Chapter Text
Ben Solo had never been to a strip club. He had never wanted to go to a strip club. He was sure he would hate it, it was the embodiment of all the things he hated. Sensory overload. Too loud, too bright, too intense. Too much touch. The last thing Ben wanted was to be touched by strangers, especially in front of other strangers. It was for all of these reasons (and plenty more) that he had turned down the offer to accompany his coworkers on multiple occasions.
First Order was a massive investment banking firm. They managed stock portfolios for the richest of the rich and the worst of the worst. Ben was very good at what he did. It involved numbers, patterns, analytical thinking from both sides of his brain, calculating the probability of certain events before they really took shape based on warning signs physical and immaterial and honestly he liked the work, but he hated the people. Ben wasn't overly fond of most people, all people really, but the people who worked at First Order were the worst of the worst.
Ben had turned down drinks every Friday for the last five years but somehow, tonight, Hux had managed to drag him out. The strip club he brought him too looked upstanding enough, but it was still overwhelming. The music was a living creature pulsing around him. It smelled like sweat and fried food and perfume, an assault on his senses. He had mastered the art of not visibly wincing, but it took energy to do so. Most people thought Ben was a dick, and in all fairness he was, but it wasn't out of meanness or spite. He just had no filter when it came to saying what was on his mind and he didn't tend to find peoples jokes funny. Usually they just didn't make sense. This made him come off impersonal and dickish and he had stopped caring about it a long time ago.
Mitaka clapped a hand to his back and Ben fought the urge to pull away as he was led to a small round table near the stage.
"Let Solo sit front and center," Hux said, a cruel smiling playing in a pasty face that naturally lent itself to sneering distastefully. "I don't think he's ever seen a real woman naked."
Ben heard a few of the other men snicker. He didn't care. If watching women dance naked was such a testament to manhood, why could anyone just walk in and pay money to do it? It had nothing to do with personal value.
Ben sat, stiff and awkward in the chair while a deep base line came through the speakers. No one was on stage yet, but the pole was waiting, just a few feet from his face, and the sight of it made him nervous. He hated everything about this place. He disliked sitting still too, and he kept finding his hands moving without his consent and he knew he probably looked ridiculous and he was about to stand up and just LEAVE when the lights got even lower and the song changed, a women was walking out onto the stage.
She didn't look the way he imagined a stripper would. For one thing, she was small chested, and Ben had always assumed huge fake tits were a prerequisite for strippers. She also wasn't blonde, wasn't even wearing a wig, she had brown hair that she had pulled up in a messy bun, long pieces escaping. He watched her as she came up and circled the pole. The music was trashy and pop-y but it worked for the way she moved her body. Suddenly the girl singing was asking "are you ready for it" and then base was much lower she was climbing, fast movements that made her body surge up to the top of the pole, then she was spinning slowly, ankle hooked and knee wide and magnificent, a backbend in mid air. It was not what Ben thought stripping was at all, it was dancing, really dancing. Her body was remarkable where it arched. She had no bra or top on but she kept on black underwear, when she twisted back her tits almost disappeared. Ben felt his breath hitch.He was still overly aware of everyone else around him, and of his own body, and of the club itself but he was finding it easier to focus on her than he thought he would. He figured he would be trying not to make eye contact with whoever ended up on that pole, but now he couldn't look away.
The song ended and Ben was brought back to earth by Hux slapping his arm.
"Like what you see Solo?" There was a dare in the words but Ben had no idea what he was supposed to do next. He didn't have time to think about it, Hux was waving a $100 bill and pointing at him. The girl walked over.
To the girl he said, "My friend here needs a dance, he's rather taken with you," and to Ben he said, "Don't touch her, you'll get us kicked out."
The girl was smiling down at him, this was bad. A lap dance was bad, the last thing he wanted was someone touching him.
"Oh no, please," he said.
"Oh don't be such a pussy Ben, just take the damn dance," Hux snapped. And the girl paused for a moment, unsure. She clearly wanted the money, her eyes kept darting to the bill. Ben didn't say anything, Hux shoved the money toward her and with a smile like honey she began to sway to the music. He could have told her no, he could have been firm, not given a shit about denying her the money, why hadn't he said anything? Why had he just froze? She wasn't quite touching him yet, she turned around so her ass was hovering above his knee, his legs spread so she could stand over one leg, and he got why Hux had bothered to tell even him not to touch. He could see how it would be tempting. She bent lower and her crotch and ass brushed against his knee and Ben winced, this was terrible. He had no idea how someone could get off on this, all of these other people watching. She turned to face him and his eyes snagged on her little tits before finding her face and he felt his anxiety soften, she really was beautiful.
Now she was grinding on his leg, hands rubbing her tits. Her fingers tweaked a nipple. He kept his eyes on her tits, that had to be the more acceptable response for the given situation, right? Everything was weird. She smelled good, better when she wasn't directly touching him, and by the time the song had ended he had decided it wasn't the worst three minutes of his life, although it hadn't been exactly pleasant.
He risked another look at her face, she was looking at him with a curious expression, soft and open and now he felt his heart speed up slightly. She touched his face gently and he didn't flinch, thank god, just felt the place where her skin was on his tingle like pinpricks.
"Thanks," he said, because shouldn't you thank someone who has just performed a service? She smiled wide and said "My pleasure," before hopping off. She was British, it threw him off for long enough that when he snapped back she was heading backstage. His face still tingled where she had touched him.
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Rey hadn't planned on being a stripper. She had received a scholarship to San Francisco State University and with it a student visa and while she had been lucky enough to have some of her school costs covered, there was a huge gap she still had to pay out of pocket, plus rent in San Francisco was ridiculous. She had picked up shifts as a barista and a server the first few years she was in school, but shortly after her 20th birthday one of her friends had convinced her to do an amateur night and she was shocked to find out she LOVED it.
Rey had studied dance seriously in primary school and now in college. Her major was in performance arts, and she took every dance class available to her, as well as theater and voice. She was also minoring in journalism, which was part of why she wanted to study in San Francisco specifically. It was a great school for both studies, in such a wonderfully progressive city.
Stripping afforded her a lifestyle she never thought she would be able to attain. On a good night, she pulled in close to a thousand dollars. She had some dull nights too, but she was lucky enough to work at Rebel Girls and that meant high class clientele from the financial district. Rey had worked a brief stint a Club called Jakkof's run by a man named Unkar Plutt, it had been disgusting and a good night brought her about $80 bucks. Now it was rare she had any night under $200.
She had been able to move from East Oakland into the city proper, and had a room with some friends in Richmond district. It wasn't exactly the heart of the city, but her room, which was smallish and had windows on three sides, had a view of golden gate bridge that was breathtaking.
Rey liked dancing and she liked performing and even if stripping wasn't exactly the theater it was exhilarating and at a place like Rebel Girls she knew she was safe. She was a vocal advocate for sex workers rights and she was happy to do the work that she did. She got judged for it constantly, so she tended to keep it quiet when she should but not out of shame in the slightest, just out of safety.
Friday nights were usually busy, the standard mix bag of suits and wedding ring tan lines. They all started to blur together after a while, nameless semi attractive dudes in suits. Occasionally she had the tech bros, polo shirts and khaki shorts and watches that cost as much as her rent for a year. Better than the scum she had dealt with in the tenderloin, they payed much better and almost always played by the rules.
Rey was sure that this particular Friday was going to be exactly the same as it always was, and in all fairness the routine hadn't varied. She saw the same group of bank bros she always saw on Friday, led by the pasty red head, but they had someone else with them tonight. She probably wouldn't have thought anything of him, even if men were objectively attractive she had a hard time being attracted to anyone who came to watch her. Hypocritical? Maybe, but mostly just a self defense thing. Better to stay objective in this line of work. She was, after all, at work. So she probably wouldn't have paid much attention to the broad man, dark hair like an ink stain, if it hadn't been for his eyes. He looked horrified, really just like he would rather be anywhere else. She had hesitated in giving him the dance in the first place because he seemed genuinely freaked out, but $100 was a huge boost and he hadn't said no, just looked at her expectantly. She had tried not to touch him too much, every time she did he just tensed up and she might have backed off completely if not for the look her gave her. She had never seen someone with all of their emotions just swimming in their eyes. He looked anxious and mesmerized and lost and Rey had liked that look, she liked it a lot. More than the hungry looks customers usually gave her, hands inching closer and teeth bared. Everything about him made her want to touch him, to provoke some response, to loosen him up. He stayed stiff and still the whole time, hardly meeting her eyes after that. He must know everything was always flashing in those eyes. The song ended and she waited, she could have just skipped off but he spoke and he thanked her and it was so sweet she had to touch his face. And then she was gone, and good thing because that was....unsettling. Rey was not supposed to be that into anyone she was dancing for and with how much he seemed ready to bolt the entire time, she was likely never going to see him again.
"Hey girl, you okay?" It was Paige Tico, one of the other dancers.
"Yeah! Sorry, lost in thought," Rey said, standing up and stretching.
"Lets go, it's a long night."
When Rey looked back out at the crowd, he was gone. The rest of the group remained, looking menacing and hungry as ever.
Rey kept thinking about the mystery Bank Bro all weekend. She had no idea why he kept flashing through her mind and it was late Monday night when she had just finished convincing herself to let it go, yet again. It might have really worked that time too, except she came out and heard Ms. Holdo, the club manager, calling to her.
"Daisy, you have a request for a private room."
Rey tried not to flinch, private rooms made her a lot more money but it meant being fully naked letting the dude jerk off the whole time. Even at a club as upstanding as Rebel Girl, rules were bent in the private rooms, even if there was strict security and cameras rolling.
Rey turned to see who she would be spending the next 30 minutes dancing for, and she froze. It was him. She felt herself smile for real.
"Follow me," she said, and she turned to walk back down the hall.
She could hear him shuffling behind her, and tried to get her heart to slow down. She was a little excited about watching this dude jerk off, and that was very, very new to her.
She led him into a small room, clean and white with a pole on a small circular pedestal and a bench to sit and watch from. She was in a school girl outfit, plaid skirt and white shirt over black booty shorts and a black lacy bra.
"Have a seat please...."
"Ben," he said, "and you're Daisy."
She smiled but didn't deny it, she wanted to hear him say her name in the same low voice but it was against the rules.
"Anything in particular you wanna see tonight Ben?" She asked, flipping through and iPod plugged in to the corner.
"Yes," he said and she looked up at with a smile. She didn't peg him as the assertive type but he seemed very sure of himself now.
"You're a dancer," he said.
"Sure," she said with a little giggle, "I mean that's what all the girls say, stripper doesn't have the same ring."
"No no," Ben said, he was so large, his suit made him look dangerous somehow but his eyes were still wide and soft. "You misunderstand me, I know you're a stripper, but I meant you have classical training too, don't you?"
Rey was thrown off.
"Yes, I study dance," she said.
He looked pleased.
"I want to see you dance, really dance. You can pick what you dance to. You don't have to get naked, and I don't want you to touch me."
Okay.
This was not at all what Rey had expected. She had to keep herself from laughing.
"You're serious?" She asked, unsure.
"As long as you're okay with it, if not then I understand and I'll still pay you and leave."
"No! I'm just, surprised is all. This isn't- I don't usually get to- yeah okay just sit down." She was smiling as she flipped through the iPod.
She put on Slacks by St. South, it was moody and low and not something you couldn't really strip to. Too emotional. She started to move, twisting her body to the music, a loose combination with all of the long lines of classic ballet with the swift and jerking motion of modern. Her leg came up straight alongside her head, the skirt pooling around her waist as she spun on one foot. She watched Ben watch her, he was so still, lost in her motions. She pulled her leg out at a 90 degree angle and bent forward, stretching her body before lunging back. She used all of the space in the room to spin and twist, and god she loved it. She never got to dance like this for other people, and it was strange that this seemed so much more intimate and personal than getting naked for someone.
The song ended and she stood to catch her breath. Ben didn't speak.
"We have time for more, if you want," she said. He just nodded and she went to select another song, and decided to queue up a few. The first was Work Song by Hozier. She used the pole for balance as she came up onto the toes of one foot and let her other leg bend to drag her toes along her calf on the way up and out. She used her arm strength for leverage and pulled herself up onto the pole, leg still out and spun softly. When she came back down she dropped to the floor in a serious of dramatic and intense moves that had no place in the back room of a strip club. She danced through this song and the next, eventually stopping to take off the skirt and the shirt.
"It makes it easier to move like this, is that okay?" She was standing in just her underwear. Ben nodded wordlessly, encouragingly.
The final song came on, River by Bishop Briggs and this was something she could strip to if she wanted to but she decided to just dance as if she were alone in a studio, none of the control of ballet of even stripping, just loose and wild movements, her heart slamming in her body as she slammed down to the floor and rose spectacularly onto her toes, propelling her body upward. It was the most fun she had ever had at work. The song ended and Rey swore that Ben must be able to hear her heart slamming into her ribs. She was red and sweaty and glowing.
"Was that good?" She asked, breathless.
Ben just nodded, and stood up slowly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three crisp $100 bills. Rey's eyes went wide.
"Oh you don't have to give me that much," she started, and she had no idea why. Just take the money.
"Please, I want to." He said. She nodded wordlessly. He turned to walk to the door.
"Ben!" She said, and he turned to look at her.
"Come back soon."
Ben's eyes narrowed suspiciously but he nodded and closed the door behind him.
Rey was left alone with the pounding of her heart and a strange sense of sadness.