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Ben hates his job. He hates the red swim trunks he has to wear. He hates being in the hot sun. He hates his fair skin that always burns and never tans. He hates the stench of chlorine and the screaming kids who never listen no matter how many times they’re told to “WALK PLEASE!” He hates the endless boredom interspersed with real emergencies that engender pure terror (like that Spongebob sketch, who knew that by becoming a lifeguard, he was guarding their lives?)
He hates his boss, the pool manager Hux, who loves being in charge but loathes actual work. He hates that he is older than all the other lifeguards, the only one returning to work at the community pool after a (failed) year of college. He hates that his socially awkward ass can’t manage to interact normally with any human being, ever. He hates that the only reason he has this job is that his mom is the mayor, and the Head of the Aquatics Department wanted to kiss her ass.
If he’s really honest, Ben hates everything about himself and his life, but that’s a bit heavy on existential angst for a morning session of swimming lessons with seven year-olds. Ben tries to fortify his spirit with a heavy sigh before walking into the back to look at the schedule and see who he is teaching with this session.
Ben shoves his too-large backpack in his too-small locker before checking out the schedule. Hux isn’t teaching (surprise, surprise) and Ben is paired with Finn this session. Rose, Poe and Rey all have smaller sections. Ben always gets paired with someone for the swim level with the most kids because Ben is shit with kids and needs someone to lead the class, while he either looms and looks big and scowls them into listening or kneels in the shallow water to help little kids try and backfloat, depending on the age and sass-level of the group.
Ben hates it. He never knows how to act around the younger kids, who either seem to instantly latch onto him like he is some sort of tree or look up at him, their eyes wide with fear, and refuse to come near him. Ben finds both reactions equally embarrassing.
Ben hates the older kids too. Caught between childhood and adulthood in the nebulous hellscape that is prepubescence, their cruelty and ungainly social interactions fill him with a mixture of both first and second-hand embarrassment.
Ben sighs again. Honestly, Level 2s with Finn isn’t that bad. It will be a group of mostly seven and eight-year olds. And Finn is one of those people who actually likes children and seems to genuinely enjoy teaching swim lessons. He’ll have the entire class ready to do anything for him after the first few minutes.
Ben turns to meet up with Finn go over the roster and smacks into someone’s side, stepping on a foot, and managing to inadvertently cup a breast in an attempt to right himself.
FUCK. It’s Rose. “Ro-Rose. I am so sorry!” Ben feels his face heat up with embarrassment. He moves his hand away from her chest as fast as he can.
“Are you ok Ben?” Rose asks. She lets go the the arm she had reached up to grab instead of falling forward. The arm attached to the hand that had just accidentally touched her breast. But Rose doesn’t blush. She just looks up at him, with concern in her eyes. She’s so small. Well, short. Her chest isn’t small, it’s actually soft, and … Ben stops that train of thought.
“I’m fine.” Ben mutters, meeting her gaze by sheer will. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see--I didn’t mean--”
“You didn’t mean to touch my boob?” She laughs easily. “Or step on me?” Ben can tell his surprise at her directness is showing on his face. He doesn’t know what he expected, but it isn’t this.
“Yeah, I know. No big deal.” She is still looking up at him. “You sure you’re ok? You’re red, need some sunblock?”
“No, no I’m good. I’m gonna go--find Finn. Umm, yeah--I’m sorry, again.” Ben walks out of the employee locker room, cursing himself for being completely useless at doing talking.
__________________________________________________________
Ben makes it through that day of lessons. And the session. And the next one. And the session after that. He still hates his job. He still hasn’t managed to make friends with any of his coworkers. He still blushes every time he sees Rose, remembering how he had felt her up and stepped on her with his giant feet. Rose notices his flushing and attributes it to sunburn, jokingly offering to help him with sunscreen.
It’s quite humiliating, and so Ben starts making a show of applying sunscreen to his face when Rose is around, just to avoid her questioning, he tells himself. It isn’t because she smiles at him when she sees him rubbing the white lotion into his skin, carefully arranging his hair so that it covers his ears, because those giant things do not need any special attention brought to them.
One day Ben is engaging in his sunscreen ritual before he has to go and take over West End Chair. It’s a brutally hot day, and the pool is packed with screaming children, running wild on popsicles and adrenaline. Hux has been holed up in his office all day, the door shut to keep the air from his window unit inside. Ben is dreading sitting up in the chair, under the relentless rays of the sun.
“You missed a spot,” he hears. Ben jumps. His back had been to the locker room door, and at the sound of Rose’s voice he half turns to face her.
He clears his throat after his voice cracks at his first attempt to speak. “Wha-What?” he asks.
Rose walks up to him. She crooks her finger while looking up at him. It takes Ben a second to realize she wants him to bend down. He obliges, and almost crosses his eyes as he watches her fingers reach up and touch his nose, lightly rubbing. Ben closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them he is staring at her chest, and he can see her cleavage at the top of her suit. He swallows, remembering the very brief, very,very accidental touch he had had of Rose’s chest earlier. The lifeguard uniform suits are modest by design, but Rose’s curves fill hers out so nicely. Do NOT tent your trunks here. DO NOT.
Rose’s hands reach up, under his hair, and touch his ears, rubbing a bit of extra lotion into the tips. Ben is still hunched over, bent almost double, and although he is perfectly capable of putting sunscreen on himself, he can’t make himself move away from Rose. Her touch is soft and tender. Ben can’t remember anyone touching him like this for years, and for a second he feels like he might cry. His throat feels thick and--
He meets her gaze and he sees a look of something there before he straightens up, mumbling a quick thanks and leaving for his rotation before he and his dick embarrass himself further.
___________________________________________________________________
Ben hunches in this chair in West End, the sun beating on his back and Ben feels too big. His body is too big for this damn chair. His feelings are too big to manage. His pathetic horniness is too big to hide in his swim trunks. It’s all too much. Only YOU would almost cry and then get a boner because a girl touched your ears. Ben doesn’t know if he has ever hated himself more.
He’s brooding, and the pool is full, so he doesn’t see what starts it. But out of the corner of his eye he sees one form running, their hands covering their face and a group of youngish teens in a circle, by the diving board. They’re all wearing shit-eating grins and Ben can tell from their expressions they are up to no good.
Anxiety ripples in his chest and Ben hopes that the group will disperse and he won’t have to actually deal with them. Just then, one of the group pulls back and punches another boy in the jaw.
Ben stands in his seat and grabs his bullhorn megaphone. He blows his whistle the required three short blasts to indicate a disciplinary problem. He lifts the megaphone to his mouth and yells “KNOCK IT OFF!”
No one listens. In fact, Ben questions if he even made any sound at all. The boy that was punched in the jaw pushes the kid who punched him, hard. The kid stumbles back and falls in the deep end.
The kid is flailing and it is painfully obvious that he can’t swim.
God. Fucking. Dammit. Ben blows his whistle the long, piercing blow to indicate a rescue before diving in to save the little fucker.
It all happens fast. Ben secures the boy, and gets him out of the pool. By this time the pool safety protocol has been ordered and everyone is out of the pool, milling around. Staring.
Ben shakes water out of his hair, and ever conscious of his ears, pulls his hair down over them. He reports to Hux, who has emerged from his arctic office to deal with the emergency and appear fussy and in charge. Honestly, who works at a pool and has their hair gelled back like that, anyway? A douche who never leaves his office, that’s who.
Ben is about to head to Hux’s office to fill out the paper forms that need to be completed with a rescue when he hears what his mom would call a “kerfuffle.”
The boys who had been fighting and causing all the trouble are standing in a circle, their heads down, looking regretful and circumspect.
“And FURTHERMORE,” Ben hears a voice that carries and holds the cold, barely contained rage of a righteously angry woman. “EACH and EVERY one of you will SINCERELY apologize to Jacen for what you said AND how you conducted yourselves! AND you are all banned from the pool for the next 3 weeks! AND you will NOT be leaving the pool until I PERSONALLY have COMMUNICATED with your ADULT caregivers and informed them of your BEHAVIOR!”
Ben feels a smile spreading across his face. Rose is standing in the middle of this circle of boys. All of whom are significantly taller than her. Her face is scowling fiercely at them as she berates them, outlines all their wrong-doings of that day and their short-comings as people. They all continue to look mortified and ashamed, keeping their heads down and shuffling their weight from foot to foot.
Ben’s smile is now a full, toothy grin. He can’t help it. Rose is so angry, and they are so humble. It’s glorious.
Rose is so passionate, her voice continues at its elevated volume as she orders the boys to get in line and march to the office. Ben’s heart is beating in his chest, his smile unwavering. Wow, is all he can think, as he watches Rose follow behind her group of repentant sinners. He is in awe. WOW.
__________________________________________________________________________
After the pool closes, Ben finishes his paperwork in the glacial confines of Hux’s office, where the temperature, though chilling, is still warmer than Hux’s personality. He wanders into the locker room and finds Rose there, waiting by his locker. Everyone else has gone, Ben figures he would be the last person to leave. He gives her a little wave when he sees her there.
“We have cleaning duty tonight,” she says in response. Normally Ben hates cleaning duty. But he has never had cleaning duty with Rose before. He finds he doesn’t mind it so much, tonight anyway.
Ben drops his chin to his chest. “Fuuuuuuck. I forgot. Sorry if you’ve been waiting, I had to finish those forms…”
“It’s ok. I don’t mind. I think we’re the only ones left.”
“We are; Hux almost locked me in his office in his hurry to leave.”
“All remaining forms will be completed before leaving!” Rose imitates Hux’s voice at its most pretentious.
The laughter bursts out of Ben before he has time to think about it. He can’t help looking at her as she laughs too. Her eyes crinkle and her mouth opens wide. Her laugh is loud and hearty, and she throws her head back in enthusiasm, exposing her throat and the expanse of her chest. Before he is really conscious of it, Ben has stopped laughing and is just staring at Rose. Like a total creep.
She opens her eyes and catches him watching her. Ben’s face heats, and before Rose can quip about sunscreen he grabs the clipboard with the cleaning checklist. “How you want to divvy it up?” he asks. He knows Rose hates mopping, so he is already planning on doing that job.
Rose scans the list, coming to stand next to him. As he looks at the list he can’t help but notice that because Rose is so much shorter than him, he can kind of see down her suit without even meaning to, just by virtue of looking down. Which he can’t really help, at all, if he wants to appear to speak to her or look at the list or anything, can he? He’s so fucked.
“I don’t care,” she answers.
“Ok, well, uh, I’ll do floors then, and you can do whatever.” Ben feels a tiny swell of pride when Rose smiles up at him.
“I hate floors, “ she says, giggling. “Thanks, Ben.”
They each go about their work, quickly but thoroughly, because if they don’t pass inspection when Hux inspects tomorrow, there’ll be hell to pay.
Ben mops and disinfects the floors, Rose does toilets. She hums as she works, and Ben likes the sound. It fills the silence without requiring him to make conversation, which he has never been good at.
As he puts the empty mop bucket in the cleaning closet, Ben hears Rose call him over to the supply closet. “Ben? Can you help me reach the toilet paper, on the top shelf?”
Rose doesn’t move as Ben goes to the closet and easily reaches over Rose’s head to grab the package of toilet paper. He is standing close to her, definitely in her space, but he can’t do what she asks without getting in her space unless she moves, which she didn’t. So maybe, she wants to be close to him?
Ben steps back and holds the toilet paper in front of him. “Um. Here. You go.” He says. Like an idiot.
Rose reaches out and to grasp the package but places her hands over Ben’s. She holds them there. They’re warm and tiny. His hands could engulf hers and have space left over.
Rose takes the toilet paper and sets on the floor beside them. Ben’s hands are at his sides, and she reaches out and takes both his hands. Ben feels her touch and closes his eyes; it’s almost too much.
“Ben?” Rose whispers. “Is this ok?” She squeezes his hands.
Ben nods and takes a deep breath. His eyes are still closed, but he leans forward, rounding his shoulders and spine until his forehead is touching Rose’s.
“Oh good,” Rose says. “Because I’ve wanted to do this forever.” And Rose lets go of his hands, places her hands on the sides of his face and pulls his lips to hers.
Ben is so surprised, his eyes pop open, and he sees Rose has her eyes closed as she presses her lips to his. Staying crouched, Ben’s hands hover around her waist before he places them there and starts kissing her back in earnest.
She’s small in his arms, but she isn’t fragile or tiny. Rose is fierce and solid, and here, with him . His thumbs stroke up and down her sides and she opens his lips with her tongue.
Rose slips her hands around Ben’s neck and pulls him close, not breaking the kiss. There is no space between their bodies and as Ben smells the mixture of sunscreen and chlorine and industrial cleaning supplies on Rose. The combination has never been pleasant to him before, but …
Rose presses herself into his erection, which is fully tenting his trunks now. She rubs her belly side to side against it and breaks the kiss.
“You, Ben Solo, have gifted lips,” she is smirking at him. “And you’re ungodly tall. Would you like to sit down?” she asks, gesturing to the lone folding chair in the corner of the locker room.
Ben quickly, wordlessly sits down and looks up at Rose in anticipation. She sits on his lap, facing him, straddling his hips. Ben places his hands on her waist again, and Rose flexes her hips forward and rubs against him again. Ben makes a strangled sound and Rose laughs, smiling into his eyes.
“I have been crushing on you all summer, you dummy! I’m terrible at flirting, but I really like you, and I thought maybe you liked me, but I wasn’t sure.”
Ben is stunned speechless for a moment. Partially from the shock of Rose’s confession, partially from her center pressed against him, moving slightly and distracting him with friction.
“You. Are. Amazing.” Ben says when he finds his words, punctuating each word with a tiny thrust. Rose moans when he moves. She is moaning! He is making her moan! “I like you. Um, a lot. You make working here less terrible. I-- sorry. You’re the best thing about working here. Best thing in my life, actually.” Why did he say that? He came on too strong, said too much. But Rose is blushing and smiling.
“Do you need some sunscreen, Rose Tico?” he teases, and she giggles. He loves that the smile on her face is there because of him.
Feeling bold, Ben moves his hands to her breasts, feeling through her swimsuit. “Ok?” he asks and Rose nods and leans into his touch. He runs his thumbs over her nipples and they harden into peaks. He squeezes and palms her. Rose is watching him touch her, and when she raises her eyes to his, they are darker.
“Your hands are so big,” she says, biting her lip. “They feel so good on me.”
Ben continues to massage, loving how the flesh is firm but pliant. Rose is pressing her chest forward into his hands, and now her hips are working, rubbing herself on his erection. The friction feels amazing and as she picks up speed, Ben moves his hands to her ass for leverage, pressing her harder against him and thrusting up against her.
“Oh Ben, that spot is so good, can you not stop? Please?” Ben nods. Rose leans forward and buries her face in his neck. Ben will die, he will perish from inanition before he stops what is making Rose feel good.
“Remember that day you fell and touched me by accident?” Rose mutters into his neck.
Like he could forget. “Yeah, yeah I do,” he replies, continuing his motions. Her ass in his hands feels incredible, Ben can’t believe he knows what these parts of Rose feel like.
“I liked it,” Rose says. “I started touching myself thinking about you after that.” FUCK.
Her confession spurs him on, and Ben hears Rose moan loudly before he comes in his trunks, the image of Rose spread open and touching herself in front of him, because of him, burned on the inside of his eyelids. She continues to rub up against him before slowly subsiding.
She kisses his neck. “Wow,” she says, moving back to look at him. “That was something else, Ben Solo.”
Ben leans forward and kisses her briefly. “It was,” he agrees.
“Want to come to my house for dinner tonight?” she asks. “After you go home and wash the cum out of your shorts?”
Ben laughs loudly. He can’t quite believe what just happened, normally he would feel embarrassed about making out in a locker room and coming in his pants, but with Rose he feels like he can be himself, and that he is enough, just as he is. Rose likes him and she wants to spend time with him outside of work. It’s too much good, all at once. He has a hard time trusting it. But he wants to.
“I’d love to. You sure you aren’t sick of me?” he asks putting the words out there as if they’ll hurt less if he says them first.
“Not a chance. You can meet my sister and eat food. And then we can hang out. And then we can see each other again at work tomorrow.”
Ben’s face might be sore from smiling so much. He will get to see Rose again tonight and then at work tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.
At the prospect of Rose-filled days, Ben feels a bit of hope. Maybe he loves his job after all.