Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ben always thought the worst thing about teaching middle school would be the smell. 

His college students hadn’t smelled. At least not like body odor. By that age, most of them had become well-acquainted with the use of deodorant. They did occasionally reek of tequila and vodka and whiskey as they meandered into his lecture hall. 

But then again, so had Ben. 

Which is why Ben Solo, at thirty-three years old and with a doctorate - a fucking doctorate - in American History, is now teaching at Resistance Middle School.

He’s lucky, really. After the shit he pulled at the university, he is fortunate to be teaching anywhere. He’s sober now, always wears pants out in public, and definitely hasn’t punched any more students. He is also still attending his therapy sessions, twice a month now, at his mother’s insistence. 

Despite years of evidence to the contrary, his mother still holds out hope for him. 

Also, it happens to be a requirement of his contract. Leia Organa is not only a relentless  mother, but also a terrifying principal as well. And she had made it quite clear to Ben that she had to pull several strings to convince the district to let her hire him, and even that was provisional. 

So he ignores the lingering smells in the hallways, the awkward clusters of giggling girls and gangly boys. He keeps his head down and his feet on the straight and narrow. He lets nothing, absolutely nothing, distract him from his job.

Especially not her.

Her being the teacher down the hallway. The one in the technology lab. The one with slender, nimble fingers that dance on the laptop keys and expertly repair broken headphones.

She actually smiles at the students.

She actually smiles at Ben . 

And Ben absolutely does not break his projector on purpose. 

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Rey truly can’t believe her luck.

Resistance Middle School is one of the best in the district, and well beyond where she imagined herself teaching her first year. She had met Principal Organa through Poe, and for some reason Rey couldn’t quite comprehend, the older woman had taken to her immediately. 

The technology teacher was retiring, she soon found out, and Leia was shopping for someone to replace her brother’s empty position. Rey has a degree in engineering, a license in middle grades education and a level of enthusiasm that would inspire snails.

She got the job.

There had been a significant amount of work to do to bring the lab up-to-date. Apparently Mr. Skywalker had been a fan of the classics. 

Which meant that Rey was spending her planning period googling things like “ what should i do with 300 floppy disks? ” and “ what kinds of printers use paper that has holes down both sides? ”

One thing Luke had been good at, however, was maintaining and repairing equipment around the school. Which is why Rey is surprised to see his nephew poking his head in her doorway a few minutes before the morning bell. 

“I need your help.”

His eyes are on the ground, trained to a spot about six inches from her shoes. 

Is he talking to me?

“My help?” Rey isn’t afraid of him, unlike some other first year teachers, but she is confused to hear her voice come out small and unsure.

“Yeah. Projector’s broken. Could you look at it?”

She notices him awkwardly working his bottom lip, and immediately has to remind herself to look back to his eyes.

“Sure, I can come in about fifteen minutes.” She is pleased at the confidence in her tone.

He nods once, and disappears from the doorway.

--------------------------------------------------------

Ben really isn’t sure what his plan is. 

For a moment he feels guilty. She is much younger than him, and has worked so hard at helping students, and making a good impression on his mother.

And now here he was, making her job, and her life, this much more difficult. And why? For the chance to see her, to talk to her, to have her undivided attention for just five minutes?

He is seriously weighing the option of just shutting his door, turning the light off and not using the projector for the rest of the year, and possibly his life, when he hears footsteps outside his door.

Looking up, he sees her grinning in the doorway, her lips stretched sweetly over perfect little teeth. And then she waves, she fucking waves, and Ben feels his hand raise in response awkwardly. Since when did he become a person who waves?  

He mentally adds this to his growing list of questionable things he finds himself doing for this woman, and motions to the white box mounted on the wall.

“It wouldn’t work this morning when I tried to turn it on.”

She practically glides over to the metal arm, pushing up on tiptoes to inspect the loose case and dangling wires. She narrows her eyes at the obviously manhandled device.

  “What did you do to it?” 

He doesn’t miss the suspicion in her tone. “Nothing,” he mutters too quickly, glancing towards the wall. 

“I’ve never seen an entire lens housing pop off by itself. You said it was like this when you came in? Like it happened overnight?” Her left eyebrow is raised, her hands moving to her hips.

“Well, we have some very large mice in the building. They often come out at night to look for food.” He adds lies about nocturnal mammal activity to his shame list. 

He watches as her eyes actually roll, and this time her voice reaches a level that most likely can be heard out in the hallway. 

“Why are you lying to me?”

The rational part of Ben is screaming inside his head, desperately pumping the breaks on this train wreck of a conversation. Begging him not to say the next three words that immediately tumble inexplicably from his lips.

“I’m not lying.”

Her jaw drops, first. He watches as a fire sparks to her eyes, and right about the time he realizes that his pants are somehow becoming increasingly tighter, an indignant blush flushes across her cheeks. 

“MR. SOLO, YOU ARE-” her shrill voice is cut off by the furious click of heels down the hallway. Ben knows that gait. 

His mother breezes through the doorway, an intense look on her face and a folder in her hands. She pauses for a moment, eyes flitting between the two teachers in front of her. He notices her nostrils flare, and he imagines she can smell the tension in the room. She glances at the papers she is holding, and a grin spreads across her face.   

“Well, good morning, dear!” She smiles warmly at Rey before turning back to her son. “Ben, sweetheart, I need to ask a favor of you. Generally the Health and PE teachers are responsible for this course, but the district needs it completed in the next five days for legal reasons, and unfortunately Finn and Phasma will be out of town at a conference.”

She plops the folder down unceremoniously on top of his desk. “The timeline is tight, and I’m a little desperate. Obviously, we need both a male and female teacher to help with this co-ed course. How so very lucky to find you here, Ms. Niima. I think you would be a fantastic addition to this class. I will arrange coverage for you both. Go ahead and start looking through the course materials so you can get started collaborating!”

The smile Ben’s mother gives the two of them as she waltzes out of his room sends a shiver of dread down his spine. Leia Organa has never been a big believer in luck - she prefers to build her own opportunities. And that is exactly what terrifies Ben.

He glances down at the folder on his desk, and feels a lump suddenly wedge itself in his throat. His cough comes out as a choke, and he hears her gasp from across his desk. She’s read the folder, too.

“Lesson Plans - Sexual Education for Early Adolescents”

Fuck.

Chapter Text

When the year first started, it had taken Rey a few days to figure out that Ben Solo was Leia’s son.

It was Finn who had filled her in a few months ago as they set up their classrooms. The new gym teacher, and hired at the same time as her, he had quickly become her best friend in this new place. 

“I heard it from Poe. You know, the US History Teacher? He told me last night.” Finn’s voice was a whisper, but his grin spread across his entire face enthusiastically. 

Of course Rey knew Poe - he was young, handsome, and could have sexual chemistry with a table lamp. Finn had not elaborated on exactly how or why he found that out the night before, and Rey didn’t ask, but she had had several good ideas. 

Ideas that had proven themselves to be quite accurate. 

Rey giggles to herself, lost for a moment in the memory, until she jolts back to the present situation. 

The six-foot-three, dark-haired mountain of a situation sitting at the table next to her, hammering away furiously on his MacBook in the middle of a staff meeting. 

Rey finds herself transfixed by the movement, wondering idly to herself how he manages to hit individual keys with his enormous fingers. 

Certainly they sell specialized keyboards for men with hands the size of baseball mitts?

She doesn’t realize she is staring until his eyes raise to meet hers, his brows furrowing with what she assumes is irritation. She quickly ducks her head behind her Chromebook, painfully aware her cheeks are burning and she is most certainly the most awkward human being in the world. 

Truth be told, Rey had never had to worry too much about boys.

It wasn’t like she had a choice. By the time she was old enough to care, food and warmth was no longer an issue - her foster families had taken care of those basic needs. However, there were classes, and her part-time job, and then college, and maintaining her scholarship.  

Rey had life to worry about. Developing a relationship with someone was a luxury she couldn’t afford. 

And now, here she is, her fourth paycheck sitting flush in her bank account and a deposit paid on her new apartment with Rose. She has been able to purchase herself the nicest winter coat she has ever owned, and her fridge is full of food. Rich people food, like asparagus and chicken breasts and Pringles. 

And she can’t stop staring at Ben Solo. 

Mr. Solo.

He is older than her, she can tell, and she knows he has been a professor before. This is also his first year at Resistance Middle, but if the rumors she has heard muttered during the before-school teacher workdays are any indication, it isn’t by choice.

He lost his tenure at First Order University when they had to fire him.

I heard he knocked a student unconscious. 

You know he set his office on fire when he got his termination notice, right?

Rey struggles to reconcile this information about him with what she sees in front of her. Sure, he is a large man. Gigantic, quite frankly, but with a nervousness to his demeanor and a kindness in his eyes that just doesn’t quite scream “monster.”

As she watches him huff and roll his eyes at the screen in front of him, clearly ignoring the drone of the school nurse - who needs to know how to correctly administer an epi-pen anyway? - her thoughts shoot back to the morning before.

He had lied to her about the projector, she was sure of it. She knows he has a reputation for being an asshole, but why would he destroy school property, taking such a risk with the last chance he had been given? And why would he just not admit it when she confronted him?

She had watched the way his eyebrows raised when she yelled at him, the flush that had spread across his cheeks. She was sure, absolutely positive , that she had seen the shadow of a grin pass across his face.

She looks down at the folder Ben had handed to her. 

Well, shoved at her, seconds before she practically ran out of the room. 

Which happened to be seconds after she squeaked, “Meep,” followed by “No, I can’t do this.”

Because she can’t. She absolutely cannot teach sex ed. 

Because Rey Niima has never actually had sex.

-------------------------------------------

Sorry, Mom, but I am a 33 year-old-virgin and for that reason, I cannot teach middle-schoolers about sex.

Ben has typed it out seven times before deleting it. He knows he should be listening to the nurse. He has Paul in his class this year, and that kid is allergic to everything . 

But instead, Ben is staring at his computer screen, silently cursing his mother and thinking of a way, any way , to get out of this. To avoid the train wreck he would become in front of Ms. Niima.

Rey. 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees her looking at him. As his gaze meets hers, all he can think about are the last words he heard from her.

“No, I can’t do this.”

He feels himself grimace. She must be terrified of him. He’s heard the rumors spread about him - surely she has as well. 

He hits the send button on his latest rambling plea of an email.

Apparently his mother isn’t focused on the meeting either, because he receives an immediate reply back.

Stop bothering me about this, Benjamin. I have made my decision and I’m not changing my mind. You’ll thank me one day. I LOVE YOU!

He resists the urge to smash his computer - he doesn’t do things like that anymore, remember - and instead practices his breathing techniques. 

He breathes in. Holds it. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Lets it out quietly, pushing the breath between his lips.

Ben steals a glance Rey’s way. She is focused intently on the paper before her, her brows knit and a look of horror on her pretty face.

He thinks about the folder in his book bag. The one he spent three hours looking through last night. Three hours of information that was somehow entirely too vague yet disturbingly detailed at the same time. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand how sex worked. His father had explained it to him when he was old enough, taking him down to his garage. Admittedly, Han had used educationally questionable terms like “crankshaft” and “piston,” but teenage Ben got the idea.

He had understood well enough to know that it wasn’t something he was necessarily interested in. Of course, he had urges - he just took care of them himself. He invested his time and passion in his education and career, never finding a woman who sparked that level of interest or intrigue in his mind. Then, when she still hadn’t come along, and history had lost it’s glimmer, he moved on to his new hobby.

Drinking. 

Unfortunately, Drunk Ben didn’t have much luck with the ladies, either. According to his mother, Drunk Ben was “The biggest fucking asshole I have ever met in my entire life.”

Which is why Ben is now spending his evenings alone, eating pizza on his couch and learning about STD’s from a manual for twelve-year-olds.

His only saving grace in this whole ordeal is the pacing guide at the beginning of the packet. The course could be condensed into 3 days ( yes, please) and started with a full day of gender-separated classes. Rey would talk to the girls about their bodies, and Ben would talk to the boys. 

About their bodies.

Ben would be talking to twelve-year-old boys about their bodies.

With the words “erection” and “masturbation” floating through his mind, he drops his forehead to the table and groans quietly.

The rest of the teachers file out quickly, ready to escape and begin their evenings of freedom. 

Ben doesn’t even notice the slender brunette who hangs back, her eyes filled with worry pausing over him.

Chapter Text

Day One went as smoothly as Rey could have hoped. Luckily, by middle school, most girls had either already gotten their period, or their mothers had at least warned them what was to come.

They were more fortunate than Rey. By that time in her life, she was living with Unkar Plutt. Who, to no one’s surprise, had zero proficiency in women’s personal hygiene.

Rey had the internet, though, and quickly figured out what painkiller worked best for cramps and which pads and tampons left her with no leaks. 

The same pads and tampons she keeps stocked in her classroom, she tells the girls with a wink, just in case they ever find themselves without one. 

The session ends quicker than she imagines it would, and she realizes that her stomach is gnawing itself from the inside out. The break room is silent as she enters, eyes focused as she runs through emails on her phone. She hums quietly to herself, grabbing her lunch from the fridge and popping her leftovers in the microwave. She giggles at the cat meme that Rose had sent her earlier, and deletes the email from Mr. Hux titled “FYI Proper Procedures IMPORTANT READ” without opening it. 

She’s completely engrossed in an email argument between Mr. Dameron and Ms. Holdo, neither of which have realized that they are hitting “reply all” as they use all uppercase letters to discuss budget allotments, as she sinks back onto the staff couch.

She sees a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye, and feels the cushion beside her shift suddenly. 

Her reaction is purely instinctual - jumping to her feet with a shriek, and hurling her phone straight at the area of threat.

Which, as she discovers two seconds later, happens to be Ben Solo’s head.

He yells out “OW FUCK” and grabs the spot behind his left temple. 

At the same time, Rey shrieks, "OH MY GOD I'M SORRY" and her hands move to the exact same place on his head. 

His hair is so soft. It shouldn’t be this soft. 

Those are the first coherent thoughts that ramble through her flustered mind. And she realizes suddenly her fingers are in his hair, so firmly that she can brush the edge of his ear with her thumb.

She expects him to pull back, but he doesn’t. He just watches her for a minute, brown eyes darting first to her hand, and then back, looking straight in to hers, and she swears he leans, he fucking leans , into her hand as his lashes flutter slightly. 

And then the microwave beeps. Rey feels her hand jerk back and rejoin the rest of her body as she turns to grab the food. She stirs her tupperware container slowly, back turned to the couch, willing her heart to stop racing.

Get it together, Niima. 

She hears him exhale deeply behind her, and she holds her breath, waiting for him to speak.

You invaded his space, remember that. You touched him. Touched him without asking. Of course he would be irritated with you.

But he is silent, and when she turns, he is staring at the floor, elbows on his knees. His fingers are rubbing circles at his temple, and she, apparently ever the creative conversationalist, nervously utters, “Headache?”

“Yeah.”

He sounds exhausted, and she prefers this quiet ambiguity to disappointment, so she waits in silence, devouring her lunch, seeing if he offers any more. She watches him run his hands through his hair compulsively and imagines a life where she could do that for him. Not just touch his hair, though that would obviously be a perk.

Just comfort him. And be comforted herself. Rey has spent most of her life so far being terrified of spending the rest of it alone. Being surrounded by people doesn’t mean that you feel like you belong. When she looks in Ben’s eyes, she imagines that he might understand that. 

“Was the first lesson as awful for you as it was for me?” His words shake her from her reverie. There is an earnestness in his voice that both confuses her and breaks her heart a little. 

Rey considers answering his question with a lie, for just a moment. Give him the kindness and reassurance he seems to need. 

But as his eyes meet hers, waiting for a response, she finds that she can’t be anything but honest. Which is why she shakes her head and gently asks “What happened?”

Ben Solo talks more in the next five minutes than she has heard him speak this entire school year. Apparently, middle school boys are not only preoccupied with their junk, but also have an extensive list of questions about it as well. 

“Some of them were telling me their penis size and asking how it compares to mine.”

“One student asked me if it was okay to ‘pop a boner’ around female teachers.”

“Another kid asked me if we were going to cover ‘cake sex’ tomorrow?”

To her credit, Rey doesn’t laugh. On the outside. It occurs to her that Ben is actually opening up to her, and that maybe she shouldn’t take this vulnerability for granted.

So she pushes her giggles down deep inside, and instead asks, “What can I do to help?”

-------------------------------------------

Ben would like to blame the situation he is in on his headache.

He is, generally speaking, not exactly what you would call an “open person.”

Talking about his “feelings” makes him “uncomfortable,” which is “probably” another reason why alcohol became such a “problem” for him. 

And now here he is, sitting in the teacher’s lounge with Rey Niima, unloading his fears and anxieties on the one woman he never wanted to burden with the insanity that is the inside of his brain. 

He pretends it's because she asked. And not because she touched his hair, and looked into his eyes. Not because he is about 75% sure he may have leaned into her and he is 100% sure he has dreamed about that moment before. 

She’s gorgeous, of course, but Ben has spent time with plenty of lovely women. Rey is something else entirely. 

She is sitting cross-legged on the table across from him, stuffing raviolis in her mouth as she listens to him complain. Her hair is pulled back in those ridiculous buns, and they bounce slightly as she leans back to laugh, tomato sauce smeared across the corner of her mouth.

Ben has never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life, and it terrifies him. 

He thinks about what it would be like, to sit here beside her every day at lunch. He imagines that she would laugh at his jokes, maybe like she is now. Maybe she would let him touch her hand. He would look forward to lunch, and pack real food, instead of just eating the same turkey sandwich alone in his classroom alone every day. 

“...so would you rather buy the, um, condoms, or the bananas? You know, for practicing?” 

Her voice is cautious and soft, but it snaps him out of his blissful haze and before he realizes it, he offers, “I can get the condoms.”

And if Ben could take back any words he has ever said, in his entire life, it might be these, because he has never once bought condoms. He doesn’t even know where to buy them. 

But Rey immediately perks up and gushes, “Oh good, I’ve never bought them before so I wouldn’t know what to get.” For a second, Ben feels the relief of solidarity wash over him, until her eyes widen in panic.

“I mean, I’m on birth control.”

She offers it like an excuse, or a reason, but suddenly Ben is left with questions in his mind that he will never ask. For a moment, there is a pause between the two of them as a blush rises to her cheeks. Then she speaks, and Ben is eternally grateful to have escaped the awkward silence, until he hears the words that come out of her mouth next.

“So what size bananas should I buy?”

He thinks for a second, and then offers, “You know, maybe normal-sized ones?” 

She nods agreeably, but then he notices she is cracking her knuckles and looking around the room nervously and then she says, “So, maybe like ten inch bananas? Would that be about the right size?”

Ben is glad he has already finished his sandwich because he nearly chokes to death with just an empty mouth. He plays it off as a coughing fit and dodges out the door to the water fountain, using the metal sides of the structure to hold himself up.

He wills himself not to glance down at his khakis. Ben never imagined he was small. Honestly, he had always considered himself more than adequate. 

He feels a flare of jealousy surge through him as he imagines her with another guy. Someone handsome, calm and socially adept. Someone who apparently was graced with a dick large enough to hit a baseball with. A dick that she considers normal. 

Ben groans and rests his head against the cool tiled wall. 

Time to go find some condoms. 

Chapter Text

Rey can’t stop eyeing the bananas on her desk beside her.

Ten inches. Ten fucking inches.

Of course, Rey has seen penises. Well, a penis. When she accidentally walked in the wrong locker room in high school. It was nothing to write home about.

And obviously, Rey is into penises. She’s never been one for watching porn but she certainly has a collection of fiction on her Kindle that makes her hope that if she tragically dies young, the device is somehow irreparably damaged in her demise, destroying all evidence of her reading habits along with it. 

So what Rey has isn’t so much experience as a very vivid imagination. But nothing she has ever imagined fitting inside her pleasantly has come close to ten inches. 

She was going to say something much more reasonable, like a certainly adequate seven or eight inches, but then she realized who she was talking to. 

Ben Solo is a very large man. And the only thing that Rey wants more than for him to not find out that she is a virgin, is for her to not offend him by underestimating the size of his penis.

So she said ten inches. And then he laughed at her. Of course, he was kind enough to at least play it off as a cough, ducking out of the room so he could most likely head out into the hall and just chuckle openly at her naivete. 

Rey tries to imagine a world where Ben Solo would be large enough to consider ten inches laughable. She is not a tiny woman, but the thought of sliding something nearly a foot long into her makes her clench shut a little. However, she would be a complete liar if she said she wouldn’t be willing to try if it meant she got to climb that tree of a man.

Damnit Rey, get yourself together. You have to talk about sex with this man in front of a room of thirteen-year-olds in five minutes. There will be enough hormones in that room without you adding to the mix.

She grabs the bananas and her binder, and begins making her way down the hall to Rose Tico’s room. Since her computer lab needs to be open for work sessions throughout the day, and Ben’s projector is still mysteriously inoperable, they needed to find another classroom. Rose has a free period. 

Rose also, Rey notices, has popped popcorn and is sitting back at her desk with an excessive grin on her face. Noticing Ben already setting papers out at the front table, Rey stalks back to her friend, hissing, “Don’t you have something better to do, Tico? Maybe like actual work?”

Rose giggles, her bangs bouncing as she whispers, “Hell no. I’ll grade all night at home for the chance to watch this shit show unfold.” Rey rolls her eyes, walking back to the front of the room as Rose uses both buttery hands to give her an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“Ready?” Ben’s deep rumble sounds confident, but as she looks up into his eyes, she sees a quick flicker of concern.  Of course, he’s figured it out. He’s nervous about having to make it through the next two days with someone who has no idea what they are talking about.

She fakes a confident smile, nods, and launches into the introduction for the day. 

_________________________

At this point, Ben is genuinely concerned that he might sweat through his button-up. 

The last time he was this nervous was his sentencing. The judge had given him probation, and Ben had been relieved. He had gotten off easy, he thought then. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Being stuck in prison might be better than having to sit beside Rey Niima while she utters the words “sexual intercourse and you” to thirty teenagers. 

She’s so confident, so beautiful. 

He tries not to stare at her, sitting on the edge of the table in front of him. Tries not to think about going to his knees on the floor in front of her. Burying his face between her beautiful legs and begging her to teach him everything she knows. Promising her that he’ll make it good for her, there is no way it can’t be, as badly as he wants it.

Ben thinks back to those conversations with his father, the way he had rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose while Han tried his best to explain the power a woman could hold over a man. And thirty-three-year-old Ben laughs, he fucking scoffs at himself, because here, for the first time in his life, he understands.

And suddenly, Ben is snapped back to reality and is confused to find that he is not the only one in the classroom laughing.

Rey’s hands are on her hips and she’s glaring at someone, some student at their desk. And then she spits out, “What did you say?”

And Paul, because of course it is that asshole, smirks and replies, “I said, ‘Mechanics of what ?’”

Ben can’t see Rey’s face to confirm, but he is absolutely positive that he hears her eyes roll completely back in her head. He watches her buns bounce as she stomps a few steps forward towards the idiot in question. Then, in a tone that is equal parts mock and genuine disbelief, she says, “Oh, you didn’t hear me the first time? SEX, Paul. This is SEX ED.” And then, to the rest of the class, “Any more brilliant questions to offer up?”

He sees her smirk this time, and before she turns her back to return to the manual at the desk, she shoots Paul a look that could whither a houseplant. 

And Paul, that poor son-of-a-bitch, actually looks at Ben, with a stupid gape on his face that screams " help me, please ," but Ben, Ben just shrugs and smiles.

Because Rey is already launching into exactly how sex works, and he has to pretend like he knows exactly what she is talking about. Which is hard because, well, Rey is really on point with this.

She uses the words “erection” and “arousal” without batting an eye. And yes, he knew there was going to be a model involved, but he was not prepared to watch this woman slide a plastic penis into an equally plastic vagina with such finesse. 

Do nothing Solo. Nothing. Don’t look, don’t smile, and do not get a boner. 

At this point, no one is laughing. In fact, there isn’t a sound in the entire classroom, just thirty teenagers hanging onto every word that comes out of her mouth like she holds the secret to life.

Because maybe she does .

And then Paul’s hand goes up, right as she is explaining how the vaginal canal expands, and Ben is wincing at both that stretch and this boy’s stupidity and then-

“What happens if it goes in her butt?”

And bless him, Paul must really be desperate for knowledge here, and somehow not know that the internet exists, because the look on his face is one of pure, raw curiosity. 

Ben realizes suddenly that Rey has now turned to him, a look of terror painted over her features and he remembers that, maybe, he should be helping here, too.

And honestly, anal sex is NOWHERE on Ben’s radar. It wasn’t that he had a problem with it - he just imagined that it would be a good idea to get acquainted with the main entrance before trying to sneak in the backdoor.

But the last thing Ben wants to do is give a group of adolescents any weird hang-ups about the scope of normal sexual activity. So, he takes a deep breath, shrugs his shoulders, and answers the question.

“If it fits and everyone is happy, I’d say you’re good to go.”

The class erupts in laughter.

Rey’s jaw drops.

Rose spits out her drink at the back. 

Chapter Text

Rey realizes that yesterday was a disaster, and she knows that it’s all her fault. She let that kid get to her, rile her up and set her off. She’s usually better than that.

And she was handling it fine, she would have been okay, but then she heard Ben Solo’s deep rumbling chuckle from behind her. 

And suddenly, Rey was in middle school herself again, gangly and too skinny. And the laughter was there, too, and she felt the familiar wave of embarrassment wash over her. Except Rey isn’t twelve anymore and she certainly doesn’t cry in the locker room alone now.

So she put on her big girl panties, and faked her way brilliantly through the next two hours. It wasn’t perfect, but then again, neither is sex, and these kids can’t tell the difference anyways.

Rey had much higher hopes for today. She assumed that a conversation about preventing sexually transmitted diseases would be foolproof.

Explain to them how STDs work, show them some slides of dicks that look like cauliflower. Scare the living shit out of them. Simple.

Rey assumed very incorrectly. 

First of all, Rey conveniently forgot that she would also be viewing these slides, in all of their lumpy, rashy, discharge-y glory. She could have sworn she heard Ben mutter from beside her, “How is that even physically possible?” at several points throughout the video.

Also, Rey realizes once the last picture flashes across the screen and the lights are flicked back on, that all that remains between them and their weekend is 20 minutes, 15 bananas, and 30 condoms.

Which is why Rey Niima, adult woman, is now engaged in a silent stand-off with her gorgeous coworker, banana in hand. 

It makes sense, she rationalizes, that as the owner of an actual penis, he should be the one to lead them. Them being the class of teenagers, bananas in hand, waiting to be shown the wonders of condom application. They have already partnered off, and decided who would go first.

Ben and Rey have also partnered off, with each other of course, but have yet to reach a consensus on the “first one” front.

“Oh, you can if you want to.”

“No, thanks, but I feel like you might be more of an expert in this area.”

“Oh, but this is the easy part!”

“I would hate to just take this over!”

“I insist.”

Their voices are whispers, backs to the students, faces just inches from one another. Ben is bent down nearly to a comical level to talk to her, and Rey can smell the rosemary in his shampoo.

“We’ll do it together,” he finally suggests through gritted teeth. Rey nods enthusiastically. This sounds like a fantastic idea.

It is a terrible idea. 

It takes Rey about thirty seconds to realize that Ben intends on holding the banana, all ten yellow inches of it, which means that she will be applying the condom. 

To his banana.

It takes Ben about thirty more seconds to realize it himself, but by this time, every eye in the classroom is on them, and there is no turning back. 

The wrapper crinkles in Rey’s fingers as she tears it open. 

It’s like a slimy balloon.

She feels her nose start to wrinkle up, and instead focuses on unrolling the rubber in her hands.

“What are you doing?!?” His voice is a sharp hiss in her ear. 

She turns to him, whispering, “Getting this thing ready to go so we can get this over with.”

His eyebrows are knit together so tight they are practically touching. “You don’t start rolling it down until it is on the dick. I mean, banana.”

Rey looks from his suspicious eyes to the sixty curious ones staring back out at her. She feels a blush rise to her cheeks. She focuses on keeping her voice at a whisper. A defensive, irritated whisper. “Well, I’m sorry, I’ve never used one of these before.” 

She watches in confusion as his look of disbelief morphs into something ugly and cold. “How responsible of you,” he mutters, not even attempting to disguise the spite in his whisper. Rey feels tears prickle at the back of her eyes and blinks hard to push them back. 

How dare you. How fucking dare you judge me. 

She imagines screaming this at him, but remembers the classroom is full of young impressionable minds, and that she kind of likes her job. 

So instead, Rey throws the condom down on the ground and stomps out of the room. 

---------------------------------

Ben can’t find her anywhere. The gym is nearly empty, except for Mr. Dameron, who, for some unknown reason is waiting in the coach’s office for Finn to return from his conference. When he tries to approach Rose in the hallway, she throws her pen at him. The computer lab is deserted, and the library is suspiciously calm as well. He even ventures behind the stack of old discarded textbooks in the corner of the workroom. No luck.

She’s gone. Except, she isn’t. Because her car, a rickety old piece of shit Ben assumes is held together with chewed gum and paper clips, is still in the teacher’s lot. 

He stomps back into the building, images of her sobbing in some corner running through his head, and he knows he can’t leave until he apologizes. For everything. 

Finally, in desperation, he stops by his mother’s office. He doesn’t need to knock—her door is open, the sound of classical music filling the hallway. She offers him tea before he can even speak, and when he declines, she just sits there behind her desk, smirking at him.

“You did this on purpose. You had us co-teach this class in some desperate attempt to push us together, didn’t you?!?”

His mother has the nerve to sigh. Then she continues, in an almost patronizing tone. “Now Ben. First things first, I am a lot of things, but desperate is not one of them. Also, even if I was, do you really think I would do something that manipulative?”

Ben considers reminding her about every argument he ever witnessed between her and his father, as well as most parent teacher conferences and some family reunions. But then he remembers her face in the courtroom, focused and strong. The way she hugged him at dinner a month later, sharing the news of the job opportunity with him and whispering “Your dad would be proud, you know.” 

So instead he just rolls his eyes and levels with her. “I fucked things up and hurt her feelings—I’m sure that comes as no shock to you. But I need to find her. It's late, but I know she's still here.”

His mother stirs her tea once and smiles. “There is an out-of-the-way planning room on the second floor at the end of the hallway. Usually the door is locked, but it’s easy to get into if you know how. She might be there.” 

Then the phone rings. Leia answers, then silently winks at her son and shoos him away with the flip of her fingers. Dismissed, he bolts out the door. 

He’s winded by the time he gets to the end of that hallway, skidding to a stop in front of the door. It’s locked, like his mother said it would be, but he can see light filtering out from the crack under the door. He knocks, at first hesitantly, and then after a moment with no answer, more decisively. 

“Rey, are you in there? Please don’t ignore me. I need to talk to you. I know you’re upset, and that I was an asshole, but please give me a chance to explain. Please don’t cry over this, it just —”

Suddenly the door jerks open, and a pair of dry, narrowed eyes are glaring back at him.

“Who the fuck said I was crying? How pathetic do you think I am, Solo?”

He glances down to see her fists balled up and feels an embarrassed flush rise across his cheeks.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.” 

The look she gives him is part surprise and part disbelief and it makes him want to pick her up and kiss her hair, but instead he simply asks, “Can I come in and talk to you?”

She nods, and the door shuts behind him as he walks in. He is suddenly surrounded by warm lamplight. He looks down, a familiar pattern at his feet, and he isn’t quite sure where to place it, this oddly familiar rug, until he sees the couch.

This is my mother’s old stuff, from my childhood home, he realizes with a jolt. 

Rey must sense the panic in his eyes because she offers, “Leia told me about this place. Said that she sometimes needed it to get away from it all here. She gave me a key—she mentioned she imagined I would appreciate it, too. Apparently no one knows about it but me, your mother, the custodians, and well, I suppose you now.”

She pauses like she is unsure of what to say next, holding her hands awkwardly in front of her and looking at him expectantly. 

He decides to start at the beginning.

“First, Rey, I am so sorry about the projector…”

-------------------------------------

This is the first time Rey has needed to use the secret room since Leia revealed its existence to her about a month ago.

She certainly hadn’t expected him to show up—she just wanted somewhere to think and work through everything before she went home to her apartment and had to explain the latest in her sad life to Rose. 

And now he is here, looking at her with sad brown puppy-dog eyes, apologizing for lying to her about the stupid projector.  

She can’t help but interrupt him. 

“Ben, I don’t give a shit about the projector. I put in a ticket and they come to fix it. If you want to destroy school property for the hell of it, that’s on you.”

“I didn’t do it for the hell of it. I did it because I wanted to see you.”

The last line is a mumble, nearly inaudible, and Rey feels a nervous flutter rise to her chest. She leans in closer to hear the rest.

“Listen. I really, really suck at talking to women. To people in general, honestly. And you are so good, so sweet and pretty and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. But I knew you would help me, even if you were scared of me.”

He trails off, studying the pattern on the rug like it holds some secret password that could transport him out of this conversation.

She pauses, stunned, trying to choose her words carefully, but she finds herself unable to process all of this new information gracefully. “I’ve never been scared of you, you giant idiot! I’m fucking furious with you. I’ve been so nervous about this, teaching all of this with you, and then you laughed at me yesterday! Right in front of a whole class of students!”

Ben stills, a look of shock and confusion passing over his face. Then realization dawns. He steps forward, bending down and grabbing her hands desperately. 

“No! No, no, Rey, I wasn’t laughing at you. I was being an idiot, stuck in my head, laughing at some stupid idea I had. I would never make fun of you.”

She pushes his hands away, and turning her head so he doesn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes, spits out, “Well you certainly didn’t have a problem making me feel like a whore today.”

And at that, all six-foot-three inches of Ben Solo drops to his knees on the ground in front her. He looks up, shame flooding his eyes, and he whispers, “I’m so sorry, so very sorry Rey. There’s no excuse for what I said. I let my jealousy get the best of me. I’m an idiot.”

“Jealous? Why in the hell would you be jealous of me?”

“No,” he shakes his head, pursing his lips, “Of him. Whoever you were with, before, that made you so happy. The guy that made you think that a ten-inch dick was what every guy could bring to the table.”

She feels her jaw drop, and now it’s Rey’s turn to shake her head. Furiously. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I’ve never even had a boyfriend before!”

He stutters. “But...but...you’re you . And you have been so confident through this, so perfect. You know everything! And you said, with the bananas…”

Rey cackles, she fucking cackles. And then, “I only said that because I didn’t want to offend you. You’re so. So big. And I’ve never really…”

Suddenly, the situation isn't so funny anymore, and Rey realizes what needs to be said. She looks to the floor. “I’ve never even really seen a penis before. You know, up close. I’ve never really been with a guy. At all.”

She expects him to be looking at her with disgust or pity, but all she sees is compassion across his face, and some look in his eyes she can’t quite put her finger on.  

“Rey, why wouldn’t you just tell me from the beginning?”

“I didn’t want you to be weirded out by me, to feel like you were stuck teaching this with some stupid little girl who didn’t know what she was talking about.”

His jaw tightens and she realizes he is still on his knees. He takes her hands again, and this time, she doesn’t push him away. 

“Rey," he pauses and shrugs before continuing, "I don’t know what I am talking about either. This has been a disaster for me. I’ve never really cared much about women, let alone slept with one. And then you came into my life and you have taken over every piece of me, and suddenly, I want something I could have never imagined, and will never deserve.”

His expression is soft. There are tears in his eyes. Rey moves her fingers from his hands to his hair and bends down. 

------------------------------------------

He thought she was going to kiss him. But her lips ghost his cheek and settle by his ear. Long brown hair tickles his face - her perfume smells like oranges and sandalwood. 

He feels her breath as she whispers the words. “I see the good in you, Ben Solo.”

And Ben told himself he would not cry, but he knows he is a damn dirty liar because he feels the first tear trail down his cheek. And Rey, she leans in like the angel she is, and she kisses it into his skin, working down the edge of his jawline until she reaches his lips.

Rey tastes like oranges, too. Her lips are soft, and she sighs against him a little as he deepens the kiss, and he imagines he hears echoes of relief in the sound.

He understands completely. He imagined kissing Rey would feel like a fire burning through him, consuming every bit of him. A destructive force, like the drinking and the fighting.

But this? No. This feels calm and cool, like being caught in a gentle rainstorm and Ben isn’t aflame anymore.

Then she whispers, “Are you okay?” and he is more than okay. So he nods, and asks “Can I please?” and then she is in his arms, moving to the couch.

His thoughts flicker briefly to thirteen-year-old Ben, sitting on this same couch in his parent’s living room, an awkward disaster of a boy. He’d like to go back and give him a hug, tell him to be patient, explain that twenty more years isn’t too long to wait for this.

‘This’ being Rey Niima in your lap, her fingers running through your hair, her sweet tongue sliding between your lips. 

She’s turned so she’s straddling him, legs tucked up on either side of his hips and her dress riding up her smooth thighs. Ben is imagining pushing it up the rest of the way, dying just to get a glimpse of her panties when he feels her take his hand from her waist. She places it firmly on top of one of her perfect breasts, and whispers “Please, Ben” like he is doing her some kind of favor.

She is somehow soft and firm at the same time, and when Ben pulls the straps of her dress down, and then the lacy bra underneath, he feels a moan involuntarily escape his throat. He’s seen what a woman’s body looks like  - in videos, in magazines. He knew what to expect. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Rey, nearly naked and warm under his fingers. 

And the ugly voice of doubt is at the back of his mind again, and he whispers, “I don’t know how to do this. Please tell me what feels good.” He’s too desperate to be embarrassed at this point, and he doesn’t believe her when she smiles and says “Oh, you’ll know, don’t worry.”

But she’s right. The whimpers and whines she makes as he touches her - rolling over her hard nipples, tucking under her drenched panties, parting her tight wetness with his fingers—make him feel like he is actually doing something right. 

He can’t imagine that his fumbling hands could make her feel this good until she unzips him, snaking her hand under his jeans and wrapping her slim fingers around his cock. And suddenly he understands. Because Rey most definitely is not touching him the way he usually does, or even the way he would think to tell her to, and still, it makes his head spin. 

He’s already dangerously close to coming on her pretty little hand, when he notices her staring at his length as she pumps him. And Ben feels himself stammering, “I’m sorry if you were expecting more.”

Her eyes flash to his and she nearly whispers, “No, you’re perfect. You look beautiful.” And then before Ben’s ego can soak in this revelation, she breathes out, “I want you inside me. Please?”

You’re perfect. And she is, not him, so he says, “I don’t want to move too fast for you. If you want to wait, we can.” 

In this moment, he can practically hear his dick roaring, “TRAITOR!” at him. He tries to remind it, and himself, that no matter how good this feels, it is a fast and sudden thing, and she probably deserves better.

But Rey brings her hand to the side of his jaw, and presses a heavy kiss to his lips. “I’ve waited long enough.” She’s smiling at him , he has to remind himself. “This feels right, doesn’t it?”

And Ben thinks back to every boring date and awkward kiss he’s ever had and answers. “This is perfect.”

His fingers still smell like her, and it’s easy to imagine that taste on his tongue, but he honestly doesn’t think he could make it through that experience without losing himself too early. So instead he touches her again, focusing on how tight she feels as he pushes up into her, how warm and good, until he feels a pang of worry shoot through him.

“It might hurt,” he warns her, gently. 

Rey rolls her eyes at him, but then shoots him a grateful grin. “I read the same book too, Ben. I’m not as delicate as I look.”

And she isn’t. He offers to go get a condom—there are plenty of unused ones sitting in a pile of bananas downstairs—but Rey reminds him that she is already on the pill, and has been for years. So he watches as she straddles him, spreading wide and sinking down on his cock at a speed that is both tortuously slow and mind-numbingly fast. 

No amount of sexual education manuals and videos could have prepared Ben for this. He watches her take him in, inch by inch, and Ben finds a reserve of patience he never knew existed. His movements are gentle, controlled, because he can tell by her wince that he is stretching her, filling her in places she’s never felt before. And fuck if that doesn’t turn him on more than anything else so far.

And he is in control, until that moment when her quiet discomfort bleeds into moans and when she begs “Please, Ben, it feels good, harder...” he is more than happy to oblige her, snapping his hips up to meet the grind of her cunt on him. 

Baseball. Taxes. Testing training with Mr. Hux. These are the things that Ben desperately tries to fill his mind with, anything to keep from coming too soon inside her perfect warmth. And it works, for a minute, until she begs him to rub her again, and he feels her clench around him.

And she whines exquisitely, hands on his chest as she comes, and he follows a moment later, vision whiting out around her until she is the only thing he can see hovering above him as he lets go.  

He pulls her close as they both come down, so close he can feel her muscles relax one by one. She peeks up through her lashes at him and smiles. He feels his heart do a funny flip that he doesn’t recognize, and the words tumble out before he can stop them.

“Thank you.”

He watches as fear blossoms in her eyes. He’s made a mistake, he knows that much, but then she whispers “Are you leaving me now?” And her voice is so small and sad that it shatters him.

“No, no, no, no.” He has to pause and collect himself so he doesn’t squeeze her to him hard enough to hurt her. “Rey, I will stay as long as you want me to. I mean, I don’t want to leave. But I will if you want me to..”

It’s terrifying, he realizes, putting himself out like this, opening up. Doubt begins to claw at the back of his mind, but then she is grinning at him again, sweet and earnest and says, “I really can’t imagine ever wanting you to go, Ben.”

Her head fits perfectly under his chin, and they lay there in the lamplight quietly until the growling from her stomach becomes difficult to ignore. 

There is a bathroom that opens to the room, but the door is locked, so Ben cleans them both carefully with tissues he finds on a table, helping Rey slip back into her dress. They are debating where they could stop to grab something to eat on the way back to his place, when he feels her small hand wrap around his own. A laugh escapes from him, more honest and earnest than it has in years. 

“Rey, how did we end up learning more about sex from this course than the kids?”

Rey kisses his cheek and giggles. “You know, we really need to let your mom know that they will need a refresher course on the whole topic once Finn and Phasma get settled back in. I’m almost positive we were the only ones who got any benefit from this whole experience.”

She winks at Ben, and tightens her grip on his hand as he opens the door for her. He follows behind, pulling her close as they make their way down the dark and empty hallway.

Neither one of them hears the bathroom door inside unlatch, followed by the push of the same planning room door out into the hallway. Mitaka, the new night janitor, and the youngest member of the adult staff, bolts out into the hallway with a blush on his cheeks and an embarrassed grin on his face. Tonight has been a very educational night, indeed.