Bad Idea

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/17071718.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo
Additional Tags: Huddling For Warmth, Millennium Falcon - Freeform, Post-Canon,
Canon Compliant, Dry Humping, Cold Weather, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Series: Part 3 of The Rise of Skywalker One Shots
Stats: Published: 2018-12-20 Words: 3,544 Chapters: 1/1
 Bad Idea
by Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo)

Summary

More slowly than he probably should, he takes off his boots and puts his saber next to hers on
the small surface by the bed. Then he lingers for a moment, staring at the scene and trying to
subdue the half-existential, half-erotic pleasure that coalesces inside him at the sight. Before
Luke attempted to take him out, before Snoke’s voice became so loud inside his head, Kylo
fancied himself a scholar of sorts. The symbolism of their weapons laid out so close that
they’re almost touching is impossible to miss, just like the almost obscene pleasure it incites
in him, and he really, really should not go anywhere near her with his hands itching to just—
“You coming?”

Or:

It might be very cold on the Falcon, but huddling together for warmth is still a terrible idea.

Notes

I originally wrote this fic a few months ago for the Babies at the Border Anthology, back
when the first few EPIX photos leaked and neither Rey not Kylo seemed to be in them
(which prompted a few people to speculate that maybe they were off to some kind of mission
together). Anyway, those speculations are what inspired the fic. Thanks to the organizers of
the Anthology, and all my love and gratitude to LoveofEscapism for the amazing Beta and
encouragement, and to ReyloConvert for explaining the difference between 'having it out' and
'having it off'!
Also, thanks to my very own Elizabeth Swann, Reylolujah, for making the banner(s)!
Also, please check out the other Reylo fic that was part of the anthology, which is delightful
and amazing and I really loved it! It's called Joy Writing by
strawberrycupcake_huckleberrypie and you 100% want to read it ♡♡♡.

See the end of the work for more notes

That is—Kylo has about ten billion problems at this stage, but the most pressing, the one that
has him grit his teeth, tense his spine and clench his fingers around the hydrospanner, is the
cold.

“Are you almost done?”

“The hyperdrive is—”

“—about to explode?”

He grunts as he pulls the panel shut and closes the circuit. “I think I fixed it. What about the
sensor dish?” He emerges from under the compartment and Rey is—smiling at him.

Which is new. And a bit odd, not because it’s new, but because her teeth are clearly
chattering. Earlier, when the temperature began to drop he gave her his shawl and even his
gloves, though neither seems to have done much to improve the situation. Instinctively, Kylo
pulls within himself for some additional help.

“That’s fixed, too. I think we’re good. For now, at least.”

Kylo pushes a few buttons and resets the monitoring console. “This ship is even more of a
hunk of junk than I remember.”

“You know, upkeep of the Falcon would be much easier if we weren’t forced to hold stuff
together with tape because the Resistance is cut off from trading outposts. Because everyone
in the galaxy is too scared to cooperate with us.” She looks at him pointedly, obviously in
search of some kind of reaction. Kylo doesn’t comply. “Anyway. Systems should be
rebooting and getting back to normal.”

He nods. “How long?”

“Probably—” Rey tightens the shawl around her shoulders as she leans in to look at the
monitor “—ten hours or so? Which would still leave us plenty of time to get to Ord Mantell.”

They are due there in forty hours; on a mission that is so dangerous and harebrained that has
Kylo wondering if temporarily joining forces with the Resistance is by far the most idiotic
idea he’s ever had—even though it might very well be the only way to prevent Hux from
turning the galaxy into the shitshow he’s clearly aiming for.

Except that, of course, it’s not quite the Resistance Kylo’s allying himself with. It’s Rey.
“The environmental controls are picking up again, too. I think the temperature is getting
better.”

“It’s not. Unless someone tinkered with it in the past twenty years, it’ll be the last system to
go back online.” It’s apparent that by now, Rey knows the Falcon well, but—not like Kylo.
Never like Kylo. It’s muscle memory for him, engraved in his brain when it was still plastic
and soft, since before he was a toddler.

Rey is frowning. “But I feel warm. I can actually move my fingers.”

“That’s me.” Kylo shrugs. “Well. It’s the Force.”

“What?”

“I’m keeping you warm.”

“Oh.” She flushes a bit. “Thank you.”

For some unknown reason, Kylo is having issues holding her gaze now. So he wipes his
hands on the dark blue pants he just changed into—being Supreme Leader comes with some
notoriety, and Rey insisted on him throwing out what she referred to as the ‘lord of darkness’
look—and then pulls a bit at his own sleeve as he mutters, “I’m not doing it for you. The
sound of teeth chattering was annoying me.”

It’s complicated, this. All of this. They’ve been enemies, and then something altogether
different that Kylo doesn’t think he could define as ‘friends’, and then enemies again in a
possibly even more contentious way. She’d shut the bond Snoke had opened after Crait, and
he’d hated her with burning intensity for how silent and empty his head had felt. But a few
days earlier, after deciding that joining forces was probably smarter than failing separately,
she’d cracked it open again, with the result that now he doesn’t know how to be with her, in
her proximity, without—

“How are you doing it? The heat.”

“It’s a variant of pyrokinesis.” He thinks. He’s not sure, it’s not something he was ever
formally taught.

“How do you—”

He wouldn’t know how to put it in words, so he just beckons Rey into his mind to show her.
Which, as far as ideas goes, fits beautifully into the sea of bad ideas he’s had over the past
few days. There is something oddly intimate, about this. No—intimate is not the right word.
There’s always been an odd sort of intimacy between them, because of what they are, Kylo
supposes. But having her tentatively inch inside his mind and look around like this, because
he explicitly invited her and she accepted his summons…it’s positively sexual. Filthy, almost.

Kylo feels himself begin to get hard.

“I see how you… I see it, but I can’t do it.” Her brow is furrowed.
“It’s fine. It takes a while. I can take care of you.” Which is probably not a smart thing to say,
since they’re both blushing now. He didn’t mean it like that. Or maybe he did. He truly
doesn’t have a clue.

He clears his throat and turns towards the console. “You should sleep while we wait for the
Falcon to be usable again. The moon is deserted, and this corridor is so out the way that no
one is going to just stumble here. It’s safe.”

Here’s a good idea. Half-decent, at least. It doesn’t make up for the idiocy of this mission or
for putting himself in the situation of being alone with Rey again, but if she were to go to
sleep it would get her out his sight—and possibly, though unlikely, even out of his thoughts—
for a few hours at least. Kylo is almost pleased with himself.

“Okay.” Rey’s tone is uncertain.

“I’ll stay in the cockpit and keep watch.”

“Shouldn’t you sleep, too?”

He freezes in the act of pulling up the system overview on the control panel. “If I sleep, I
can’t keep you warm.”

Rey frowns. “You need to sleep just as much as I do,” she tells him with that reasonable tone
she must have developed some time in the past year or so.

“I’m fine.”

“But you do.”

“It’s a simple matter of logistics, I can’t make sure that you don’t freeze to death if I go to
sleep, so—”

“You can if you sleep with me.”

“I don’t see how that would—”

“If we warm each other up.”

He thinks, in the loud silence that follows, that Rey maybe wants to take it back. Kylo sure
wishes she would.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea—”

“Please. Let’s just… I’m really tired.”

“Right. Which is why you should—”

“But I’ll feel terrible if you have to stay awake. I won’t be able to sleep. I—please. I thought
we said we were…” She bites into her lip. “…Allies. At least for this mission.”
He can feel a muscle clench in his jaw. “Allies don’t sleep in the same bed.”

Rey is staring at him like he’s being unreasonable and foolish. “Not if the environmental
system works, no.”

He sighs. And then shrugs, because—this, this is the most idiotic idea Kylo has ever heard,
and he uses a saber built around a cracked kyber crystal on a daily basis. But she offered, and
he hasn’t slept since he found out about Hux’s plan—some three days ago—and they really
will need to be at the top of their game once they arrive to Ord Mantell. And yet, all of this
doesn’t even matter, because if he acquiesces, he won’t be doing it in consideration of any of
these very sound reasons, but because… he wants to.

The possibility that either of them will die in the next two days is so solid, Kylo can almost
touch it. He has never been afraid of death, but the idea that something might happen to Rey
is terrifying. So:

“Fine.”

That sea of bad ideas—it’s rapidly becoming an ocean.

Rey nods. “Okay.”

Kylo keeps busy, trying not think about the fact that Rey is taking her hair down, or
rummaging in all the compartments of the sleeping area looking for covers that they’ll share,
or climbing into the alcove bed to lie down. He checks one last time that the systems reboot
is progressing smoothly, and then again, and a third time because why not; after that he
activates the sensors that’ll tell them if anyone approaches the Falcon—no one will, they left
no trace behind—and then there is just nothing else for him to buy time with.

More slowly than he probably should, he takes off his boots and puts his saber next to hers on
the small surface by the bed. Then he lingers for a moment, staring at the scene and trying to
subdue the half-existential, half-erotic pleasure that coalesces inside him at the sight. Before
Luke attempted to take him out, before Snoke’s voice became so loud inside his head, Kylo
fancied himself a scholar of sorts. The symbolism of their weapons laid out so close that
they’re almost touching is impossible to miss, just like the almost obscene pleasure it incites
in him, and he really, really should not go anywhere near her with his hands itching to just—

“You coming?”

Kylo nods and lifts the covers, feeling the thin mattress of the cot dip under his weight.
Bundled as she is, Rey still manages to seem very small beside him. And very cold. He will
need to get closer—as in, actually close to her, if they’re going to warm each other up. Since
that was the plan. He inches towards her, trying not to think about his father, about the fact
that he was probably conceived in this bed, trying not remember that the last time he and Rey
were this physically proximate they were fighting side by side; for those long minutes he was
almost convinced that after their battle he would—they would—

“Do you think you were conceived in this bed?”

She laughs, low in her throat, and though it’s not the first time he hears her do it, it’s
definitely the first time she does it with him. It makes her relax and burrow a little closer, and
almost automatically Kylo presses her into himself, slotting her head onto his throat and
wrapping his arm around her waist. Rey sighs, and he can feel her breath warming his skin.

He is not manipulating the Force anymore, but he’s not cold now, not at all.

“Well. Han and Leia would be happy. If they… you know.”

“That we’re stranded on the third moon of a bumfuck planet and trying to sleep on a cot
where they probably had sex?” Kylo doesn’t consider himself a prude, but the idea is a bit
much for him.

“No. Well, maybe. But I meant, that you’re back with the Resistance.”

“I’m not with Resistance,” he says automatically. Rey dislodges herself a little to look up at
him, eyes dark and serious, so he adds in a softer tone: “I’m not with anyone.” That was the
point of all of this.

“You’re with the First Order.”

“I—” He thinks of his Knights. Of his Council. Of what they tried to accomplish within the
galaxy, something new and better. Then he thinks of Hux and those he commands, of his
Generals. The Order is now a mess of factions, and Kylo most definitely does not plan to
align with most of them. “No. I’m not.”

Rey’s lips tighten. “You don’t seem so sure of it.”

“I’m here. Am I not?” He’s not going to hide his reluctance from her. The link in his mind is
open, and he’s not going to be the one to close it. She can help herself to whatever she wishes
inside his mind.

“Will you go back to them, though?” Rey bites into her lip. “After Hux is taken care of.
When you and your Knights are reunited.”

Truly, Kylo has no idea. What he used to want, and what he wants now….

He sighs, pushing Rey’s face back into his neck, feeling the bond and his nerve endings hum
with the pleasure of having her so close to him. They fit together so well, for being so
different; the Force must be having a hand in this.

For now, all that matters to him is keeping her alive. “I don’t know.”

“You’re not… Ben. You’re not like that. Like them.”

I am worse, he means to say. You have no idea. You called me a monster, and you still have
no idea. “Go to sleep, Rey.”
He is actively pressing her down and into himself, but Rey has a long history of being
stronger than he gave her credit for. Since the very beginning. She frees herself and lifts
herself up, leaning on his chest, and this is too close for him to think properly. He can feel her
mind press against his, and has to force himself not to just let her in.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“You said you were tired and that we should both—”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she repeats, staring him in the eyes.

She knows it, too, he thinks. She is worried about the mission. That it could go wrong.

“What do you want, then?”

“This could be it. There could be the last time we…” She shakes her head. “Because I die, or
—” her voice breaks “—or you die, or because you go back to the Order. And I don’t want to.
I don’t want to—”

“No.” Kylo briefly closes his eyes. What an extraordinarily stupid idea, this was. “No, Rey.”

“You don’t mean it.”

“You don’t even know what you’re—”

It shouldn’t take him by surprise, the kiss. Nor the way she slides her hands in his hair to hold
his head and flattens her lips against his.

It’s barely a kiss, really.

It’s terrifying.

Kylo leans back to look at her. “Fuck, Rey.”

She is not breathing normally. “I know you wanted me to do it. It’s in your head—they all
are. The things you want me to do.”

He shakes his head. As it turns out, he can’t breathe very well, either. “This is the worst idea
either of us has ever had.” And they have both had so many.

As usual, Rey surprises him and smiles. “You mean, worse than that time we decided to take
on Snoke’s guard? All eight of them?”

He has to smile back. “I was thinking about that time we decided to have it out on a
imploding star.”

“Do you remember on Hoth? When you chased me with your ship through that weird cave?”

“You mean, when you made me chase you?”

“Mmm.”
Without him realizing it—no, he realized alright, he just didn’t stop her—she has shifted until
she’s on top of him, hands on his chest as she looks down at him. The cover she had wrapped
around herself is now hanging from her shoulders, shielding them from the cold and the rest
of the galaxy, forming a private shrine of sorts. All too easy to forget common sense, when
all he can see and feel is her.

“We made it through all our other bad ideas,” she’s saying, a little breathless. “Maybe we
should give this one a fair chance, too?”

There is no way she doesn’t know how hard she has made him. Just by being here, slipping in
and out of his mind. Just by existing.

“I think we shouldn’t—”

The kiss is better than the last one—possibly because this time she parts her lips, and artless
but resolute, she coaxes him to do the same, and then slides her tongue just a bit inside his
mouth, just enough to lick him. It’s—messy. Very messy. And wet. Kylo whimpers, wonders
approximately how long he has before coming in his pants and making all of this even
messier.

Rey’s hands slide in his hair. “Ben.”

This is fine, he tells himself, trying to hold on. It’s a kiss. Just a kiss. He has kissed people
before. Just because this is Rey, it doesn’t need to be the end of the world. It doesn’t have to
lead to him losing every last inch of control. Except that—

“You need to stop wiggling,” he tells her, a little disconcerted by how rusty his voice sounds.

“Why?” she asks into his throat.

“Because.”

“You don’t want me to stop.”

“Rey…”

“It’s in your head. I can see it like I’m thinking it myself—you want me to be naked, and to
take my hair down, and you wonder, if I were to suck on you, how warm and tight my mouth
would feel on your—”

He tries—he actually tries to slam the bond shut. He tries to shove her out, because he has all
of this in his mind and even more, and she cannot possibly know that—

“—and you hope that I am wet down there. You hope I’m very wet, because that would make
it easier for you to—Ah. You want to hold me down and put your cock inside me and hold it
there and come as deep as you can, and sometimes you think about making a baby out of it
and going elsewhere, just the three of us, and forgetting about—”

Kylo flips them so that he’s on top of her, and covers her mouth with his hand. If she’s
anchored inside his brain so far down that he can’t kick her out, at least this way he’ll make
her stop saying these things to him.

Rey—she just laughs. And shimmies her hips under him so that he’s perfectly slotted to—

Horrible idea.

“Shit. I—”

She wriggles free of his hand. “You can, you know?”

“Rey. Rey, if you continue I—”

She is moving her hip and biting her lips, and he can feel through their link how pleasant the
friction is, how wet their clothes are getting, how bruising his grip on her hips, her ass. “You
can fuck me. You can come inside me. As deep as you want. And you can stay for as long as
you like, and once you’ve made me wet enough you can—”

Kylo thinks that he’s the one who comes. He comes and comes, and just like he knows how
sore her nipples are against the rough cloth of her top, how tightly-strung her muscles, she
must be feeling his spine as it liquifies into his orgasm. Because she comes, too, and it seems
to last whole minutes, the two of them sharing the pleasure like it’s what they were born to
do.

“Fuck. Rey.”

When it seems to be almost over he flips them again, because he’s a beast and too heavy for
her, and cups her face to his throat. She is breathing loudly in his ear, little mewling sounds
that keep Kylo as hard as a pike.

“I think—” She bursts into laughter. “I think this... it was a great idea.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck, in less than ten hours they’ll be flying towards what’s probably their death.

Fuck, what just happened makes the thought around ten times more unbearable.

Fuck, he wants to do it again. And again. And again.

“No, Rey. No, it wasn’t.”

“Possibly the first good idea we’ve had.”

He hugs her tighter to himself.

“Rey.”

“Though it was mainly my idea, so I shouldn’t let you take credit for—”

“Be quiet. Please, just be be quiet for a moment. I can’t think when you…”
He can’t focus. He can’t guard himself. He can only think of her, and this is a disaster. This
might be unsolvable. Rey must understand, because she settles on him with a deep sigh, and
remains silent for long minutes, playing with the line of his jaw and the curve of his ear.

“You are so handsome.”

“I’m not.”

“I thought so from the very beginning. When I knew I should hate you.”

He shakes his head. This—it’s impossible. He will take her away. He will hide her
somewhere and complete his mission alone, and she will be safe, safe because of him and
safe from him, and he—

“What about with me?”

Kylo thinks that his brain must have short-circuited beyond repair. Because he has no idea
what she’s saying.

“What?”

“You said you don’t want to be with the Resistance or with the First Order.”

“I don’t want to talk about—”

“What about me?”

He bends his head, and finds her staring up at him.

“What about with me? Ben, what if we…”

Rey averts her eyes elsewhere.

What about with me.

For the first time since his grandfather’s lightsaber broke in two in front of him, he feels
something that is not his usual impulse to burn to the ground, to annihilate and destroy.

Hope, his mother would say. There is no night that can defeat it.

Kylo presses her further into himself, until he can feel the hot chuff of her breath on his
throat.

“I don’t know, Rey.” Down the corridor of the Falcon, something beeps and then buzzes. The
environmental systems are functional again. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
End Notes

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