Work Text:
Ben Solo had the worst taste in music ever.
The little nuts and bolts of Rey’s vintage Erector set were rattling and jumping on the scuffed particle board surface of her coffee table. It wasn’t the throbbing bass of hip hop or the punishing double drum beat of heavy metal. It wasn’t the indulgent vocalizing of this week’s Top 40 darling or the scream of an 80s hairband guitar.
It was saxophone, and trombone, and chipper lyrics yelled by grown-ass men. Ben Solo, her pain in the ass neighbor, worshipped at the altar of Ska.
And it was driving Rey insane.
A teeny, tiny screw rolled off the table and was lost in the tangled pile of her IKEA shag rug. Rey growled, a sound usually reserved for exceptionally lean months where the money went to groceries rather than the more robust suppressants. She pulled a palm sized magnet out from the bottom of her ratty rucksack and passed it slowly back and forth across the carpet. She found her screw, along with a washer, two nuts, and an unexplained hair pin. As she was picking these things off the magnet, her hand drifted too close to her current project. The half-finished crane zipped over to the magnet—scattering all the pieces and parts she’d carefully sorted onto the floor.
Rey snarled, abandoned the mess, and stomped out the door. She pounded on Ben’s door with alternating fists.
“Turn it down turn it down turn it down!”
The music didn’t quiet, but the door did open, causing one of her fists to land squarely on a pectoral muscle the size of a dinner plate. He was bare chested and sweaty, and Rey's mouth literally watered.
She took a step back, shaking out the fist that had struck him. He smelled good, even dripping with sweat. Like—like burnt sugar and rain in the forest and axle grease. No, no, that last one must be her. She should wash her jeans more often.
Rey was still staring at Ben's chest when he said, "Can I help you, sweetheart?"
That snapped her right back into her righteous fury.
"Turn down your stupid music! It's rattling the damn walls."
Ben took a moment to look her up and down. She was wearing (apparently dirty) jeans, her only unstained grey sweatshirt, and furry slippers that made Wookie noises when you squeezed the toe. Not really an outfit warranting slow perusal.
"Doesn't look like you were sleeping," he said with a flick of his eyebrows. "So I don't see what the problem is."
Rey felt her blood boil.
"What was that?" she shouted, cupping her hands around her ears. "I can't hear you over all the Skabba the Hut!"
He gave her a dirty look before stomping back into his apartment. She half expected him to slam the door in her face, but he turned off the music instead. The silence that followed rang in her ears.
When he came back to the door, Rey grumpily noticed that he still hadn't bothered to put on a shirt.
"I do not listen to that third wave bullshit."
Rey rolled her eyes. “Like I care. Can you please just keep it down? This is my only day off this week and I’d like to enjoy it in peace.”
“Whatever,” Ben said. “I need to get back to my workout.”
He did shut the door in her face then, and Rey grimaced to keep her gorge from rising too high.
“I need to get back to my workout,” she mimicked in a wheedling voice.
“I can still hear you,” Ben yelled through the closed door, and Rey felt her face heat.
How? How did he not have permanent hearing loss after listening to garbage music all the way up to an eleven?
Once she was back in her apartment, settled on her couch with a cup of tea and all her Erector Set pieces reorganized, she expected her asshole neighbor to fade from her thoughts. He did not. Ben was kind enough to lower the music to a ten instead, but it wasn’t that terrible racket that kept her mind drifting back to him.
It was his smell.
It was strange. She never really picked up on the scents of other Alphas. Omegas and the occasional Beta, but never an Alpha.
But Ben. She could smell him every time she was near him, which was infrequent enough, thank goodness. Always that fresh yet sugary scent. Sometimes, like when he was working out, it was stronger, and other times, like when it decided to finally cool down in Southern California and he wore that beat up leather jacket, his smell was less potent. But she’d never not smelled Ben Solo.
It was frustrating. Rey already hated the fact that she was a goddamn Alpha, but the whole scent aspect of the thing weirded her out. There were dating apps that included detailed descriptions of their members’ scents, as well as an option to send or receive clothing samples from potential dates to literally sniff them out beforehand. It was really bizarre.
Heat and rut and knotting was already primitive enough, but Rey never felt more like a wild animal than when a particularly odoriferous Omega would pass her on the street and she found herself unconsciously beginning to turn and follow after them.
The last thing she wanted was an Omega. It seemed unfair for her, a girl who’d never been taken care of a day in her life, to hold the biological imperative to be a protector, a caretaker. Why couldn’t someone take care of her for once?
When she was little and she first learned about the birds and the bees, Rey wished with all her heart to be an Omega. She wanted a mate, someone who built their life around taking care of her. But puberty hit and she found herself to be hungry rather than thirsty.
The home provided crappy suppressants and blockers and Rey had used them religiously. The last thing she had needed was for the evil little shits at the group home to tease her about how she smelled or risking a loss of control. They had already pointed out at every possible occasion that she was too skinny to be a good Alpha.
She bought the “good stuff” once she got a full-time job and had worked very hard on turning that part of herself off. And save a few brave Omegas stinking up a coffee shop or the DMV, her efforts had paid off.
Except she could always, always smell Ben Solo. She swore it seeped through the walls sometimes, but she knew that couldn’t be true. His phantom scent must just follow her home or get filtered in when the aircon kicked on. The worst of it was that now, the smell of baking cookies made her think of Ben. Rain happened so infrequently around here, and the last thing she wanted was for it to remind her of her dickhead neighbor.
Now her knuckles smelled like him and he’d switched from the hot garbage collection to a 2 tone album she could actually stomach. This was the one with the baritone saxophone, which was palatable. Not the soundtrack she’d pick for putting together a near-mint mid century Erector Set, but affordable housing needers couldn’t be choosers.
.
.
“Is he single?”
Rey grunted and used her tiny plastic straw to try to spear one of the cherries that lined the bottom of her drink. “I don’t know. The only thing I know about him is that he has bad taste and works out a lot.”
Poe nodded, taking a long pull on the curly straw sticking out of his umbrella topped drink. “Uh, yeah. He sounds like my type.”
“Who sounds like your type?” Finn joined them, setting down their next round of drinks before they’d even finished their first. Rey was sure he’d tried to keep his voice casual, but she knew him well enough to hear his pitch rise slightly.
He’d been pining after Poe for months, but Rey knew the fact that Finn was “only” a Beta was holding him back. No matter how many times Rey had tried to convince him that not every Omega ended up with an Alpha, Finn refused to make any real moves. Which was a shame, because the only “moves” Poe Dameron really required was a light breeze.
“Rey’s fine-ass neighbor.”
Rey watched Finn’s shoulders relax as he passed out the drinks.
“I never said he was fine!” she said, moving her straw from her glass of cherries to her fresh 7 and 7. The rogue behind the counter, known only as Han, had all of their drink orders memorized, down to the extra cherries. He even brought her an empty bowl at last call so she could dump all her boozy fruit into it and eat them like a drunk toddler. She liked Han.
“You blush when you talk about him,” Rose offered gently. Her smile was kind as she knocked back a very large shot of whiskey. At a table full of sugary drinks, sweet Rose Tico drank straight rye. “It’s okay. We wouldn’t blame you. That’s the thing with Alphas; they are supposed to be a smoke show.”
Rey rolled her eyes. “I’m an Alpha, remember?”
Rose gave her as lewd a look as she could manage. “Did I stutter?”
“Ugh stop,” Finn said. “Don’t you guys get tired of always talking about the biological imperative?”
The table fell silent. Poe and Rose were both Omegas, and while Rey thought that Betas were the lucky ones, she knew it was hard for Finn. He was like her, feeling like he didn’t fit in. She didn’t feel like a mighty Alpha, and Finn felt like just another face in the crowd, a Beta fated to mate with another Beta and produce more Betas. No better than a clone, he’d once said.
“Sorry, pal,” Poe said, clapping him on the shoulder.
Finn turned his head, looking as if he’d like to rub his cheek against Poe’s knuckles. “It’s fine,” he muttered. “You know I’m just jealous. Green’s not really my color.”
“Disagree,” Rose said, and now she was the one blushing.
God. Rey took a long pull on her straw, half wishing that all the sad-sacks at the table would just go to bed together already.
“Anyway, his music is terrible, his attitude is worse, and his smell—”
“His smell?” Rose asked. “You can smell him? Like—like his rut?”
“Eugh! No. No. He—doesn’t do that, as far as I’ve been able to tell. No guests and no choking pheromones. This is just his natural stink.”
Poe grimaced. “He stinks? Okay, less my type.”
“He doesn’t stink, per se. He just—smells really strong.”
“Like what?” Finn asked. “I’ve seen colognes advertised that are supposed to complement a person’s pheromones, or even mask them.”
Rey shook her head. “No, nothing chemical-y. Just—” Nice things. My favorite things. Because I’m the world’s worst Alpha. “Just, like, sugary.”
There was another beat of silence and Rey was afraid she’d said something wrong. Her friends had always been really great about her situation, about how she dealt with it (and didn’t deal with it). But maybe she was missing something.
“You’re sure he’s an Alpha?” Poe asked.
Rey snorted. “The guy has the physique of a bulldozer and the personality to go with it. I’m sure.”
“I dunno,” Finn said. He wasn’t drinking much of his sangria, rather just swirling the chunks of fruit around the glass. “You’re an Alpha and while you are tall, you probably weigh a buck twenty in your steel toed boots. Size isn’t everything.”
Rey refused to entertain the idea that Ben could be anything but an asshole Alpha. The alternative was too—
Everything. That’s it. Ben as a Beta, or even more laughably, as an Omega, was just too everything. The loud sound of slurping interrupted her thoughts, and Rey realized that she’d sucked down the rest of her drink. Another glass of nothing but ice and cherries.
Poe gave her a knowing look. “Another?”
Rey nodded. “Oh, yeah.”
It was very late by the time Rey was weaving her way down the hallway of her apartment complex. Finn had wanted to walk her all the way to her door, but she’d shooed him back to the Lyft waiting outside once the elevator opened. She never took the elevator, mostly because she didn’t like her odds of survival in the rickety thing, but the thought of four flights of stairs right now turned her stomach more than the cheap whiskey sloshing around in her belly.
She got her door in sight and took out her keys, already planning the perfect pajama outfit to change into and enjoy. Then she caught a whiff of Ben about four feet from their neighboring doors.
Mmm, Ben. He always smelled so yummy and his body was utter perfection. Big and strong and pretty. She’d drizzle him over a bowl of ice cream then take him to bed.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Rey blinked, then blinked again. Ben’s door was open, and he was looking down at her, and she was leaning heavily on the jamb. Oh Jesus fuck, had she said any of that out loud?
“M’sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I know it is very, very, very late.”
The corner of Ben’s mouth caught, a kinder version of his usual smirk. This smirk, the nicer, scoundrel smirk, reminded her of somebody.
“Actually, it is very, very, very early.”
Rey screwed up her face. “Actually, it’s yucka yucka yucka. Seriously, dude? You’re gonna pull an ‘actually’ on me?”
He huffed a short laugh. “I might. You’re the one banging on my door at two thirty in the morning mumbling about ice cream. How much have you had to drink?”
“Mmmm,” Rey moaned. “Just enough for a really good nap. I’ve got the perfect pjs planned and I’m gonna sleep like a bear in the winter.”
Rey felt a small tug and realized that Ben tucking back a piece of her fallen hair. Right now he smelled like freshly laundered sheets and crisp, clean water.
“You plan out your pajamas?”
Rey nodded, which brushed her cheek against his fingers that were still lingering near her face. “Oh yeah. I have this fuzzy hoodie and really stretchy yoga pants that have been washed a million times. Those are my drunk jams. Very cozy.”
He smiled, like for real smiled, and Rey was suddenly crushing very hard on his crooked teeth. Especially that little pointy guy. She’d take that tooth to prom.
“That’s cute,” Ben said. “What do you wear when you’re sober?”
“Depends on if I worked out or not. It’s shorts and a tink tap, tink—” She closed her eyes and scrunched up her nose, concentrating. “—tank top when I haven’t been running in a while, and just a really big t-shirt when I’ve been good.”
Something flashed in Ben’s eyes at the word good and Rey swore she caught a whiff of melted chocolate.
“What’s the difference?” he asked, his voice lower now. He was just straight up stroking her cheek at this point, and Rey really liked it.
“The shorts and tank top double as active wear, so I don’t have an excuse to not go for a run in the morning.”
He tugged on her earlobe, and Rey felt herself go warm between her legs.
“That’s really smart.”
Rey preened for him, arching her neck and smiling wide. “I’m really smart,” she said. “I’m gonna be an engineer someday.”
Ben raised his eyebrows, his face more serious now. “Yeah?”
“Uh huh,” she said. “I’m taking all my gen ed courses at LACC for real cheap so I can get to work faster in whatever program I get accepted to.”
Ben nodded, and Rey didn’t think he was just humoring her. “And you’re confident you’ll get into an engineering program?”
“Yup,” Rey said. At some point she’d reached out and tangled her hand in the cotton of his t-shirt. She’d dragged the v-neckline down far enough that she could see the faintest shadow of chest hair. “I’m really, really smart.”
Ben cupped her neck, and it felt so strange. Right and good, but weird and off. She did not like this guy. Her lizard brain was just broken and found him really attractive.
Like, biology.
“You are,” he said, and Rey forgot what had come before that. Something about pajamas. Ohh, pajamas. And bed. A big, soft bed. She bet Ben’s bed was huge since it had to sleep a Transformer.
“S’too bad you’re a Alpha,” she said. “You know?”
His brows furrowed. “What?”
“Cause then we could do stuff. Like, I’m not saying I like you, or like-like you, but I sure bet we’d have fun doin’ stuff.”
Ben stared at her like she was speaking another language, and hell, at this point she might be. “What are you talking about?”
Rey suddenly felt a lot more sober.
Oh, god. Oh, fuck. She’d just hit on her Alpha neighbor and he thought she was insane. She was insane. She was drunk and certifiable, flirting in the hallway with the fuckboi next door. Poorly. And he so wasn’t into it.
“I gotta go,” she said, feeling her face heat. She could smell herself now, alcohol soured by embarrassment, like the stink of too many flowers in a small space.
Ben looked like he was still struggling for words when she stumbled back and fumbled through her purse to find her keys. It took a good ten seconds to realize that they were still in her other hand.
Fucking fuck.
She grappled with the lock and was closing the door behind her when Ben seemed to come to. She heard him say her name, but she just threw the deadbolt and stumbled back to her room.
.
.
The first thing she noticed was the headache. Skull ache, more like, because the throbbing felt bone deep. The next was the smell that didn’t even smell like sugar and rain anymore, it just smelled like Ben.
Ben.
Oh, god, Ben.
Rey sat up quickly and immediately regretted it. The throbbing bones did not approve. She’d flirted with her neighbor while stinking drunk and if memory served, he’d been repulsed by the idea. His smell was everywhere, in her hair and on her hands. Maybe she’d rubbed herself all over him in this disaster of a seduction attempt. She didn’t doubt it; she was a lukewarm mess when drunk, and stroking her body against him like a goddamn cat wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
The smell of coffee cut through the lingering scent of her humiliation. She groaned. Coffee sounded good. She was more of a tea girl but—
There was a loud knock on her door and even from a room away, it rattled around in her brain cavity. Did she not drink any water last night? Or brush her teeth? How many rounds had they had?
The knock came again, somehow even louder, and Rey whined.
“Stoooopp,” she moaned, then climbed gingerly out of bed. The smell of coffee got stronger as she approached the door, and Rey smiled. Finn. Finn was here to caffeinate her out of her misery. He should have gone home with Poe like she’d told him to, but still. Bless him.
She opened the door, and it was like Ben’s smell had been concentrated down to a perfume, thick and nearly cloying. It made her knees buckle and her heart flutter, which put off her annoyance at him waking her up. A little.
“Look I’m sorry,” she started, but before she could go further, he held out a large thermos. It was scuffed and well used, the company logo on the front almost indecipherable.
RST Order, Inc. Huh.
“I thought you might need this,” he said, and Rey squinted at the mug like it was a poisonous frog.
“What are those?” she asked, pointing at the two white pills balanced on top.
“Strychnine,” he said, his tone casual.
Rey stepped back. “What?”
“It’s extra strength Tylenol, you noodle. Are you going to let me in?”
Rey blinked. No, she hadn’t planned on it, but now it seemed like she should. She stepped aside with an exaggerated gesture. “By all means.”
He sat on her dinky IKEA couch and it squeaked beneath him. Ben placed the coffee on the low table, folded his hands in his lap, and exhaled.
What the fuck was going on?
“Did—did you call me a noodle?” Rey asked as she closed the door.
His mouth twitched, but he seemed to be holding back a frown rather than a smile this time. “My therapist suggested I come up with more neutral words when expressing—emotion.”
Anger management. Got it. Rey felt even less at ease about having him in her apartment.
“And you landed on ‘noodle’?”
Another twitch, but in the smile direction. “I’m working on it. You gonna sit down and drink your coffee?”
Rey didn’t bother holding back her grin. It was one of the only movements she was capable of that didn’t hurt.
“Yeah, sure.”
Rey sat as far from him as possible on the couch, which wasn’t far at all. He was so enormous he seemed to take up more than his fair share of space. He was staring at his lap, the first two fingers on his left hand drumming out an inconsistent rhythm on his thigh. Rey picked up the coffee and his fingers stilled.
She moved the pills from the top and took a careful sip.
Oh yeah, that was some good coffee. Just sweet enough, just milky enough, with a nice nutty taste as well. And not too hot to take pills with, which she did. Tylenol or strychnine, at least her headache would go away.
“Thank you,” she said. “That’s really good coffee.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I roast the beans myself, so—”
Rey snorted. “Of course you do.”
Ben turned to her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Please,” she said. “You know the difference between Jamaican Ska and 2 Tone. You’re bound to be some sort of snob.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You also appear to know the difference, so I don’t really know the point you’re trying to make.”
Rey took another drink of her coffee instead of answering. She only knew that shit because of a bad bout of insomnia and an endless wikipedia hole. And she had to look the different bands up on YouTube because reading about how music sounded was stupid. Her ‘suggested for you’ algorithm was eternally screwed up.
“Sorry about last night,” she said. “I was deep in my cups.”
Ben smiled. Rey still thought his teeth were cute, stone cold sober. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Hey! I said I’m sorry. I’m a disaster when I’m drunk.”
Ben cocked his head, leaning closer to her. “I wouldn’t say disaster.”
Rey could feel her face heat. She was so bad at this. Was he flirting? Or trying to make her feel better? “What—what would you say, then?”
His eyes trailed over her and his smile grew. He didn’t answer her, instead saying, “You were right, your drunk jams do look cozy.”
Rey straightened as memories of the night before washed over her. “Oh god. I told you about my pajama system.”
“You sure did.” His smile took on a feral edge. “I like it. It’s a good system. I might just try working it into my own.”
“You have a pajama system?” she asked in the driest tone she could manage.
“Nah,” he said. He stood, walking carefully between her and the coffee table and then towards her front door. “I don’t wear pajamas.”
Ben let himself out as Rey stared after him, dumbfounded. Okay, that was definitely flirting. He left immediately afterwards, so that wasn’t great. But bringing to mind his naked body was definitely maybe flirting.
Rey took another long drink of the perfect cup of coffee in her hand, realizing that he’d left his RST Order thermos behind. She’d have to return it later, and maybe Ben would ask her inside. She might even be able to talk about something more substantial than pajamas and bad music.
Her phone chirped Poe’s text message noise, and Rey sighed in relief. Finn wouldn’t know any better, but Poe would definitely know whether or not her neighbor was flirting.
.
.
Today, 12:07pm
Poe Damn-son
Yes. Hes absolutely flirting w u. Dont make me use the
eggplant emoji.
Okay. But Alpha.
And?
Thats hot.
Rey u there?
Rey?
🍆
.
.
Poe’s And? was still nagging at her almost a week after the drunk-pajamas-and-coffee incident. Ben’s thermos sat in the middle of her coffee table like a weird centerpiece. She’d washed it three times, but the plastic and metal still smelled slightly like Ben. It was driving her a little crazy, making her throat ache and her palms itch.
Even combining three Erector Sets to make a backhoe/crane/streetcar monstrosity couldn’t distract her for long. Her eyes would wander to the thermos, and Rey would wonder once again if she was brave enough to knock on his door to return it.
This was ridiculous. Rey was so broken. She didn’t want an Omega for a million different reasons, all of them selfish, and it seemed like her denied biology was punishing her in the worst way. She wondered if she shouldn’t just have her olfactory bulb removed. It might be worth never tasting chocolate or really excellent coffee again if it meant that she’d stop lusting after her neighbor’s Alpha smell-goods.
There was a bump in Ben’s apartment, and Rey jolted in her seat. She realized then how quiet it was, and how long it had been since she’d heard the squeal of a trumpet bleeding into every facet of her home life. Not since—
There was another bump, more of a muted crash. What was he doing over there? Rey stood, creeping over to their shared wall like he might actually hear her. She felt a little like Nancy Drew, pressing her ear against the cold plaster, but she could definitely hear him moving around. Maybe that was why he played his music so loud: so Rey couldn’t hear how heavy his footfalls were.
Very loud, and he seemed like he was pacing. He shouted something, and something hit the wall with a thud. Was he trashing his place?
Go check on him.
Rey pursed her lips. That was a nagging sensation she didn’t often feel. She was on more than a few meds to suppress urges like that.
He might need help. Or soothing. Someone to talk to?
Since when did she care?
She heard another noise, something like pain, and her back stiffened.
Go. Knock on his door. Ask if he’s all right. What if he needs you?
Rey felt a sinking sensation in her middle. He didn’t need her. He was a strong Alpha. Stronger than her, and he didn't need—
He groaned, and Rey was out her front door before she could think about it. She knocked, then breathed deeply to try to steady herself. She didn’t really know what the plan was, but—
Rey felt her knees turn liquid. Her mouth watered enough to make her swallow, and she felt a shock of warmth between her legs. Her senses were totally overwhelmed with all of her favorite scents: warm sugar just starting to burn, that ineffable ozone redolence after a heavy rain, the musk of oil and grease built up for years in an old toolbox. Her belly ached and her thoughts shifted into softer focus.
Only ten seconds ago, she’d been making a Franken-Crane and now, she was nothing but want. She knocked again, more frantic. He needed to let her in. She needed to get to him. “Ben! Open up!”
She heard him on the other side of the door, a high whine that tugged at her so sharply it stung. She’d never heard Ben sound like this. Weak. Desperate. She was having trouble translating all the information her senses were giving her, but when he finally opened the door, it washed over her in startling clarity.
“You’re—you’re an Omega?”
Ben dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around her hips and burrowing his face into her middle. It felt good, so good. Right in a way that she’d never imagined. She had to help him. She had to make this better.
“Yes,” he gasped. “There was a—a fuck up at the pharmacy. I’m—I’m gonna—”
“You’re about to go into heat,” she finished for him.
Rey had never done much more than yell at or wish death upon the man literally on his knees for her, but now she found herself unconsciously trying to curl around him, her hands already clenched in his too-long hair. He rubbed his face on her belly, nosing under the hem of her sweatshirt. He ground a wet kiss into the skin below her navel and his crooked teeth scratched over her too-sensitive skin.
“You’re about to go into heat,” she said again. She felt drunk, her limbs loose and clumsy. “And I’m an Alpha.” Rey said this like she had to convince herself—which she probably did.
“Please,” Ben said. His mouth was still against her bare skin, and his deep voice seemed to resonate through her to the soles of her feet. “Please. I don’t know what to—I’ve never—”
“Shh,” Rey said, bewildered at how incredibly easy this was. She’d avoided Omegas like the plague because she didn’t know the first thing about taking care of another person. But, somehow, she felt like she knew exactly what to do. “It’s okay.”
And it was. Somehow.
“I’ll help.” Rey said this like he was an engine she could fix and not what it really was. Helping him meant something much different than that. Something Rey wasn’t even sure she wanted to give a name to. Not yet. “Do you want to come over or should we—?”
“My place,” he gasped. “My place. My things.”
Right. Omegas. Nests. Right? Yeah. Nests and stuff. “I’m, um, I’m going to grab some of my things. Do you know how long you’ve got?” Until this thing is totally out of control.
“No,” he grunted, tightening his hold on her.
“No, I can’t grab some things or no, you don’t know how much time you have?”
“Please stop talking and get your things.”
Rey bit her lip to hold back a cheeky retort and set about prying herself out of Ben’s arms. At least that much hadn’t changed about him. “Okay. Five minutes. I need five minutes. Then—I’ll be back.”
Ben nodded as he stood, not looking Rey in the eye, and all but stumbled back into his apartment. It was beyond strange to see him like this, clumsy and needy and, well, still a dickhead. Ben Solo. An Omega.
What a world.
Rey sprinted into her bedroom, trying to think of what she might need. Not much, since she was just next door, but it seemed like once Ben got her in his place, he probably wouldn’t let her go. She probably wouldn’t want to go, either. She definitely wouldn’t. It hurt being away from him for this long.
What a goddamn world.
She grabbed a canvas shopping bag from the floor and stuffed a few pairs of clean underwear and t-shirts inside. Her contacts case, the book she was reading, condoms from the bedside table.
She stopped cold. She wasn’t going to need a book. She wasn’t having a sleepover with a girlfriend. She was—taking a heat. She needed to call into work. She probably needed way more condoms. And snacks. What kind of food did Ben like? Oh, god she was too broke to really take care of him like she should. Maybe she could use her emergency credit card to order in some Postmates. Did Postmates deliver condoms?
Rey took a moment to breathe, but it only filled her head with a fresh wave of Ben. His scent clung to her clothes, to her skin, and she had the disgusting impulse to suck her fingers into her mouth so she could taste what his hair smelled like.
She was going next door to fuck her fuckboi neighbor. She hadn’t even thought twice about it. Skamagedon started wrecking his place because he missed his meds and she instantly jumped to, well, jump him.
Was that okay? Did she have time to text Finn to ask if that was okay?
There was a banging on the wall that separated their apartments and what sounded like a roar. Her heart wrenched in her chest and the heat between her legs was almost unbearable.
Your Omega needs you. He needs you to make this better.
Rey paused again. Her eyes darted to the bottom drawer of her dresser and her cheeks flushed with heat. No. No. Ben wouldn’t—
But then, Ben had supposedly been an Alpha up until half an hour ago, so what did Rey really know? She opened the drawer and moved aside the sweaters that never got worn. The box was matte black and unassuming, a supposed gag gift from Poe at their last non-denominational, Choose-Your-Own Holiday-mas party.
Rey thought of putting it on, of running her hands over it as Ben looked up at her with pleading eyes—
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing over there but I could smell you underwater! Get over here!”
Ben’s voice was only just muffled by the wall between them. She stuffed the box into her bag, grabbed some granola bars on the way out, and locked the door behind her.
She didn’t even have a chance to knock before Ben dragged her inside.
“Five minutes my ass,” he groaned, scooping her up into his arms and toting her in the direction of his bedroom while also trying to sneak his hands under her clothes. “Fuck, you smell incredble.”
His bed was a wreck, more blankets and pillows than actual mattress. He threw her into the tangle and started stripping off his clothes.
If he’d roared earlier, Rey felt like purring as she sank into his nest. She was picking up on other scents now, like baked bread and ripe apples. It made her think of her first paycheck from Maz’s Garage and how she’d spent an embarrassing amount of it on real groceries from the farmer’s market. That loaf of bread hadn’t made it through the weekend and Rey had laid slices of Honeycrisp apple onto everything she ate for the next several days.
There was a shirt of Ben’s caught in the mess of a bed, and Rey grabbed it, pressing it to her face and breathing deep. He smelled like everything good in the entire goddamn world.
“Rey.” His voice was low and broken and when Rey rolled over to look at him, her heaving breaths paused.
Big. That was a good word for him. Big. Big everything. Hands, chest, thighs, dick. Too big to be an Omega, but then, she was too skinny to be an Alpha, and somehow the world found a way to keep turning.
Beautiful was another good word for him. Smooth, pale skin that women would pay thousands of dollars for if it came in a bottle. Beautiful brown eyes, beautiful black hair. Even his cock, bobbing heavy and turgid between them, was beautiful.
“Rey,” he said again, and that bossy, pretentious, came-from-money-and-you-should-know-it voice of his was gone. In its place was something fragile and pleading. His voice, even deep and resonating, was that of an Omega, and it stirred something deep in her chest. Not just any Omega; hers.
Rey had to believe that those thoughts would stop once his heat finally broke. But in this moment, he was hers to care for.
“Come here,” she said, keeping her tone gentle, and Ben groaned as he climbed into bed with her.
He was hot to the touch, his skin fever-dry. He hissed when she brushed her fingers over his chest and down his sternum, whimpering as if in pain. Did he need an ice pack? Would it be weird to google that right now?
“I’ve never taken a heat before,” she admitted, because he’d find out soon enough, and Ben’s manic gaze caught with hers. “I—I didn’t think that I’d be any good.”
“Any good?” His hands were stroking over her, his reach so vast that he seemed to be able to touch every part of her. So perfect.
“At taking care of you,” she mumbled. Rey was so afraid he’d ask her to leave, even now, when he was naked and needing.
“I won’t know any difference,” he said, his voice little more than a croak. “I’ve never had a heat to give.”
She ached for him. That he wouldn’t know the difference between good and bad care was enough to make her want to cry. Rey grinned instead, feeling shaken but safe here with him. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?”
He didn’t answer, just tried to get closer to her, his body heat soaking through her sweater and leggings. His hand snaked up the front of her top, touching her flat stomach. He gasped, his pupils blowing wide.
“Rey, I wanna—”
“I know,” she said. And she did. She was slick and throbbing between her legs, and she knew as soon as her clothes came off, the talking portion of the afternoon would be over. It would be all instinct after that, and Rey didn’t know if she trusted hers.
“I’m going to kiss you first, okay?” It seemed right. Romantic. Kind. And she really, really wanted to.
Ben looked frightened, like she could actually hurt him, but he nodded. His eyes fluttered shut, and Rey was sure that was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen him do.
She’d had every intention of taking a moment to gentle them into this, but as soon as her lips met his, gentle was the furthest thought from her mind. If he smelled like heaven, he tasted like nirvana, bliss beyond paradise. Sweet and nutty like those Belgian chocolate seashells Finn had gotten for her birthday last year. Tart like lemonade on the hottest day of August. Hot like her first morning cup of coffee, like that perfect coffee he’d made just for her. Smoky like the clove cigarettes that Maz smoked on their lunch breaks. Everything that made her feel safe and strong, here at the tip of her tongue.
Rey climbed on top of him, digging her fingers into his hair and delved deep.
She felt like she understood things better. Now she knew why it was called the biological imperative, beyond the purely scientific. It felt as if her very atoms knew what to do. There was much less thinking involved than she would have guessed. She certainly didn’t feel calmer the more she touched Ben, but she did feel clearer. There was still a frenetic energy to this, but her thoughts were focused.
Ben was her responsibility, and all she wanted was to please him. It didn't feel like a particularly Alpha mindset, but it was hers.
Ben was gasping when she broke away from him, and she wasn't far behind. He was fire beneath her, hot and crackling, and Rey was happy to be consumed.
"I wish we'd had more time...before. We could have talked about—about what you want."
"Everything," he groaned. "If it's you, I want it all."
Rey felt her already flushed face grow warmer. If it's you. Those were dangerous words to a girl from nothing and nowhere. She was so aware that she was still fully clothed, sitting astride his waist with his damp cock nudging at her spandex-cotton-blend covered bottom. She knew he had to feel how wet she was, even through her leggings.
"Do you think you can—?"
She was a terrible Alpha. She wasn’t even naked. She couldn't even say the words! What if he expected her to be bossy? In charge? To talk dirty? She couldn't even say the word knot.
"Not yet," he said, seeming to understand. "I just need—"
And she understood, too. Thank god for that.
"My bag," she said as she stroked her hands over his chest and arms. Petting his fevered body as if that would help. "I brought a—" Strap on. "—a thing."
Because he was perfect and perfectly hers, Ben's arms were long enough to reach her bag where she'd dropped it without having to dislodge her from where she straddled him. He handed it over.
"Heavy," he said. She nodded.
Rey looked into the bag, down at the matte black box. Her hand shook as she drew it out, and Ben was trembling beneath her, hands tightening on her thighs as she pulled off the lid.
This was stupid. He was going to toss her out onto the welcome mat.
“What is it?” Ben asked, and his voice didn’t sound frightened. He sounded interested, eager.
She drew out the long, thin dildo, as classy and black as its packaging. The harness was a little more utilitarian, sturdy and understated. Ben’s grip was bruising now, but he was being so, so quiet. She risked a glance at his face and he nodded shakily as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
Rey laid the things on his broad stomach, a perfectly serviceable table. His eyes were riveted on the dildo—until Rey pulled off her sweatshirt. His eyes snapped up at that, going wide and dark at the sight of her modest chest. No bra, because why bother? There just wasn’t much to hold up. Ben let go of her thighs and made as if to reach for her. She jolted, moving to clumsily pull off her yoga leggings, which included her perching on his wonderfully muscular thigh while she tried to shimmy them off without kneeing him in the balls.
She snatched up the harness, just as awkwardly trying to pull it on without actually removing her now bare ass from his body. Then she resettled, actually swinging her mile long leg over her torso to get back into position.
Which wasn’t even the right position if she actually meant to penetrate him. Her gaze caught on the dildo just laying stark against the pale skin of his belly and her eyes filled with embarrassed tears.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “This is dumb. I don’t know what I’m doing. I was just thinking that you might like— Nevermind. I look ridiculous.”
“Please,” he said, his voice just a croak now. “Rey. God, you have no idea how much I want you right now. No. Fucking. Idea.”
He gripped her hips and moved her so easily, plunking her down on the mattress between his now spread thighs. And suddenly, she had a very, very good idea of how much he wanted her.
Rey let out a shaking breath, her still-damp eyes settling on the heavy, solid length of his cock. She reached out, and with a glance to his face for permission, she wrapped her hand around him. Ben hissed, arching his back and gritting his teeth, and Rey drew her hand away.
“No, no, please,” he begged, reaching blindly for her and gripping his hand over hers on his length. He groaned, moving her hand a few scant inches. He looked around with wild eyes, then grabbed the dildo that lay abandoned on the mattress beside him, handing it over. “If—if you still want to. I have—lube. In the bedside table.”
Rey swallowed the pooling saliva in her mouth as she nodded. She wanted this, all of this, every clumsy fucking minute of it. Another moment and he’d poured surprisingly true-to-life lube into her palm. She slicked it over the toy and over him, and he pumped his hand lightly over himself as Rey’s fingers wandered downwards. She could take care of him, and he wouldn’t care how much she fumbled her way through it.
Her fingers were long and slender and she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to work him open enough. She shouldn’t have; he was so eager that he took her easily. One finger, then two, then three. He felt good, hot and tight, and the noises rippling out of him were making her ache. She felt her body clenching around nothing, begging for completion.
But this moment was about Ben. About his comfort and pleasure. And giving that felt so, so good.
His hand was pulsing on the tip of his cock and his thighs were spread so wide he was shaking with the strain. Beautiful, so beautiful, and ready. Rey eased her hand away and replaced her touch with the warmed silicone of the toy. Ben flinched and she stilled.
“Are you alright? I can—”
“No, no, no, no. Stop checking on me, Alpha, and fuck me. Please.”
Alpha. She hadn’t expected that title to appeal so much to her.
“Okay,” she soothed. “Okay."
Then she pushed inside.
Ben sobbed and laughed at once, a joyful, thankful sound, and it warmed Rey all over. She worked the toy into him inch by inch, twisting her wrist to find the places that pleased her Omega the best. He was noisy, her boy, so it wasn’t difficult to determine when she’d succeeded. She moved to fit the base of the dildo into the harness—something she should have done before it was inside her lover, but she’d know for next time—and once her hands were free, she smoothed them over his pale thighs and stomach. Her hips knew how to move, her hands knew how to caress. Her body knew how to be this for Ben.
“Rey,” he moaned. His hands were grabbing at the pillows and sheets and his hair. A pretty, pretty mess, all for her. Ben was gasping then holding his breath, his eyes squeezed closed as if trying to ward off the conclusion to this.
“Stop holding back,” she breathed. “I have you, and we have all the time in the world.”
Ben shook his head as his cheeks burned red. His hair was spread out on his pillow, and Rey could see for the first time that his ears were almost comically large. Jesus Christ, she could fall in serious love with those ears.
“Let go, Omega,” she said, and he did.
Every moment of this had been the best of her life, but when Ben came under her, Rey realized something she’d missed before. This wasn’t good and wonderful and perfect because it was Ben, her snobby neighbor with dateable teeth and a boner for music that was only okay. Who smelled like all of her favorite things and lived in low income housing but slept on thousand-thread-count sheets. It was all those things and more because Ben was her mate. Hers entirely, from start to finish.
Rey didn’t want an Omega. She wanted her Omega, and it seemed as though she’d found him. She wouldn’t tell him yet, she thought. He was in heat and that wasn’t really fair. But later, once the dust settled, she could clue him into the truth about them.
It was just that: them. A package deal, two parts of a whole.
It wasn’t scary at all.
.
.
Today, 3:18 am
Poe Damn-son
Rey. It’s Finn.
Why are you using Poe’s phone? At three in the morning?
🤔🤔
🍑🍌
Later.
Rose just said you’re at Ben’s place.
Why is Rose there? At three in the morning?
🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔
🍑🍌🍑
Later later.
So he’s not an Alpha? Is that why I haven’t heard from you
in four days? Did he REALLY think you were an Omega too? Poe
says that he totally went into heat on purpose.
Did he play ska the whole time? Did he roast your coffee beans?
Rey.
Rey.
Rey.
REY.
🍆
The End.