking. At the door. Right. Knocking. Probably Rey… Putting book down… Putting…
Kylo jerks away from the story. He's really liking it. It's been so damn long since he just got lost in something fun and fluffy that pulling out of it is proving a bit more difficult than—
More knocking.
Right.
He gets up to grab the door. He's the one with the key, and Rey's doing stuff, and then he's still got to get dressed, and maybe if he reads fast he can fit another two chapters in, or… Maybe he can convince her to go along with having dinner in and then they can read the story together. He's only an hour and a half in, and wouldn't mind going back to the beginning…
Vague fantasies of lots of yummy food, the waterbed, and the story are staring to form in his mind as he crosses the room to get the door and finds that it's not Rey on the other side.
Unni is looking up at him. Her eyes trail slowly from his hair to his waist to his knees, and then, slowly, back up to his eyes. She licks her lips, and smiles up at him, saying, "Your wife is a lucky woman."
He's got no idea how to respond to that, other than wishing he'd put at least the trousers back on before he got the door.
"And she's coming here, soon, so you need to get out."
He blinks, not understanding why he has to leave the room if his wife is coming to him.
"Come on, grab a shirt and pants, let's get you out of here before she gets in."
He blinks again. Whatever this bizarre request is, there's no threat to it. Nothing nefarious is going to happen if he complies. She waves at the inside of the room, where his clothing has to be, and he just shakes his head and goes along with it.
"One minute." And in a minute he's got a shirt and pants, and is being escorted to somewhere not their room.
They're just… standing in a hallway, two halls over, doing nothing. If he realized this strange woman would want him to just stand around, he would have brought the book.
And then, suddenly, for no reason he can see, she just changes her mind. "Okay, go back now."
"Fine." Why am I being evicted from our room for five minutes?
You'll see.
Kelli's looking around their room with a critical eye. The kind of eye for the sort of detail Rey's never had and likely never will have. Whatever it is she's seeing, Rey can't even begin to fathom.
But whatever it is, she decides that Rey needs to be on the balcony, early evening sunshine playing across her.
"There. You go right there. Okay, stay put. He'll be here in a minute." And then Kelli's out of their room, and Rey's waiting, feeling a little silly about this, but…
It's playtime. And she's playing.
Sure.
She hears the door open, and a minute later, Kylo's footsteps. He doesn't see her immediately, or she him, because there's no direct line of sight between the doorway and the balcony.
"Rey?"
"Balcony." She's staring at the doorway he's going to appear in in about three seconds and then he does and…
He stops dead. His foot is still hovering, mid-step, in the air. He puts it down, gently, and just stares at her. He blinks a few times as his eyes go skittering up and down her body, before settling on her face. She watches him do that lip roll thing, though she knows he's not doing it from discomfort right now. No, right now he's trying to make something, anything, come out of his mouth, to translate all of the feelings in his head into words.
It's not happening.
He nods. And she nods back at him, smiling, one eyebrow lifting, just a little challenge in the look, unspoken, though still there, You wanted to see it, so… Here it is.
His eyes go a little wide at that, and he licks his lips, and a second later she's in his arms, and he's kissing the daylights out of her.
Worth getting evicted for?
YES!
As soon as Kylo puts Rey down. (Which isn't all that soon.) Any and all ideas of staying in are gone.
This is the most beautiful woman on the planet, and he wants everyone to see her with him.
He doesn't want to stop touching her long enough to get dressed, but if she's taken the time and effort to look like this, he's damn well getting dressed up for her, too.
"Okay… Uh… Just…" he's holding her hand, trailing his fingers over hers, staring at her, and she's looking at him expectantly.
Finally he feels a little nudge of her mind against his. She's starting to get hungry, and they're supposed to be leaving for dinner soon, so…
"Right." And he's grabbing his things and heading to the bathroom to get changed.
Rey sees the pad on the lounge chair, and bookmarks where Kylo was. Then she starts a search. If she's going to learn how to do this…
If…
He said he's learn it with her, and that helps. New territory for both of them, right?
There are only seventeen results when she looks up etiquette. That's not too bad… Probably.
Ugh… Or not. The first book is seven hundred pages long.
She doesn't groan out loud, or in her head. She doesn't want to attract his attention to this.
She shuts the pad down. Maybe… when she gets home… She'll ask Threepio what he'd recommend as a place to start. Maybe she can ask him to teach some basic manners classes… If her little Maji are ever going off planet, and she hopes they will, having some sort of manners would likely matter.
There are many things in the galaxy that have surprised Rey over the years. She's sure there will be many more, but right here, right now, the surprise at hand is the fact that Kylo Ren, strongest Dark Maji in the Galaxy, the man with the black wardrobe, and the black room, with the black ship, and the black socks for the Force's sake, looks fucking amazing in white.
Like, her heart's in danger of stopping, and if it weren't for the fact she was sitting down when he came out of the bathroom, she'd have done that same dead stop thing he did when he saw her.
A soft little, "uhng" sort of sound goes tripping out of her mouth as she looks at him, hair long and loose, suit… actually, looking at it more, it's not white, it's… off white, very light gray, something like that, with a soft, sheen of silver, cool and slippery on his skin, and he's all but glowing in it, and…
"Wow!"
He's looking a little bashful, getting stared at, by her, because she likes his clothing, but then he smirks a little, shifts his posture, a bit, not so much straightening up, as… shifting his mind into Emperor Ren, into someone who deserves to be stared at with adoration, and then he grins at her.
She wraps her arms around his, feeling a flush at the two of them, together, going out looking like this. He smiles, and kisses the top of her head, and then quietly says, "Playtime."
She nods, licking her lips. "Playtime."
People do stare. When they're walking through the lobby, and then heading toward the restaurant. There are a few moments of Do they recognize? But neither of them feel that. It's just… Apparently, they make one hell of a fine looking couple, and when they walk by people look.
It's a good restaurant.
Supposedly the best one in the city, definitely the best one in the hotel. And, since they've been comped their food… Might as well see what "the best" is.
There are little flashes of 'fancy person' training that a very young Ben got, that are poking out here and there. For example, he knows he's supposed to keep his hand at her low back, and even if her skin weren't bare, and begging for his touch, he'd do that. And he knows he's supposed to pull the chair out for her, which he would if there were chairs. And he remembers that the napkin goes on his lap, but again, no chairs, so no lap, so he's…
Out of his depth.
'The best' is a dining style he's not familiar with.
All of the tables are low to the floor, the soft, strangely giving floor under his feet, and there are pillows all over the place, but there doesn't appear to be the sort of thing one pulls out for one's mate.
The hostess takes them to a table, and gestures for them to sit, so they just, do. A bit of looking around shows that most of the people at the tables around them are lounging on their left or right elbow, pillows propping them up, so they can recline comfortably.
So, they arrange pillows, and get comfortable, heads near each other, feet to the far corners of the table.
This is nice. Intimate in a way that eating normally isn't. Usually chairs mean that they're close, but not so close that he can just nuzzle her shoulder should he feel like doing it. (And he does, often.)
"What kind of flower is this?" He ends up nuzzling that, too, though he hadn't intended to.
"Hibiscus of some sort."
"It smells good." He kisses her shoulder. "You smell better."
She smiles at that. "You do, too."
"Just soap and whatever she put in my hair."
"Nice soap." She lays her face against his neck, not a lot of skin, the neck on his jacket is high, but that does let her bury her face in his hair. "Good hair stuff, too."
"I'll make sure some of it comes home with us."
She laughs a little at that. "Rose was in out bathroom last week—"
"Why was Rose in our bathroom?"
"You probably don't want to know." And with those words, and the sense of Paige being involved, he decides he doesn't. He can do without the image of various baby-related fluids and solids tonight. "Anyway, when she came out she asked if I liked the hair stuff, her's has been off since Paige was born, so she's thinking about trying something new, and I had to admit that it wasn't mine."
He smirks a bit at that.
A moment later, they've got a waitress with menus and glasses, pouring water over ice cubes with flowers in them.
Once upon a time, Ben, as a small child, learned which fork to use, when. He learned to cut each piece of food, move his fork to the other hand, eat the food, shift the fork back, cut another bite. His mother told him that helped to pace the meal, and gave people time to chew and speak.
His father cut with one hand, the entire piece of whatever it was, at once, and then ate with the other, generally as quickly as he could, and was sincerely displeased to have a five-year-old who could barely cut his own food tell him he was doing it wrong.
He told his mother about that the next time he saw her, and she said some people eat differently. The rules change from system to system. So, if he ever didn't know what to do, to find the highest ranked person in the room, watch them, and do what they do.
He knew his mother was important. "That's you, right Mama?"
She'd smiled at that. "In some rooms."
As the waitress is explaining the menu, (Apparently, meals here are a mix of flatbreads, small plates of meat kabobs, veg curries, and salads, all eaten with the flatbreads. They're supposed to pick five of the options on the menu, and then help themselves.) Kylo's watching the people around them, seeing how they eat.
It's similar to what Unni did this morning. They rip small pieces off the bread, and use it to scoop up whatever's in the bowls around them. They dip each bite in the sauces, and then eat them.
Easy enough.
The menu has local prices on it. And he can see this is an expensive night out by local standards, but he's good enough with math to know that, like his hotel room, his credits are going to go far here.
I should have recruiting stations all over this system.
Rey smirks at that. Romantic pillow talk, I take it.
He rolls his eyes a little. Does it bother you?
No. What's got you thinking about that? (She'd been focusing on the food aspect of the menu.)
Local exchange rates. My lowest recruits probably make as much in a day as the average person does in a week here.
Think they'll be interested in some better-paying options?
He's grinning. A lot of people are.
So, remember to ask C8 what other systems have this sort of an exchange rate.
He nods at that, thinking it's good strategy. Might help win some more local support if they hire locals to build their stations. Hardly cost anything to hire somewhere like here. Why do you think it's so low?
She can remember talking to Chewie and Finn about this. Remember how we had to buy local currency when we got here?
Yeah.
Central bank/government controls the currency rate, and likely what can be imported and exported. Keeps local prices low. If you can get around it, you can pick up stuff cheap and sell high somewhere else. Which is why Chewie's wanted in 200 systems. He's not about to let a good exchange rate go to waste. Local law enforcement generally doesn't like it when people come in with embargoed goods to trade for things that aren't supposed to get off world.
Smuggling sounds mysterious and dangerous and whatnot, but often the goods he picks up are fairly pedestrian, things like fruits or fabrics or raw materials in a place where the local governments keep the prices artificially low. If he's lucky, whatever it is has a high price somewhere else, even better if there are extra taxes on top of it, and he can skirt them all. He and Finn have carried some hot stuff, too, but for the most part, he's likely got a ship full of something that's cheap or subsidized on one planet, like milk or bacta or cotton, and has a high tariff on another one.
Keeps goods and people on planet. Kylo thinks, looking around. There may be tourists here, but most everyone around him looks like they're from this system. Locals likely have to spend a good long time saving up to get enough credits to get off world and then afford anything once they leave.
Probably. She can feel the pleasure bubbling off of him. Planning on doing something about that?
He grins at her. Oh yes! He wriggles a little, enjoying the feel of his clothing against his skin. Wouldn't mind seeing more of this across the galaxy.
She gives him a little shove. 'Master Ren, why did you open up the Gidi System?' 'I really liked the silks.'
I do like them.
She laughs at that.
Besides, you wouldn't let me buy the store, so I need to have an easy way to import more of these for you.
That gets an eye roll and a little shove. Her shoulder against his. Really?
He's looking at her, eyes intense, and then lays his forehead against her temple. He says this with his voice, letting it thrum through both of them. "I love you. I love you all the time and in all ways, but… I adore this. I get to be out with the most beautiful woman on this planet. I get to stroke your skin and smell your perfume, and feel your hair soft against me, and…" his voice drops, whispering against her skin, "and later tonight, I'll lay back and stare up at you, utter bliss in my eyes as you ride me, skin gleaming, silk gently brushing your breasts and belly. I'll worship between your legs, and hold you tight as you slip against me. I'll feel you clench and twitch, and know I'm the one doing it for you."
He can feel arousal flushing through her at his words, feel his own rise at the ideas and images he's conjuring. He's kind of wishing that there were the sorts of tables that his lower half would be seated under here, but… nothing to do be done for it. He shifts his jacket a bit, offering himself some coverage. He strokes her shoulder, and arm, looking at her, from the royal purple flower to those delicious little toenails sparking copper and purple. He's never given her toes a second thought to before, but he intends to spend some time kissing them later tonight.
"It just gets to me. This." His eyes trace over her. "That you'll do this, for me. I know…" his eyes trail up and down her body in her dress, and her pretty nails, and the jewelry at her wrists, and he just loves this, "this isn't something you'd do for you. So, I want to make you feel as good as possible doing it, because, yes, I'm trying to encourage you to do this more often, but… If tonight's it, then tonight's it, and I'm going to enjoy the hell out of every second of it." He opens his mind, emotions to her, lets her feel how this feels to him.
And part of it, part he's likely not exactly internalized, not until now, falls into place. Beauty, desire, pleasure… None of those were things he was ever allowed to enjoy. Luke pulled them away because they involved wanting. Snoke burned them because they lessened his pain, and anything that brought him comfort made him less useful to Snoke.
He's reveling in it. Has been for a while now. In her body, and scent, and the way they can make each other feel, and more basic things like food that tastes good, or sleeping when he's tired, or not sitting in his throne because it's uncomfortable, or… Just, physically enjoying things.
And this is another level of it. This is a treat for his eyes, for his desire, for his love and affection, and a nod at a future he hopes they find, and all of it wraps up into this glorious package that just makes him feel so happy and content. He's showering her with it, letting his feelings cradle her, and he sees her flush, mostly with borrowed pleasure. He smiles, glad she's understanding it.
If beauty, sensual pleasure, and desire were things actively denied him, they just weren't things in her world.
She's uncomfortable because this is new, because it involves moving into a world where she doesn't know the rules. She feeds that to him, the uncertainty, the fear of messing it up, the gut-clenching sensation of not just being wrong, but everyone seeing her be wrong, and he pets her with his adoration.
He doesn't care if she's 'wrong.' To him, she can't be wrong, not doing something like this.
And it helps, some.
Food helps some, too. There's only so much existential angsting you can do when there's a collection of very tasty looking things in front of you, all smelling fabulous, and waiting for you to try them all out.
Granted, food is easy. Even if your manners are awful, you still get a yummy mouthful of it.
And, really, neither of them know the particulars of this culture's eating habits.
There's got to be more of it than break off bits of bread and scoop up food, but they can't tell just by looking.
And looking, Kylo remembers his mother's tip. When I was little, my mother told me to match your manners to whomever the highest ranked person in the room is.
Rey raises an eyebrow.
Kylo smirks at her. He kisses her shoulder, and then takes the bite of food she's offering, gently kissing her finger, then he looks around the room. If anyone else controls a galaxy spanning military organization on the verge of spreading a massive society-changing political paradigm shift across the stars, or the head of a tiny, but growing religion that's intending to radically redesign how people think about the universe, the divine, and their place in it, they're doing as good a job of hiding as Kylo is. I have a feeling, in most rooms, that's us.
She rolls her eyes.
And I know for a fact, that on the Supremacy, it's us.
And if you have your way, in the next few years, in any room it'll be us?
Kylo smiles at that. Maybe. He looks at them, next to each other, here. And even if I don't have the numbers, my people are with me by choice. That's got to be worth something, right?
It is.
Kylo wasn't expecting 'acrobatics' to be… this. Leia took him to a circus once, and there had been tumblers there, and he'd watched them bounce and flip around. So, he was expecting something like that.
If you'd shown him this, and asked what it was, he'd have told you this was a ballet. Just, somehow, with a lot more flipping around in the air. This has a set, costumes, a fully functional storyline (Man A wants to be with Woman B, but she's in love with Man C, who is actually a woman and in love with Man A, and there's a wizard casting some sort of spell on everyone, and… It's complicated.), and music, and people doing things he honestly didn't think were possible without the Force, but they're doing it.
Rey didn't have any expectations on what acrobatics would be, other than less sad than a drama and less funny than a comedy.
They're about half-way through when Rey thinks to him, You know, this would be done by now if all three of them just got together with each other.
He smirks at that. Yeah, but that's a short show.
She looks over at him, and gently strokes her hand down his arm, slipping her fingers across his hand. Maybe, I wouldn't mind a short show.
He gets the unspoken context on that fast.
They never do find out if A gets B, or if B gets C, or if C got A, or if the Wizard somehow turned them into a happy trio or…
Neither do they care.
There's a glorious, vaguely naughty anticipation that goes with leaving the show early. Their room is only a few moments away. Just get out of the theater, find the elevators, punch in 15, and walk down a hallway.
Three minutes, five tops.
Walking through the theater and hallway to the elevators… There are hundreds of other people, all milling around, doing whatever it is they're doing. None of them know, or care, why they're leaving, where they're going, what they're going to do when they get there.
But they know what's coming when they get to their room.
Kylo's hand is on the small of Rey's back, and his little finger is just, barely, brushing below the hem of her saree, pad of his finger against her smooth skin.
They're not the only ones in the elevator. Four other people file in with them, punching different floors. Kylo and Rey slide to the back, they've got the highest floor.
She leans back against him, and his hands rest on her hips. This time it's his thumb that finds her skin, dipping below the hem of her skirt, stroking gently, subtly, against the skin of her hip.
She reaches up, cupping his neck in her hand, humming, a little: her voice low, subvocal. He can feel it, she can, too. The people in front of them are all looking at the doors of the elevator, not the couple behind them.
Her fingers stroke through his hair, feeling it soft and warm, heavy.
His voice is subvocal, too. Unheard but felt. A soft rumble of pleasure at her touch. He turns his head, kissing her forehead, breathing in her scent, and basking in her body against his.
The doors open, they close, again and again, eventually, they're the only ones in the elevator, and eventually, they're on the fifteenth floor.
Alone.
Together.
The door shuts behind them. The click is quiet, but they both feel it. It's not like this is the first time. Not like they haven't done this before, probably dozens of times in the last month alone, but…
But it's different, too.
Kylo's not entirely certain where to start. He's looking at her, enjoying looking, and part of him is enjoying the anticipation, sort of like the first few birthdays, before he was a Jedi, back when his parents could give him presents without tripping up on the idea of wanting being a problem.
Granted, back then he wasn't exactly good about enjoying that moment of not knowing what was in the package.
He doesn't want to rush. He wants to savor this, and take it slow, and feel every heartbeat of it, and… His hand reaches out, and he gently pulls the flower from her hair. Then he lightly strokes it across her cheek and down her neck.
Rey smiles at him, shivering a little.
"Feel good?"
"Yes." She unhooks the first of the clasps on his jacket. "It's a good color on you."
He smirks a little, and then lifts her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle, rubbing his thumb over them. "It'll look better on the floor."
She rolls her eyes. "Maybe. On the floor it's just a pile of wrinkles. On you it's…" She leans closer, and raises to her tiptoes, and kisses to him, "Magic."
He grins all over at that, kissing her back. His fingers slip down her saree, silk warm with the heat of her body. "This is magic. No piece of fabric has any right looking this good." He finds the first of the pins, and undoes it.
She steps back a little, holding the kiss, but letting her fingers get to the next clasp on his jacket. "How many of these are there?"
"I didn't count."
She gets the third, and then lays a kiss on his throat. She's got about four centimeters of the jacket undone, so… It's going to take a while.
And neither of them mind.
He's on the third pin, and starting to get an idea. The silk is wrapped around her hips twice, gathered and pleated and folded over on itself along most of her body. There's a skirt and breast band under it. But, lifting some of it in his hand, he can see that one width of it is basically transparent.
This, by itself, warm and smooth and soft. Draped loosely around her, he'll be able to see her delta and nipples, feel the texture and her skin…
Hints of her body and his. Soft, easy, teasing…
He undoes another pin, three more to go. His lips find her shoulder, and he can feel her fingers moving from one clasp to the next, she's about midway down the jacket now, getting him closer to undressed.
Two pins. The silk is starting to sag against the floor, and he can't wait to get the skirt and breast band off. He bends down a bit, kissing her chest, nuzzling his lips and nose against the swell of her breasts through the silk.
One pin. He gives the silk a little tug and it goes cascading down her body. He wraps it around his hand, again and again. It's three meters long, but so fine that the entire length of it barely makes a bulge in his hand.
She's smiling up at him, in her breast band and skirt, and he wonders if she's wearing anything under the skirt. He can't see the line of her shorts, but she doesn't just have shorts, so… pretty images…
One of her fingers lights upon his chin, lifting it, him up, for another long, slow, lip to lip kiss.
The breast band has a set of clasps in the back, so he gets to work on them as she kisses him, her lips rubbing over his, her tongue gently stroking him.
He feels his jacket open, and is about to shrug it off, but she stops him, and he feels her desire to see him somewhat undressed. Undone.
He grins into her kiss, liking the idea of that quite a bit.
When the breast band hits the floor, his hands move down, to the drawstring on the skirt. A quick tug slips the knot, and then it's also on the floor, pooling at her feet.
He breaks the kiss, stepping back, wanting to see her.
Rey lets him look his fill, standing before him, naked save for the fine copper chains around her waist and arms, the gleaming black ring he placed on her finger. She slips the chains off, maybe later they'll be part of a game, but right now she wants skin and silk.
She's looking at him. Still "dressed" technically. He hasn't taken anything off, though his jacket is open, leaving his chest and belly naked, and he's tenting his trousers, his body seeking hers.
He makes sure to catch her eye, and then slowly unwinds the silk from his hand, and just as slowly wraps it around her, leaving her swathed in a cloud soft silk, so thin he can see her shadows and curves through it.
His breath is coming fast, looking at her, and she trails her fingers down his chest, licking her lips.
She tugs his trousers down, over his shaft, and kneels before him. He knows what's coming next and strokes her face and hair.
It's his favorite sight ever. Well, at this moment in time. Anything that involves Rey taking him into her body is his favorite sight while she's doing it, and…
She's got her hand around him, and is pulling him down a little, and...
Gods, he can see her body through the shift of the silk, and his shaft in her hand… And her mouth, her sweet, sweet mouth opening to take him in, and she's looking up at him, pleasure all over her face and in her touch because doing this for him gets to her, too, and… He watches her, watches her suck him down, watches her hand close around him and her lips close around him, and she sinks her head down and then he just can't keep watching because it feels so good.
His head falls back and his eyes drop closed and there's just the feel of her, wet and soft and sucking and perfect, so perfect, her touch and love and joy and, he's rocking his hips, chasing more friction, more feelings, more of her body slick and wet on his and…
His hands close in her hair, and he gently pulls her back, away from him.
"Kylo?" she knew he'd been enjoying that, immensely.
"Don't want this to end, not yet." He wasn't close, not on a hair trigger, but he could feel how easy it would have been to have just given into it. To spurt here, feeling, watching.
"How do you want this to end?" she asks with a smile, standing up, as he grazes his fingers over her shoulders and breast, rubbing them against the silk, making it rub against her skin. He takes a moment to kick off his shoes, sure he's not going to need them again anytime soon.
"Not until I've had you quivering on my tongue. Not until my face is soaked with you. Not until your legs have wrapped around my head, and your delta's slick with my spit, and every inch of your body is lit up with pleasure and my love. Then… I want you to ride me. I want to lay back and feel you bounce on my shaft."
She kisses him hard, lips wet, tongue sliding between them. That can be arranged.
Good.
She squeaks when he scoops her up, the same way he did when he took her to his ship the first time, cradling her body against his chest, and this time, she's enjoying it significantly more.
Granted, this time, she knows what's under the mask. She strokes his face, eyes gazing at his. They aren't kissing, not right now, because right now looking matters, and it's hard to look when you're lip to lip.
I love you. Her? Him? Both?
Yes.
The bed is only a few more steps away, and he sinks onto it, placing her next to him, on her back, wrapped in royal purple silk. His fingers trail over her breasts, ghosting silk along her nipples, lips following, pulling lightly.
He can feel her pushing the jacket off of his shoulders, and he pulls back long enough to yank it and his trousers off. He's as naked as he gets, and she's grinning up at him, looking him from top to bottom, eyes lingering on the width of his shoulders, narrow waist, muscular hips, and maybe it's not the biggest shaft to ever rise, but it's his, and it's fucking delicious.
He smiles down at her, returning to the bed, kneeling over her body, palming her shoulders and breasts and belly, stroking the silk over her skin. He can't get enough of how this feels, how it looks.
"So good," his voice is low, rumbling through both of them.
He rolls her over, onto her belly, and trails his fingers up the backs of her thighs. The silk is translucent, so he can see, but not everything.Enough.
He lays kisses on her low back, and her butt, biting gently on the fleshy bit, hands cupping around her hips. "I love this curve."
She wiggles, pleased, at that and him.
Then he pulls back a little further, to just look. When she'd hit him with this image last night… Well, it's not an angle she ever looks at herself, so… He liked the mental picture, but it wasn't exactly right. He likes the real thing, better.
His thumbs graze along the inside of her thighs, just, barely, brushing the lips of her maomao, before he gives each cheek a good, firm squeeze. Rey moans, a soft, guttural sound. He loves that sound, wants to make it, and more like it, go tumbling out of her mouth. He ripples his fingers, rubbing his thumbs in wide circles, digging into firm muscle and soft skin, and her hips rise, seeking more.
He smiles at that, a very definite idea of more in his head.
He leans forward, dipping his face toward her, and more is his tongue, wet and soft, gliding along the same path his thumb traveled, from just, almost, brushing along where he knows she wants it, across the line of her buttock, to lave over the full, lush curve of her hip.
More is wet silk dragging along her skin, lighting up her nerves.
More is slowly pulling that silk up, revealing centimeter after centimeter of her skin, and then allowing his hands to land on her, nothing but skin on skin, and his tongue to once again follow.
More is the scent of her, the taste, her wet against his, and a glorious, shuddering, "Kylo!" as he pulls her up to her hands and knees, licking from her pearl to her spine, tongue dancing over her skin, gliding along her, as her hips rock, looking for more of her own.
He slides under her, so she's lying against him, her face almost at his shaft, and her whole delta pressed against his face.
Her mouth finds his shaft again, and again, he groans, loud at it. Nothing, at all, feels like her hand tight around the base of him as her lips wrap around his tip, and she licks him.
He tightens his grasp upon her hips and butt, thumbs spreading her wide, as he licks her deep and steady. He knows this, his tongue in her, sliding in and out, is more for him than her, it doesn't quite light her up the way it does him, but… for a moment…
He pulls her up a little further, and she raises up a bit more, too.
There he thinks to her, because right now he's eye to eye with her maomao, and her pearl is right at his mouth, and she's slick against his nose, and…
It's like swimming in sex. Being buried in it. She's wet and slick and delicious and messy and all over his face, and he's rocking his hips, planting his feet under him, giving himself a bit more leverage, curling in a bit on himself. His torso's long enough that if she's here, and he doesn't do that, all she can get is the top few centimeters of his shaft into her mouth, and right now, he wants more too.
One thrust, two, more… She's got him deep in her mouth, and he's got his tongue gliding over her pearl in little circles, and her hand is on him, stroking up and down with her mouth, and right… he's got hands, too, and he pushes her up just enough, so he can lick his fingers, get them good and wet, and then thrusts into her as she pulls him deep into her mouth, and both of them shudder all over at that.
They're building slow. Nothing gentle or light about the touches, but slow.
Deep.
She's got his shaft as far into her mouth as it can go, and squeezing the bottom in her slick fingers. Easing all the way up and all the way down, letting him feel her tongue against him, and the place where the roof of her mouth goes from hard to soft.
He's stroking his fingers in and out as far as they go, rocking them in and out, again, slow. Nothing rushed, nothing fast, nothing missed. He tries wiggling them, curling them forward and back as he moves, and as he does that, when he's pulling out, she jolts against his face.
He'd been more focusing on his fingers and shaft, how he's feeling what she's doing to him, and what he's doing to her, than on how she's feeling what's happening, so it catches him by surprise.
It doesn't the second time he does it, because he's focused on her now, on feeling him and his actions through her, and there's a spot, an angle, something, where he just rocks his fingers into it, and her body lights up… Like he's licking her pearl from the one side, and pressing it from the other, and once he gets that idea in his head, once he gets the feel of it…
He matches his tongue to his fingers, pressing forward with both at the same time, and Rey shudders on top of him, another of those glorious, aroused sounds pouring out of her, vibrating over his shaft, thrilling his heart and body.
He's not sure if dedicating his life to making that sound fall out of her mouth as often as possible is aiming low or aiming high, but he fucking loves the idea of it.
He does it again, and again, and once more, and she's not really sucking him any longer, which he doesn't mind at all, because he can feel how lost she is in her good time, and he'd prefer his shaft not be in her mouth when she's not focused on what her teeth are doing.
He focuses in further, can feel her writhing on top of him, feel that this is good, that it's almost too much, but at the same time not quite enough and…
Suck breaks out of her head, so he does, sucking on her pearl as he presses from the inside, and that's the motion/feeling that spirals her over the edge. That's what starts the slow spurt, her body tingling from head to toes, muscles lighting up and dancing with pleasure.
He can feel the wave cresting over her, the twitch of her body releasing, he keeps himself back from it, aware of it, but not feeling it, because this isn't how he wants to go over the edge, not right now, not yet.
He strokes her back and butt and hips, feeling her relaxing against his torso. He lays light kisses over her maomao, gently licking her wet.
When he can feel her brain come back to her, he thinks, It's silly, but the only word I know for this is spurt, but… You don't spurt.
She laughs, a little, face tucked against his hip. Gush.
Some. His face is definitely wet, but… he wouldn't call that a gush. He offers her another gentle lick. Ooze or leak may be accurate. But not exactly on target for the timing of the issue. When I spurt, you know it. It's not like it goes on for the whole time we commune. You start to leak well before you hit your spurt.
My spurt that doesn't spurt.
Yeah.
She can feel the question he's not asking. No special word for this.
He feels her grasp his shaft. Speaking of spurts that didn't. You're not done.
Nope. He grins against her thigh. Didn't want to be, not yet.
Still want me riding you?
Wouldn't mind, but mostly I just wanted you focused enough on me to not get bitten, and wanted me focused enough on me to just enjoy it.
In that case… Rey takes him back in her hand, and mouth.
Kylo sighs, very happy. She moves down him a bit, and to some degree, he'd like her delta right in his face. Even if he's not doing much, he loves having it near. Loves to be able to lazily lick and kiss, just because it makes him feel good to do so. On the other side, it's a lot less work for him if he can just lie back and receive, which he can't really do if she's right in his face, so…
He closes his eyes and relaxes back into the bed, a bit of a grin on his face.
She gets up, flips around, so she's facing his head, and a moment later, she taps his hip. He raises up and she shoves some pillows under him. That grin on his face gets wider. If she's doing that, she's getting him up high enough so she can do this easy. She's going to take the time to suck his brains out through his shaft, and he adores that.
Yes, please is more or less radiating off of him.
He hasn't opened his eyes, but he can feel her doing something… Calling… the massage oil to hand. She nudges his inner thigh, and he spreads his legs, feeling her settle between them. That yes please glows brighter. Anything she wants to do to him that involves getting sucked and her oiled skin gliding over his is just fine by him.
He can hear the bottle opening, and then feels slick hands stroking up his thighs and over his stones and shaft, and it's his turn to moan, loud and content. This is just fabulous. He's purring at her, melting against her touch, trying to get her mouth into play, but her hands are good too, and he feels the drip, the first drop of pre-spurt or whatever it's called slowly meandering down his shaft, and…
He groans again as her tongue catches it, licking from his tip to his stones.
That thing you did, where it felt like you were sucking from both sides… How did you do that?
He's not sure why she'd want to know that now, but… He bends his elbow, lifting his hand, and shows her the gesture he used.
"Can I try that on you?"
Warm and content and happy and turned on and so, so, so yes please all sort of stop, at once, as he attempts to figure out how that could even be possible. It's not that he's averse to the idea, what he could feel of it from Rey was awesome. If he could feel that way, he'd love to. He's just got no idea of how.
He sits up a little, leaning on his elbows. "Uh… I don't think I'm built for that."
She's looking him in the eye, and then one of her hands leaves his shaft, trails over his stones, down, below them, and down a bit further, before stopping there.
That's an idea that has not, literally, on any level, ever occurred to him.
"Uh…"
She doesn't do anything, doesn't move, or press, or anything, just letting him think about it.
"Does that… work?" Because he can't think of how that might feel good.
"I…" she blushes a little. "Don't know, but… I mean… Uh… Okay… So… The kids weren't with us when we had this conversation, but… You know Poe likes boys, so… We… um… Finally asked him what they do with each other, because Rose and I weren't exactly sure, and… he says it's good."
First off, he didn't know that Poe liked boys. Second of all, he's also never spent any real time attempting to imagine what two men might do with each other. He knows men have sex with each other, but his brain never attempted to fill in any details beyond that. If asked, he'd have probably assumed it involved a lot of oral sex, frottage, and hand jobs. Third of all, that's likely more than he ever needed to know about Poe. And… okay… seeing that apparently it is an option, because while he didn't know what sort of person Poe was having sex with, he had gotten enough of the stories to know that Poe seems to do it a lot, and would likely know if it's good or not, so… Or… wait… two sides to that… And he can very easily imagine how one half of that equation might feel really good.
"Does Poe do it or get it done to him?" After all, it's possible the girls, not generally being on the same side of the equation he's on, misunderstood what Poe liked about it.
"Rose asked. He said both." Or they got the idea just fine and decided to make sure they knew what he was talking about.
"Okay."
"Okay, you're acknowledging the point, or okay," she gently strokes that finger against him. It's slick and gentle and doesn't feel bad, "give it a try?"
He lays back. "Okay, both, but go slow, and stay tuned into me."
"I can do that."
He's not nearly as laying back into a puddle of content goo, but… This is okay. He's… somewhere between nervous and excited, not sure what to expect, but… She's got her hand around his shaft, stroking up and down, and that's a winner no matter what, then her lips find his tip, and…
Okay, very happy puddle of goo time.
Puddle of very happy, very turned on, extremely pleased with her and the universe in general, goo.
He's not sure what she's going to do, but as of this point, it doesn't seem to involve much moving of her other hand. It's just there. Soft, dull pressure. He could almost forget those fingers are there.
And, after another moment, where her hand and mouth glide over him together, he does.
It's when his hips start to rock, lifting his body up, more into her hand and mouth and other hand, that he understands what she's doing. She's letting him set the pace.
So he does, tentatively, lifting his hips to her. It's an… interesting, he guesses would be the word, sensation. And, unlike the first time he felt a mouth close around his shaft, which required exactly no time on his part to decide if it was good, he's not sure if he likes this.
It's not bad.
He arches his hips a little higher and she slides in a little deeper and… There's some stretch, which he doesn't exactly love, and a little burn, which is kind of uncomfortable, but, like when they were working on his shoulder, his shaft seems to like that, a lot.
It's almost like the burn… It doesn't hurt less because he's feeling something good, but it sharpens the good.
The heavy, full, rush of his shaft moving through her hand and lips is just that much more intense, that much sharper.
He arches more, rocks deeper onto her fingers and feels her hand against his butt cheeks. The slide is… as he's getting more used to it, kind of nice. Sort of like when he sucks on her tongue or fingers.
She's rocking her finger, like what he did to her, and that just feels weird. Like maybe it's near something that could be really good, but isn't there.
He remembers that when he did it to her, he was pulling out as he did it, so he rocks his hips back as she does it and, "FUCK" jolts out of his mouth as his hips jerk, hard, at the sensation. For a heartbeat, he thought he'd just jumped over the edge, feeling the first pulse of his spurt, but there's one only pulse, so… nope.
From both sides, indeed.
Okay, that's a trick worth trying again.
For him, at least.
She's pulled back, gagging, because he just poked her in the tonsils, hard.
"Shit, sorry."
After a few more seconds, she's got control over herself, and says, "I take it that works for you."
"Uh… yeah… It does… It…" He's never attempted to explain how his spurt feels to him, but if anyone would understand… "There's the tingle, and the muscle spasms, and the actual spurt part of the spurt, it's a sort of pulse sensation, and… that feels a lot like the spurt part of the spurt."
"So, it's good?"
"Yeah, it's good, just… Wasn't expecting it and… Sorry."
She grins at him. "Well, we both know to expect it now, so…"
He grins back, laying down again, clasping his hands behind his head. "So, fuck me!" His eyes meet hers, dark and wanting, above a wide grin. "Please!"
"Oh… I will." She's grinning back at him, wrapping her hand around his shaft, and settling in, nice and comfortable between his legs.
This time he holds still. It's easier not to thrash around if he's not rocking his hips at all. She's still going slow, getting a feel for how to do this best, and he's good with that. Better with when she presses him on the one side and sucks on the other, and his whole body wants to levitate off the bed it feels so good, but if he did that it'd have to stop, so his thighs clench and his fingers and toes curl, and he lifts his head so he can watch her do it, again and again and again. His shaft slipping wet and slick between her fingers and lips.
Mouth and hand slow on his shaft, finger slow on his… whatever that is. He feels so good, and his hips are so tight, so on the edge of the wave that he doesn't think he could move if he had to.
This spurt is coming for him slow. It's creeping through his veins, and clawing at his fingers and toes, each muscle and nerve alight with tension quivering, waiting to release.
Part of him is pleading with her to speed up, incoherent sounds spilling from his mouth as he begs her to put him over the edge. Part of him, deeper, inside, is begging for her not to, to keep him here, just about to crest over, but not actually dropping, yet.
Apparently she can read both voices.
She's staring him in the eyes, grinning, and licking the head of his shaft, and he can see he's leaking, see her perfect little pink tongue gliding over him, see the pleasure in her eyes and glowing from her skin.
Close your eyes.
He does, slowly, having a hard time making his body take orders from his brain, but eventually, they close, and for a second he's hovering, waiting, not sure what's going to happen next, and then he feels her straddle him, feels her maomao sliding hot and wet and slick down him, clasping him tight, and up, and down again.
"Open them."
They leap open, and for a heartbeat, two, he's watching her riding him, adoration pouring off of him as she's grinding up and back on his shaft, her body jiggling and bouncing, every curve and flat shrouded in translucent silk, and he's exploding, dropping into the crest of the wave, feeling it course through him, shaking his whole body and whiting out his vision.
His heart is thundering, breath gasping, body twitching from the release, when he comes back to himself.
She's resting on his chest, gently stroking his face, and he can feel her body twitching on his, apparently he took her over the edge, too.
He doesn't open his eyes. They closed at some point, but he has no idea when. He does kiss her and nuzzle the top of her head a little.
Eventually she says, "The electrician at this place is going to be glad to see us go."
He, barely, cracks one eyelid, and yes, he's blown the power again.
I'd laugh, but I'm too damn relaxed.
"Good." She kisses his chest.
In the morning, after breakfast, they change out of the 'local wear' and back into their normal clothing.
She can feel he's a little disappointed to see the sarees get folded up and put into the bag, but… There's nowhere on Lirium to wear them. And even if there was, they're for a warm climate, and they don't have one. Not now.
They spend the hours between Gidi Secundus and Lirium working. He's got his datapad in front of him, writing his first year speech. Getting enough down time to really relax seems to have gotten some of his ideas flowing.
She's reading up on different insulation systems, and what sort of heaters do best with small dwelling units.
It's… work.
Companionable, quiet, work.
She can feel it, as he's writing, that there's an image in his mind of giving it, with her standing there, next to him, approving of this, of him, of the Order. He offered her a galaxy, and still wants to give it to her.
She strokes his hair as he writes. "Can I read it?"
"Not yet. When I've got a real draft done, and it's not just words spattered on a page."
"Okay."
A moment later, he pauses in his flow of words. "Learning something good?"
"Maybe. There are physical insulations, and then there are field ones. Fields take more power, but do a better job keeping the temperature stable. So, if the power goes, the insulation goes with it. Physical ones are good forever, but don't keep block as much heat loss or gain."
He nods. "Ships usually have the field ones, right?"
"Yeah. The difference between the inside of the ship and the outside is too great for physical insulation to handle."
"So…"
"Gotta see if the shipstones work as well as they claim to. If we can get a really steady power supply…"
He nods.
She can feel he's still seeing the two of them, at his speech, but he doesn't say it, doesn't ask. He leaves it there, letting her know it's an option, if she wants it.
She leans to him, and kisses him. "I love you."
He smiles back. "I know."