Chapter Text
There's a reason why she works with machines.
Rey struggles to find the reason at this very second, when her ass has been in the same chair and her eyes on the same code for hours now, but she's sure that it's there somewhere in the depths of her soul. Right now her brain feels like it's melting. She can't even begin to count how many curses she's muttered under her breath. Hundreds, probably. Thousands, more likely. Definitely not less than necessary, though.
“Hey,” she hears her coworker, Rose, call from behind her. “Take a breather. And if you happen to walk by the break room, bring me back a coffee?”
Rey swivels around. A chorus of angels sing in her head as her eyes readjust to the overhead lights. Something that isn't a fluorescent screen, thank God. “So you basically just want a coffee.”
“How dare you! I resent the implication that I’m anything but considerate. And here I was, about to ask you how your date went when you got back, too.”
“I’ll save you the wait: it was terrible.” She laughs at how quickly Rose's expression flattens. “He got not one, not two, but three,” Rey dramatically holds up three fingers, “Bumble matches during dinner.”
“No,” Rose gasps.
“And he checked them.”
Her friend claps a hand over her mouth. “No! Tell me you left.”
“Yup,” Rey nods, her lips popping the ‘p’. Her joints yell at her as she rises from the chair, knees begging her to sit back down. “Splash of milk? Anything else?”
Rose shakes her head and blows air kisses at Rey's back. “Just that. Love you, Rey!”
As much as it pains her to drag herself away from her code, she has to admit that the walk is much needed. Rey felt herself winding tighter with each line she combed through while looking for the problem. Eventually the characters started jumbling together, but she couldn’t force herself to stop. Bugs certainly didn't stop for her.
There's a crick in her neck from her earlier power nap atop her desk. Aches in her back from the hours she spends slouching. Bags under her eyes peeking out under cheap concealer from the countless restless nights, notches tallying in the back of her skull. Taunting her. Comes with the territory, they said. Welcome to your own personal brand of hell that is software development, they said. At least the money will afford her the therapy she'll need down the line due to this career.
On the plus side, this job means she can dive into work and keep her human interaction to a minimum. Do as little of the thing she hates as she needs to. On the down side, this job means she has to dive into work, keeping her human interaction to a minimum. Rey can't remember the last time she attended weekly friends night. Telling Rose about another of her dismal dates just now is the most she’s shared of her personal life in weeks. The lack of beer and good-natured gossip is making her cranky.
Just as she's about to turn the corner to the break room, she hears an aggravated sigh that makes her instinctively soften her steps. Force of habit.
Peering into the room, she spots a hulking body—one that can only belong to the tallest man in the office—pressing against one of the counters, his arms deep into an open cabinet. Sounds of cups shuffling around and empty boxes being thrown fill the room, and Rey is perfectly content to lean against the doorframe and watch. Nowhere else she’d rather be than here, watching Benjamin Solo have trouble with… something. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
A few minutes pass. Ben still hasn't found whatever he is looking for, and Rey starts to feel the itch for caffeine.
“You alright?” She must have let out an unflattering sound when the back of his head knocks against the roof of the cupboard in shock, because he shoots her a withering glare as he palms his nape. Serves him right for being that tall. Be normal person sized. Rey isn't short, by any means. At a solid 5'7" (5'9" with heels), she's perfectly comfortable with her height. Standing next to Ben Solo, however, makes her feel the smallest she's ever felt.
“Guess you’re not as busy as your Teams status says you are,” Ben says. Defensively, his arms cross over his chest. The sleeves of his sweater bulge around his biceps, highlighting every dip and hard ridge. The sight is obscene.
“Simmer down, Teams Police. I’m only here for coffee.” She pushes up from the door frame and points towards the Keurig next to Ben. “Are you using that?”
“Yes. I was.”
“Didn’t look like it.”
“Surely, because you’re an expert on the ins and outs of my personal agenda.”
“Because it looked like,” she hisses through her teeth, “you took it upon yourself to clean the cabinets. What are they hiding in there?” Your shining personality?
A muscle under his eye twitches. “I was looking for the coffee pods.”
“Find any?” Rey cocks her head to the side. Her lips quirk into a smug smile.
Ben’s hands spread in front of him, gesturing to the frustrating emptiness in them. “Does it look like I did?”
Her eyes flicker from his slowly reddening face to the row of drawers underneath the Keurig, then back up. He seems to have understood her message when his gigantic body bends down to fish for K-cups within the mess. His back faces her, muscles straining against dark fabric and rippling with every movement. It draws Rey’s focus away from the snippy conversation to something much more inappropriate. Something ill-advised. Irrational.
No, Rey is not checking Ben out. Absolutely not. Actually, she's laughing to herself over how he can't find a simple cardboard box with coffee pods in them, based on the increasing frequency of grunts and huffed curses as he goes through a third drawer. They have bright colours on them, for God’s sake. Even a child can pick them out from a shelf.
If his tense body doesn't advertise his annoyance enough, the slam of the drawer after Ben pulls out a yellow and brown box does. Then the room goes mostly silent. Nothing but the drip, drip, drip of the Keurig as the two of them purposely try to look at anything besides each other. It is a miracle they’ve lasted this long without going for the other’s neck. Must be their longest record yet.
Of course he didn’t ask if I wanted one. Ass.
The scent of hazelnut wafts into the air while Rey waits for Ben to leave. She counts down the seconds in her head until the machine will stop and it'll be her turn.
Softer than Rey would expect, Ben clears his throat. Her focus snaps to him, but he makes no indication that he's going to speak.
“Yes?” she prompts, impatient. Testy. The click of her heels bounces around the walls, dancing around the two of them in the otherwise deafening silence.
Ben opens his mouth. Closes it. Runs a distracting hand through his long, inky hair. Eventually, he says, “It’s typically frowned upon to take pleasure calls during business hours.” Rey despises how she latches onto his voice. Hates the low cadence to his words that send a chill down her spine and the sinful drawl that tempts her into agreeing with him. Most of all, she resents the growing desire to go along with whatever he says just so she can hear him talk some more.
Wait. “What?”
Ben narrows his eyes on her, honey with flecks of green. “This morning. When you were on the phone in the middle of the hallway.”
“I could say it’s typically frowned upon to eavesdrop on a stranger’s conversation,” she retorts, frowning. She knew she felt someone’s gaze on the back of her neck while she was talking to the post office earlier.
“We’re strangers?”
“That’s usually what they call two people who don’t know each other, yes.” Rey takes a deep breath to settle the bubbling annoyance, and the smell of hazelnut finally registers in her head. “Those are mine!” She's beside Ben in a heartbeat. The unmistakable box of vanilla hazelnut coffee pods is half empty, contents spilling onto the counter.
Instantly, she's taken back to her childhood. Moments when she stashed whatever scraps she got her hands on underneath her pillow, or in her shoes. Evenings when she had to chase away a stray cat to get a mostly-eaten box of takeout in a dumpster. Times when it made sense for her to be so possessive over food. Times that aren't now.
Ben takes a step back from the counter—from her—and crosses his arms again. “They’re communal.” If him staring down at her is an intimidation tactic of his, it's a pretty piss poor one.
Rey cranes her neck to look him square in the eye. “Everyone knows these are mine. No one in the office even uses them but me.”
“Then you’re wrong.” The Keurig sputters between them, buttons lighting up to indicate the machine is finished. “On both points.” He edges closer to his plain, black mug, his body tense and movements tight as Rey stays rooted in her spot. Not to give him even the tiniest bit of space. She is ready to stand her ground for her coffee pods.
It doesn't escape her notice that the fridge is behind her and that he’ll have to ask her to move to get to it. It doesn't appear to be an issue, though. Ben just stands there, brings the cup to his irritatingly plush lips, and takes a sip of scalding coffee. Without so much as a flinch.
“You’re the worst,” Rey snarls. “Enjoy my coffee.” Then she storms past him and out of the room, her arm grazing his in the process. She ignores the sudden burst of warmth against her shirt and shoves down the feelings it stirs in her belly. The childish anger clouding her head makes her miss the softness that edges into Ben's features when they touched.
By the time she makes it a step away from her desk, she remembers Rose wanted a coffee. She remembers that she also wanted a coffee. The dryness to her throat calls to her, but there is no way in hell that Rey is turning around and risking another interaction with Ben. Not a chance. So she sits in her less than comfortable chair and hopes Rose doesn't ask her about it.
But life would be too easy if she doesn't. Rey can't have that, now, can she?
“So,” Rose starts. She repeats herself louder when Rey doesn't remove her headphones, “So… How was your walk?”
“Peachy,” Rey grumbles.
“Anything happen? Like a spontaneous Keurig combustion?”
Finally, Rey slides her headphones down to rest around her neck. She glares daggers at her screen, and she swears she sees her code tremble. Either that or it's the sleep deprivation playing tricks on her again. “Oh, nothing. Just a fun run-in with everyone’s favourite senior engineer.”
Behind her, Rose huffs a silent laugh. “Careful, Poe hears you say that and you might find yourself working on a project with Ben.”
“I’ve already done that, and it was…” She opts to let the sound of pure fatigue laced in her groan speak for her instead. If she can help it, she’d prefer to never work under the hellish senior lead ever again. He didn’t manage to make her cry during those three months, but the same can't be said for some of the other team members. He did, however, help Rey reach a 5K PR since she ran after work every time he pissed her off. The angrier she is, the harder the pushes herself, and Ben is very good at getting on Rey's nerves.
“Have you two kissed yet?”
That gets Rey’s attention. Her body almost flies out of her seat from how quickly she spins around. “Pardon?”
“Don’t you ‘pardon’ me.” Rose points her finger right at her junior. “It’s a pretty straightforward question.”
“I thought you had a mini stroke just now. I was just making sure you didn’t need immediate medical attention after asking that.” Rose must be losing her mind. Who asks that? What kind of question is that? The extent of Rey wanting to be in close proximity with Ben ends at her daydreams of strangling him in his office. Assuming her hands would even meet around a neck that thick.
Rose rolls her eyes. “You’re being intentionally dense.”
“I can promise you that I’m not. By the way,” Rey glances around in case a particular giant is standing by, “did you know he's the person stealing my coffee?”
“Really? That's weird... He doesn’t drink coffee,” Rose responds immediately. Like it's the most obvious thing in the world, or an inside joke among the other employees.
“I saw him, Rose. Even told him that those were mine and no one else on the floor even likes that flavour. He just gave me that annoyed look he gives to everyone—you know, the one you’d give to a kid having a tantrum?—and told me I was wrong.”
Resting her elbows beside her laptop, Rose hums. “Hm, I’ve never seen him drink coffee before. Whenever Poe offers to go for a run, Ben always complains about how awfully processed it is, or whatever. Brings it up a lot on our way to meetings. Did you know that there’s a huge slave labour issue in the coffee industry?” Rose points her thumb at her chest. “I do. I know that because Ben had a whole rant about it.”
Rey’s nose wrinkles. “So you're saying he did that just to—Really? Just to piss me off?!” She’d like to say that can’t possibly be true, but she knows better. She knows Ben better than that. Everyone is aware of Ben’s moods when he can swing from anything between abrasive to antagonistic at the drop of a hat. There's probably a line about it somewhere in every new hire’s contract: Don’t poke the office grump, even when he pokes you first. He can smell fear.
“Maybe. I’d say he’s nicer than you’d think, but—” Rose shrugs when Rey snorts, rather unattractively— “I wouldn’t put it past him. Especially since you two have this weird thing going on—”
“We do not have a weird thing.” He's just an insufferable ass who always seems to show up whenever Rey is already in a bad mood.
And occasionally she’ll get flashed by a sliver of pale skin or a peek of hard abs when his shirt lifts up whenever he stretches. And maybe it makes Rey’s thoughts wander, but that's unrelated. If their conversations weren’t so tense she may have even asked him what his workout routine was, one day.
Again, unrelated.
“It’s not even a big deal, just ask whichever intern stocks the room to get more vanilla hazelnut ones than they usually do.”
“It’s a big deal because that means I have to fight someone for them now! And not just anyone; the God damn human mountain.” A long-winded sigh tumbles from Rey's lips as she slumps against the back of her chair. “This is just what I need right now.”
“What you need right now is a decent night’s sleep and some time outside of this building. And to call Finn back. He texted me at, like, 2 this morning,” Rose chuckles. “I thought he was dying. He's worried sick that something must’ve happened to you since you haven’t been answering his calls.”
Great. Buggy code is the last thing on Rey’s mind now. Begrudgingly, she forces herself to face her computer again. It takes all of two seconds before she gives up just as quickly and crumples against the surface of her desk, sighing for what felt like ages.