That's not a run in your stocking, it's a hand on your leg.
A month ago, if someone had asked Rey what she thought of the newest professor in the engineering department (tenure-track, of course, and offered to him on the spot - he didn't have to work for it, fucking legacy bastard), she would have said, in no uncertain terms: fuck that guy.
It's not like she had no reason to hate him.
"First of all," she explained to Finn at the beginning of the semester, her words only slightly slurred from the three vodka sodas she'd drank like juice, "his name isn't even Kylo Ren! It's not even his name! His name is Ben Solo, as in: son of Han Solo. As in Leia Organa's husband. As in Leia Organa, daughter of Anakin Skywalker, sister of Luke Skywalker. As in the fucking holy goddamn trinity of applied mathematics and chemical engineering in the entire goddamn country! He is a legacy hire if there ever was one, and I guarantee right now there is no way he is worth the fucking monday - money."
Finn had stared at her for a moment, trying to hide his amusement. "Is there a second point?"
"Shut up, she's getting there," Rose said, hitting her boyfriend lightly on the arm, and Poe nearly choked on his beer when Rey threw her arm across the table to fist bump Rose.
"Second of all," Rey announced, "when he was moving into his office, which, by the way, is right next to mine, which, by the way, is outrageous, considering the kind of music that emo punk probably listens to -"
"Yeah, okay, let's not pretend you don't listen to Radiohead, I still follow you on Last.FM -" Poe interjected, and Rey waved a hand, quieting him.
"Anyway, he was moving in next door, so I, like a good person, decide to go and introduce myself and say hello what's happening how's the goings on, and he takes one fucking look at me, smirks, and says, 'sorry, sweetheart, I don't hold office hours,' and fucking shut the door in my actual face!"
"As opposed to your not actual face."
"No, I get what she means, Poe," Rose said, nodding. "What a dick."
"Thank you, Rose!" Rey nearly yelled. "Do I look like a student to you? I have been working my ass off doing research and teaching to move up in the department, and this guy just waltzes in with barely an interview and cuts the line like that! Fuck that guy!"
It didn't get any better after that. Rey would find herself in the linguistics building, where Rose, Finn, and Poe share a floor, with a new story about Kylo Ren at least twice a week, about his arrogance and condescension and generally dickishness, each story ending with one or all of them agreeing, man, fuck that guy. Fuck that guy!
And yet, here she is, the last day before winter break, actually trying to fuck that guy.
It really isn't her fault. Rey blames it on the free margaritas the engineering department had been far too generous about pouring at the Christmas Party.
She's only had one and a half, but still. Alcohol was involved. Even better, free alcohol was involved. It's not like Rey and Kylo hadn't had issues with free alcohol before.
At the party before the school's fall break, Ren had gotten a bit overly tipsy and had cornered Rey in the stairwell to "pick her brain" about which students of hers he could poach for his lab.
"No way, Ren," she had said, glaring daggers at him, her gesture made less intimidating by the autumn leaf broach on her cardigan. "There's no way in hell you're stealing my students for your project. You're not even in mech E! Can't you raid Phasma's first year classes? I hear anyone's that's left after her orgo final and isn't in tears is destined for greatness."
He scoffed, leaning down a bit closer to her. Rey blinked. If he didn't have three ciders in him, he never would have gotten so close to her. Despite Rey's initial efforts to be civil, Ren always insisted on keeping a wide berth between himself and anyone else in conversations. The one time she had brushed against him in the hall, he had almost flinched, like he wasn't used to being touched. "You know I need students from different disciplines to help with my research. I may only teach chem, but I need students who have other skills. Even if it's just mechanical engineering." The last two words he said with a sneer. "Besides, you know I can take whatever I want - students and resources. I just thought it'd be polite to ask."
Rey sputtered. She was going to lose her mind. She was going to punch him in his smug, handsome face and lose her job and get sued and never pay off her student loans. She was going to punch his handsome face, his large, unwieldy nose, his stupid, perfect black hair, his dark, piercing eyes - Kylo Ren might tower over her and look like he could bench press her, too, but she was not going to back down.
Instead, Rey took a deep breath, fixing herself with a blank stare. "Professor Ren," she said as calmly as she could, "I suggest you step away from me before I decide to try out my shiny new rings against your fucking nose."
For a moment, he looked absolutely stunned. And also a bit frightened. And also a bit intrigued. She ignored all of these emotions that flitted across his eyes, and, before he could respond, turned on her heel, and walked back to the party.
So yeah. It is definitely the alcohol.
Rey has no idea what changed so much in two months that now she finds herself in Kylo Ren's office, plastic cups abandoned on his filing cabinet, blinders out to the hallway shuttered, door locked. Nothing has happened yet, Rey tells herself as she sits back on his desk, scattering some pens to make room for herself. Nothing has happened yet, but the implication of a locked door when a party is going on not ten feet away is pretty clear.
She is wearing a dress that goes above her knees, a rarity for her, and Kylo can't seem to take his eyes off her bare legs. He's sitting in his desk chair, leaning forward, and his hands twitch in his lap like he's trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching her ankle. His pupils are wide and black, she can tell even in the dim light.
Rey wonders where it started, their weird, almost friendship. Maybe it was when he defended funding her new research project to the department head, the decrepit old Snoke who had no sense to retire or die, in either order. Maybe it was when she thanked him and he'd stared at her, said, "You deserve it. You're a credit to this university, and if he can't see that, he's as blind as he looks." Maybe it was when she joked about how Snoke shouldn't be allowed on the road with his cataracts, and Ren cracked an honest-to-god smile.
Maybe it was when she heard The Cure playing through his earphones on the elevator, his fingers tapping on his briefcase, and she sang Boys Don't Cry until he blushed.
Maybe it was when she found him in the stairwell, breathing hard and eyes wild after a phone conversation with his estranged mother, and Rey had sat with him and touched his hand (like she wanted to tell him - like she wanted to say "you're not alone") and before she could pull back from him he gripped her fingers in his, lacing them together, not saying a word.
Maybe it was when she passed his office and he smiled at her and invited her in for lunch. Maybe it was when she said yes and sat down. Maybe it was when they spent the whole hourlong break talking and then accidentally did the same thing almost every day for two weeks. Maybe it was when she stopped calling him "Professor" or "Ren" and started calling him Kylo.
Maybe it was ten minutes ago, when Kylo invited her into his office to take a look at his dissertation and had locked the door behind them and hadn't even really bothered to go through his cabinets to find the hard copy.
Rey decides that whatever it is, she can always blame it on the margaritas. She uncrosses her legs in front of him, lifting her foot a little closer to him. Kylo's eyes darken even more, and his hand reaches out and touches her ankle.
Kylo glances up, eyes trained on her expression as he slides his hand up further. "This alright?" he says softly, and Rey feels a shiver go through her at how deep his voice is. He must see it or feel it or something, because there's a smirk on his face when his hand reaches the inside of her knee.
"Yeah," she says, hating how breathless she sounds, "yeah, that's fine."
Kylo stands up suddenly, and he is right there - his unwieldy nose and perfect hair and dark eyes that are now looking at her with something in them that is feral and wild and hungry. Rey resists the urge to shiver again. His hand, which feels just fucking giant against her leg, is stroking a little bit between her knees, coaxing them apart. Rey watches his progress, her breathing unsteady.
"Rey," Kylo murmurs, "look at me."
She raises her eyes from his hand to his face and almost gasps. Kylo looks like he wants to fuck her or destroy her, like he'd like to eat her alive. She remembers brushing past him in the hall, how he'd stiffened at the contact. At the time she'd been offended, thinking he was being melodramatic about her having cooties, like a child. Now she wonders if it was something else.
Rey barely gets out one word - "Kylo" - before he has closed the gap between them and caught her mouth in a searing kiss. Rey whimpers, in surprise and in something she doesn't want to call lust, and Kylo practically growls at the sound. He slips one hand into the tangle of her hair and the other to the small of her back, pulling her forward to the edge of the desk and settling himself between her legs. He grinds against the center of her, and at his moan she can tell she must be burning up. She feels like she's dripping with sweat and desire and pure want.
Two months ago, she would've screamed at the idea of kissing him, and now here she is, making out with the man she once referred to as her "arch nemesis." Two months ago, she'd have said, "fuck that guy," and now, here she is, about to fuck that guy.
She feels like a teenager, sneaking into a boy's room after bedtime. She feels like one of her students, about to have a one-night stand.
As if he can read her thoughts, Kylo pulls away suddenly, his breathing harsh and hot against her lips. Her arms are trapped against the expanse of his chest. God, she wants to climb him like a damn tree.
"Rey," he says softly, and it's like he can't stop saying her name now that he's started, "Rey, before anything happens -"
"I'd say this is something, at least -"
"Before anything else happens," he continues, looking a little irritated at her interruption. There's still that animosity, she thinks, but it's tamed, it's rooted in something she doesn't want to call affection (lust, affection: she's really trying hard not to label any feelings here tonight). "I want you to know this isn't - for me, it's real. This is a real thing."
"Yeah," she says hurriedly, hooking her heel around the back of his leg, her hand grasping at the nape of his neck (his hair really is amazing, but she will never tell him that), "yeah, I know."
Kylo leans back a little bit more from her. "Do you?"
"Kylo, are you trying to get out of fucking me right now? Because I can always see if Hux is still around if you're not up for it -" She feigns jumping off the desk, and with a growl, Kylo stops her progress, spreading her legs open even wider with a push of his hand. Rey feels a gush of wetness slicking the inside of her thighs at the expression on his face, and it'd be embarrassing if it wasn't so goddamn hot.
His fingers find her a moment later, peeling her panties to the side. Rey lets out a strangled noise between a laugh and a moan at how huge his hand is against her. A similar sound escapes him when he presses his middle finger into of her, feeling how easy it is to slide in. His thumb twitches against her clit, and Rey has to bite her palm to prevent a louder moan from leaving her.
"Fuck, fuck, Rey," he groans, tugging at her hair to expose her throat to his teeth. She can feel his mouth against her neck, feel the vibrations when he mutters, almost to himself, "You should wear your hair down more." There's a brutal twist to his hand that has Rey nearly yelping, and he settles into a steady rhythm as he fingers her.
It's kind of funny how six weeks ago she'd joked to Rose that he was probably a virgin. He definitely knows how to do at least one thing.
Rey reaches her hand down as he touches her, palming the front of his slacks, and Kylo trembles at the contact, his hand stuttering for a moment before he picks up speed again.
"Shit," Rey whispers, her limbs starting to clench up, "fuck, Kylo, I'm gonna - fuck -"
"Say it," he says against her throat, "say my name again, Rey, fuck -"
"Kylo, Kylo, I'm gonna -" She shudders, her mouth opening as she comes, and it's almost comical, almost mortifying the noises that she makes, the way she's dripping all over his hand. She has no idea how they're going to be able to even look at each other next semester, and this is without him actually sticking his cock inside her.
As she comes down, she can hear his belt buckle clicking apart, and she watches hazily as he holds himself, pumping his hand up and down his length. "Fuck," she mutters, "tell me you have a condom for that."
He's smirking as he throws his wallet behind him, not caring where it lands. "Impressed? Intimidated?" He rolls the condom on, and Rey rolls her eyes, pretending not to care that yeah, he is actually a lot bigger than she expected, and yeah, she is already wet for him and yeah, she wants to combust from waiting for him to push inside of her.
"Don't be so full of yourself, Ren," she manages to choke out.
"Yeah, you're right, soon you'll be full of me."
"Oh my god, that was so bad - that was the worst thing you've ever said to me. I'm counting all the times you called me sweetheart."
"Sweetheart," he groans, lining his cock up against her cunt and pressing himself inside, "you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this."
"Shut up," she replies, but it's breathless so fuck it. "Shut your stupid handsome face and fuck me, Kylo."
He pulls out almost entirely, making eye contact with her as he slams back in. Rey jolts, a spark of pleasure going through her. "Handsome?"
She almost wishes he'd bent her over the desk. She hates the look in his eyes, at once arrogant and vulnerable, at once teasing her and trying desperately to impress her. It's too open, those eyes. She'd rather it just be a quick fuck, but those eyes of his.
"Shut up," she moans again, laying down on the top of the desk as he thrusts, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself in place against the onslaught of his body. This way, she's staring at the ceiling, she can't see his eyes as he pushes into her again and again, she can pretend she can't hear him as he babbles out nonsense words - her name, how tight she is, how much he wants to - "Shut up, fuck me, shut up, fuck me."
"Fuck, Rey, Rey," he's moaning after a few long minutes, and then he's leaning over her, pinning her hands above her head with one hand while the other moves from her thigh to her clit, stroking her in tight circles. "I want you to come again, I want to make you come."
Her moan is strangled in her throat as he gazes at her. For a second, he must see something in her face, because his voice drops to a whisper against her ear, "Don't worry, I feel it too." His hand is rough with her, but his voice is quiet, even gentle. She loves the contrast and hates it at once.
She moans when she comes for a second time, and she's one hundred percent positive the party outside can hear it, but she doesn't give a fuck anymore. She has no fucks left to give.
Kylo follows her over the edge a minute after, groaning softly as he thrusts into her a few more times. For a moment, he stays seated inside of her, his mouth open against her neck. He almost whimpers when he pulls out of her and peels off the condom.
Rey lets her legs fall as Kylo folds himself back onto his chair, his fly still open but his cock back in his boxers at least. She adjusts her panties so that she's covered again, and she feels so sore, open and taken and fucked-out. She thinks if she tried to stand right now her legs wouldn't hold her weight. She has no idea where one of her heels went. She only has one on. Rey stands up, hopping off the desk, to search for her missing shoe around his chair.
"Rey," Kylo says, quiet at first, but then more insistent, "Rey."
"Got it!" Rey chirps brightly, slipping her shoe back on. She doesn't want to look at him, she doesn't want to hear him say, I feel it too, I feel it too. She remembers every guy who has ever been inside of her, Ren just the latest in a string, Ren soon to be the one looking at her and telling her he just doesn't feel it anymore, he needs to be closer to family, he needs space, he needs time, it's not like they'll never talk again - She remembers waiting for her parents at a McDonald's in the middle of London, and that's a stupid thing to think of, what a stupid thing to think of.
"Rey, do you want to -"
"Hey," she cuts him off, her pitch high and strange. She knows it is better to be the one leaving first. She hopes she can slip out of the party undetected. "It's no big deal. It's the risk we take at office Christmas parties, huh? All the free drinks..."
"Ren," she says, this time meeting his eyes. "It's fine, really. You know, it was good to get it out of the way."
His eyes are wide and shining. "Rey, how could you say that?"
"We're still friends, right? I don't -" she swallows harshly, willing herself to stay steady. "I don't want to lose you, okay?"
She can see the moment his eyes shutter, closing off to her. Something in her stomach drops like an anvil. Ren nods, tucking in his shirt, pressing his mouth into a straight line. "Yeah," he says, "yeah, okay. I have - I should clean up a bit, it's late. Actually I still have a few grades to enter before midnight, so if you don't mind."
"Of course," Rey stutters out, picking up her purse from the ground, "yeah, okay, it's late I should probably -"
"I'll see you after break," he supplies, opening the door for her. He is standing a full two feet away from her. Rey can see Hux and Phasma watching in confusion across the room - they must've thought they were fucking, they must be confused why Ren is being so cold. Rey wants a little bit to cry, which is so stupid, which is so stupid. "Merry Christmas, Professor Smith."
Her eyes flutter, and Rey forces a smile as she holds out a hand for him to shake. "Merry Christmas, Ren."
She makes it all of three steps before she hears the first crash come from his office. It's loud and metallic, and everyone at the party falls silent. "There goes the filing cabinet," Rey jokes loudly, "I thought he'd take constructive criticism better." A wave of laughter goes around the office, everyone going back to their conversations, and Rey uses the opportunity to dart for the stairwell.
She waits until she's completely alone before she allows herself to cry, and only a little bit. After a minute, she straightens up, finds her car keys, and leaves the building as fast as her legs can carry her. She does not think of Kylo at all on the drive home. She does not think of how he felt on top of her and inside of her. She does not think of his voice or his hair or his ridiculous nose or his dark eyes or the expression on his face when he said her name over and over again.
She doesn't think of it at all.