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It's Not A Date

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A slam.

 

A stomp.

 

A huff.

 

All three sounds could have reasonably triggered a startled reaction in the shop since it was after hours, but the mechanic underneath the busted 1992 cherry red Camaro continued his work. Not a drop of fear squeezing into his veins. Not even a tighter clench on his wrench since he knew those footsteps thundering into the shop as well as his own, and they practically were.

 

“Did you at least get sucked off?” Kylo called out.

 

A grunt.

 

A creak.

 

A bottle popping open.

 

“Why haven’t we figured out a better way to date?” his brother growled back, and since he wasn’t the designated growler of the family, Kylo took that as his cue to reluctantly push his mechanic cart out from under the car. A curious look in place as he watched a fired up Ben pacing the lobby, ranting towards the lobby walls, “We can land a man on the moon, but we can’t streamline a first date? What the hell are we even doing?”

 

In stark contrast to his brother diving further into dramatics, Kylo calmly hopped off the cart. “Do you want to switch over NASA’s resources from redirecting an asteroid to redirecting you to pussy?”

 

“Yes!” Ben hissed, and then he was laughing. “No.”

 

“Okay then.” Kylo grinned, pleased to have his geeky brother back to safeguarding the NASA budget. “So, we at least know that you’re not a pod person after the date.”

 

“Nope,” Ben sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “I’m just a guy who had no chance of getting laid.”

 

“Did you mention that you’re hung like a horse?”

 

Ben bristled. “Of course not.”

 

“Well, no wonder you’re going home alone.”

 

“Is that your gimmick?” Ben demanded, his stare as incredulous as his voice. “Is that what gets you laid? You just brag about your big dick over appetizers? Does that count for courting these days?”

 

Unfazed, Kylo unzipped his jumpsuit, stepping out of it. “No, but I also don’t refer to dating as courting. So, I don’t have to try as hard to make up for that.”

 

If a look could be a word, then the withering one that Ben sent to his brother wouldn’t dare be repeated in civilized company. Oh, it was a threat wrapped up in a blanket of indignation. It was brown eyes blazing with pissed off around the pupils, and if they were only a little younger, he’d have tackled Kylo to the ground when his brother had the audacity to smirk back. They’d have fought until the bubbling tension in his chest released with a pop of anger, they’d have fought until the tile shined, but unfortunately, his meathead of a family member had bulked up considerably since they were kids. Yes, there were muscles on Kylo that Ben didn’t think he could grow. There were muscles that he’d bet that Kylo couldn’t name, and so he settled for a look. A look to end all looks. A look that might not have struck fear into Kylo, but made him slightly worry that his next call for tech support from his brother might go unanswered.

 

“Do you want me to call Jessika P?” Kylo offered, extending a truce while opening up a mini fridge for his own beer. “She’s mentioned twice that she wouldn’t mind completing the set.”

 

“Hard pass.” Ben shuddered, waving him off. “I’m not screwing a girl who’s only looking to bang a duo of Solo’s.”

 

Removing the beer cap with the crease of his elbow, Kylo grunted.

 

“I thought you were desperate.”

 

“I just-” a quippy comment rushed to leap off of Ben’s tongue, but he was too exhausted to be anything other than honest. ”I just want someone who’s excited to be with me.”

 

If Kylo's back didn't ache from a fourteen-hour workday, he could have easily stretched out more teasing for another hour, but he threw in the towel. It was late. They both deserved to enjoy the rest of their beer. They also both deserved to stop talking about dating before the Saint's game started in fifteen minutes. In the spirit of that selfish benevolence, Kylo grabbed his laptop off his workstation. After dropping into the seat beside his brother, he rapidly typed in his password, and after a few more clicks, he pushed the computer over to Ben. A web page open, a terrible idea set into motion.

 

Ben took one look and shook his head. “No, I’ve already tried web dating, and Tinder, and MyCountryMatch.com when I was drunk.”

 

“Is that where the questionnaire asks if you’re a stallion or a show pony when you date?”

 

“Yes,” Ben admitted, wishing he could jump inside his beer.

 

“Ugh, I thought so, but that’s not important. It is fucking hilarious,” Kylo added, giving an eyebrow wiggle that meant that this would come up again and soon, “but the important thing right now is for you to be honest with me about what’s the actual part of dating that you hate the most. What gets your goat?”

 

“The miserable first date part,” Ben rattled off, holding up a finger for each rapid-fire reason. “The sitting across from the table repeating the same getting to know you questions part. The feeling awkward part because I’m better when I loosen up part. The pretending like this could be something special part when we both know that she’s secretly swiping right for the guy across the room in case her awkward date awkwardly crashes and burns.”

 

“Okay, done.”

 

Fresh off of baring his soul for a shrug, Ben’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “What do you mean done?”

 

“I’m going to create a profile, and you’re going to get laid, and then your first date is going to be awesome.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

Kylo winked. “Because I’m coming along.”

____________________

 

A loser.

 

A hippie.

 

A man with a suspicious white stripe on his tanned wedding finger.

 

In the back of the bus, Rey absently scrolled through online dating profiles.

 

No.

 

No.

 

Didn’t you message me under a different name?

 

Yes, yes you did.

 

You were touch my eggplant guy.

 

Dropping her phone back into her lap, the vet tech stared out of the window. Taking a break from men, and the absurdities of men, and the excessive dick pics of men in her inbox. All day she worked with misbehaving dogs, and in no mood for dealing with more, she watched the magnolia trees go by instead. Slowly pulling her mind out of the gutter, eventually remembering that life existed outside of good sex, but then the bus rocking over cobblestone jostled her butt in the seat. A bump, a grind, a rumble. A rather rude reminder that it had been too long since she'd earned a clitoral thrill that didn't come from something metallic and vibrating.

 

Oh, I need to buy more batteries!

 

Pressing a fist against her mouth, she laughed.

 

After an endless day of doggie nail clipping, the sleepy brunette accepted that she’d officially cracked, this had to be madness seeping in. A dollop of hysterical perving out. A stream of her sense leaking out when she’d just told herself to stop thinking of sex, but at least she was smiling again- and then smiling harder once she saw the open profile page under her thumb.

 

“Oh, that’s interesting.”

 

Benlo: 29

Do you hate awful first dates? Do you want to skip to the part where you’re eating with friends as opposed to painful one on ones? So do we! So go out with the two of us as friends and then see if you like one as more: one of whom is a rocket scientist with a questionable tattoo, and one who has been told by his brother not to mention his massive horse-sized cock.

 

“Oh my god, no.” Rey murmured, sliding her finger. “That’s not interesting. That’s freaking perfect.”

__________________

 

A heartbeat.

 

A lip swipe.

 

A second glance at her cell phone.

 

“It’s just friends,” Rey said to her reflection, pumping herself up while giving the final once-over in the Cafe Du Monde bathroom. A pounding at the door urging her out, but not before she’d made sure that there was still one sleeveless band shirt tucked in, one crimson suede skirt hugging her in all the right place, and one last stubborn maple-colored hair tucked behind her ear. “Just two hot friends meeting you over dessert.”

 

A perfectly normal- no expectations- hang out that only required another flask sip before Rey left the bathroom and her inhibitions behind her.

____________________

As she weaved her way around tables bustling with energy, Rey had to give it up to her new best friends. They couldn’t have picked a better spot for a not date. At eight, the Southern sun had gone down, the hordes of tourists thinned for a real dinner spot, and one couldn’t come off stuffy when stuffing yourself with Cafe Du Monde’s beignets. The perfect pastries were just too powdery for eating while taking oneself seriously, too delicious to hold back a moan. Too famously tasty to ever call a night with them a failure, but when she spotted the twins giving her a wave, she had a suspicion that she was in for a second round of treats by the end of the night.

 

Praise be, that’s a lot of handsome at one table.

 

Unfortunately for Rey, the Lord might have blessed that family, but he was not on her side when she accidentally bumped into a server while shamelessly gawking. Her nerves rattling her along with the server’s plates. Already wincing in anticipation for the public shaming from him, but an unexpectedly broad smile instead of an angry word turned out to be exactly what she needed before reaching the table.

 

I must look good if he’s not cursing me in French.

 

On those last few steps to the table, she might swayed her hips. An empowered feminine rocking back and forth that made the brothers sit up a little straighter in their chairs, and when they stood up to greet her, it might have also been a race to see who dished out the first hug. The leaner brother surprisingly winning, and did Rey melt a little when she breathed in his aftershave? Yes. Yes, she damn did.

 

“Nice to see you again, Rey.”

 

Just as quickly, she was released and then surrounded by another set of thicker arms. A whiff of citrus soap forcing her eyes close in order to fully appreciate her sense of smell. “It’s been too long, Rey," he hummed in contentment as good friends do, and when he let go, Rey forgot to sit down with him like a normal human being who'd passed etiquette classes at age nine and knew better than to stare with her mouth open.

 

“Uh...hiya, friends,” Rey played along, remembering their agreed roles of old chums even if she was having trouble recalling how to breathe. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

 

“No, you’re perfect-” the lean one started before correcting, “ly on time.”

 

His brother smirked. “Smooth.”

 

Nobody in a relationship could ever understand the relief that coursed through Rey's veins when she heard teasing. It was instantaneous. A bit of play having the power to loosen the anxious tension in her body because easy humor doesn’t happen on first dates in 2018. All attempts at stilted humor are generally forced after a round of, “Where are you from? What do you do? And which podcast are you listening to?” That's how it goes on dates- the same song and dance no matter the location. The listed info you dish out almost feeling like it’s not connected to you after you tell it enough- like it’s another person's story entirely that there might be a book report on later, and Rey’s smiling. They’ve barely started this weird meeting, but it’s already helping that there’s a previous relationship at the table.

 

I can do this.

 

Just like that, Rey’s received some hope for this experiment. The way she saw it, if conversation lagged, they'd take the spotlight off of her with their own banter, and men that looked that good deserved to take center stage. Oh yes, the two-inch version of them on her phone screen didn’t do the Solo brothers justice, and how lucky for her.

 

Usually, the chance to pick out your best picture did you more favors than your date, but Rey had zero complaints. The heights looked right, no obvious photoshop used, and before agreeing to the please-don’t-be platonic meetup, they’d already swapped brief histories on the dating app so she wasn't going in completely blind on their likes and dislikes either. From what Rey remembered, the leaner one was named Ben. Aside from being categorically hot as fuck, he worked at Michoud on a team for the Orion spacecraft, he swam laps every day, and he was well-traveled. On paper, he was her type: smart, but not a hermit, and healthy. Blessedly no sign of ego on him when he’s nervously running a hand through his thick, short hair, pushing his black-rimmed glasses higher up the bridge of a striking nose. Always in motion except for when she’s talking, and then he’s gorgeously still and focused.

 

Staring up at her as if she’s just announced that they’ve found water on Mars, and for the sake of earning another smile from him, she hopes they do.

 

“How was the drive over?” Ben asked.

 

“I walked,” Rey cleared her throat, finally getting around to sitting when the waiter set down fresh beignets.”I would walk even longer for these beauties.”

 

Picking up his own pastry, Ben gently knocked some of the powder sugar off the top. “Isn’t crazy how you never grow tired of them? Like, even if you grew up here.”

 

“How could you ever grow tired of perfection?” Rey mused, and making sure not to breathe out any puffs of snowy mistake she took a bite. “Fuck, that’s good.”

 

A pretty girl cursing must have been right up Kylo’s alley because he bit the corner of his lip in response, dragged the flesh while following Rey’s swallow. Not bothering with his treat yet when his eyes were eating up the suggestive motion, watching her throat bob, and Rey suddenly felt empathy for her beignet when similarly devoured in the silence. A little breathless under the stranger's heated, hazel stare that indulged, made her feel seen and petite even before he was leaning over the table. As natural as if they’ve known each other for ages when he rubbed a spot of white powder off of her finger.

 

“You’re always so messy.”

 

Rey swallowed again without another bite. “Oh?”

 

“Yeah,” leaning back into his chair, Kylo nodded. “That’s why you and Ben never worked out. He’s far too tidy for either one of us.”

 

From her vantage point, Rey couldn’t see anything happening, but Kylo’s eyes watered as if a swift boot stomp had met the top of his foot. A second later another thump followed, both brothers squirmed in their chairs, and it’s a gift for Rey. Just when she thought she might act a fool, they beat her to it.

 

“Ya’ll are ridiculous.”

 

“Well, we can’t just be handsome,” Kylo quipped, and Rey flicked sugar off her plate towards him.

 

“Who said that you were handsome?”

 

“Your eyes.”

 

“Oh my gosh,” Rey snickered, taking another bite. “Thank God that this isn’t a date because I’d be dashing out after that cheesy line.”

______________________

 

It’s easier to date in a group setting, or just easy for Rey with these two.

 

If at any point Kylo wanders into smug, Ben reins him back in; and if at any point Ben threatens to wander into excessive NASA talk then Kylo shuts it down by coughing out the words sex-killer. One way or another, they'll crack open another smile from Rey while working out their righteous indignation, and she’s supposed to pick one brother to date, but it’s too fun with both. After two hours, the decision isn't any easier.

 

So they wander around the French Quarter while she makes up her mind.

 

Never pausing in conversation, but surrendering to the Big Easy night time appeal as they casually stroll by street art, psychics, and haunting tours. Listening to another marching band go by when they’re passing underneath pastel macaroon colored balconies that are two hundred years old. Never pointing anything to one another because they’ve seen it all before, but Rey’s appreciating the journey.

 

Oh yes, she could spend ages with the present company enjoying the best parts of New Orleans mixing with the most played out, and it’s all because she can’t say that anything about the night is familiar.

 

It’s fun.

 

It’s fresh.

 

It’s not how first dates go.

 

No, you don't click like this on first dates, and everybody's so natural with one another that when they find street daiquiris, Rey’s not surprised at all that Kylo chooses Sex on the Beach. Of course, he’d choose that flavor. Of course, he’d boldly bite the straw before a sip, yanking Rey from over him into wanting to be under him in seconds, and he’s too much. When she smacked him on his beefy bicep, she told him so, but he only lifted his shoulder with a smile that the Cheshire cat would say is too indulgent. No use pretending that he’ll change his stripes when swagger has gotten him this far in life, but Rey suspects that whatever he’s packing in his jeans didn’t hurt.

 

Oh my God, those jeans.

 

Where Ben had gone with a respectable grey button-up and jeans, Kylo took the even more relaxed route. The muscles under his simple black t-shirt doing all the bragging for him. The tendrils of his hair not slicked with pomade when grazing his shoulders, and he's effortless and masculine. Not fussy at all, but the kind of beautiful brute who throws you over his shoulder while smacking your ass. The kind of man who's immediately comfortable in any room because he's in it, and Rey can't help but think that he doesn’t need dressy when he wears pants that well. The black denim hugging the front of his bulge, showing off the outline of a thick pipe that isn't in the mechanic's toolbox, and did he just catch her staring? Yes. Yes, he did.

 

A flood of crimson drowns out her freckles, but it’s no use trying to stop it when Ben’s turned away to pick up his order, and Kylo's bending down to brush his lips over Rey’s.

 

A press.

 

A suck.

 

A promise to not rush later.

 

A choice between the twins made easier, but Rey can’t be sure that it’s the smart one when Kylo pulls back and Rey admits that he tasted of peach schnapps and trouble. Nothing but a good idea tonight with a heck of a hangover tomorrow. A familiar, treacherous path in front of her that she’s taken before with other confident men and too much alcohol, but those jeans…

_____________________

 

The role of belle of the ball isn’t a comfortable fit for Rey.

 

It’s not a normal Saturday for her to end up at the center of two men’s attention. To be sure, nobody’s ever suggested that she’s closer to a swamp hag, but Rey gets that she’s not a traditional knock-out. The green in her eyes isn’t ever likened to a meadow, the curve of her lips never described as lush like one either. There’s certainly no hips to speak of, and only the smallest handful of tits. Instead of any sort of hourglass shape, she gets a half hour at best, but she’s strong, and lean, and shockingly at home in the company of two tree-level twins: a tawny acorn in their midst. A tasty morsel for them that feels surprisingly delicious when Ben kisses her on the cheek, tells her to wish him luck.

 

In the back of the bar, she honors his request, calling out for him to kick some ass, but he didn’t need the encouragement.

 

No, Ben Solo can sing.

 

At the shittiest of karaoke dive bars, he’s the alpha who makes that stage his bitch. A sight to be seen when singing Queen. An electric performer who can move his damn hips and all that Rey thinks she knows about him went flying out the sooty windows. Nothing left in her but heat for him, and need for him, and a thigh-clenching desire to lick his chest clean of sweat when he unbuttoned his shirt for the crowd. The tease showing off as his voice soars, and when he returned to the table all breathless and grinning while Kylo was getting another round, Rey acted on her rum-induced impulses.

 

Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, she crushed their lips together. Slipping him the tongue, biting his lip that tastes better than she ever imagined. A mixture of fearless and horny egging her on,  but then it's only fear left once she realized that he wasn't reacting. No fingers scraping against her jaw, or scalp. No sign at all that he’s glad about being manhandled and Rey recalled too late that this was the one easily flustered, the twin less likely to cuss. This is the kind and handsome man that she's offended by being bold as brass, but as if she’s flipped a switch by starting to pull away, he becomes the man in motion again. But, this time around, there’s nothing anxious, analytical, or polite about his answering moan against her mouth. No, the growling rumble on her flesh says that she tastes so good, feels fucking phenomenal, and when he cusses he makes it count.

 

For a first kiss, they don't knock teeth or miss their mark. No, they fit, they flourish. All hands seamlessly pushing up shirts, their bodies moving in sync. Everything working for them after a few drinks loosened them up, but before Rey can continue catching fire under neon blinking lights, there’s a cough from the other side of the table- one startling noise shooting them apart and killing the mood. Looking up at Kylo, the guilty party are left red-cheeked after realizing how spectacularly they've failed at noticing the third wheel returning to jostle their ride, but he wasn't clenching his jaw or fists.

 

Instead, he handed them their drinks, gave Rey a wink and his brother an eye roll.

 

“You just had to sing Queen didn’t you?”

_____________________

 

A shot.

 

A second shot.

 

An invitation for them to walk her home.

 

Though they stayed out late, it hit the time of night when all good things must come to the end. No more playing around. No more playing the middle ground for Rey. For better or worse, after she reached her doorway, she'd hold one a little longer, make an offer for an actual solo Solo date. No other option available to her but to at least choose one of the guys who'd made giving her stomach flips their favorite pastime.

 

It’s supposed to be a fortunate thing to have options. It’s supposed to make a girl feel like Queen of the Deviants when both ridiculously hot brothers keep snatching her gaze while walking beside her, giving her reasons upon reasons to choose wisely or choose recklessly. It should feel like a win regardless, but Rey's greedy heart rattled uncomfortably inside her chest when she began to say goodbye.

 

I want both.

 

It’s selfish.

 

It’s foolish.

 

It’s impossible, but she gestured for them to go inside.

 

“One more drink?”

 

“We should switch to water,” Ben suggested, his hand on the small of her back as he followed her in.”But I’m down.”

 

In the end, it was Kylo who lingered outside, scratching the scruff along his jawline. A not that surprising result after it struck Rey that he probably didn't fight so hard for sex or relationships. No doubt both came on a platter when you looked like he did, carried the rustic charm that he did, and he didn't seem like the type who begged. No, as difficult as it had been for Rey to make up her mind, he'd taken the weight off of her shoulders by glancing once behind him at strings-free freedom, ready to concede since a girl like Rey clearly wasn't worth the effort. But with a head shake of resignation, Kylo stepped forward. A decision made up without fanfare. A decision doubled down when he slipped Rey’s fingers between his, gave her a tug towards the kitchen.

 

“C’mon, let's see that water of yours that everybody’s raving about.”

 

They stumbled through Rey's home. A shoulder bumping here and there in the dark, a hand steadying on her hip. A touch from both at once when she tripped into the kitchen and Rey would have happily tripped again for another round of those addictive shivers that raced down her body. That's how good it felt, how right. Thankfully for her face though, Ben asked Rey for the glasses before she foolishly flung herself on the floor. The silly impulse disappearing, the water soon flowing, and the trio passionately launching into another spirited discussion on food, and fathers, and football. A whole twenty minutes of getting to know you's made effortless when Rey’s warm and getting warmer with every flash of Kylo's dimples. No other feeling comparing to earning his bubbliest laugh, his huskiest shocked exclamation, and laughing harder still at it all when he pretended to be enraged before picking her up and placing her on the counter.

 

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a game.”

 

Draping her arm on top of the microwave, Rey snorted. “That made you so angry that you put me on the counter?”

 

“Yes,” Kylo stepped in closer, parting her knees with his thighs. “I thought the oxygen up here might sort you out.”

 

Choosing to ignore that, Rey swung her stare over to Ben, speaking evenly as if there wasn’t currently over six feet of man crowding her personal space. “Is he always this forward, impulsive, and ridiculous?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And he can’t sing?”

 

“Nope,” Ben chuckled, resting his shoulder against her kitchen wall.“He’s the far weaker sounding twin.”

 

“I make the right noises when it counts,” Kylo cupped Rey’s knee, his massive hand covering everything while touching not enough, and she believed him.

 

I wonder what you’ll sound like when I’m on top of you?

 

“Only one way to find out,” Kylo replied, and Rey paled when she realized that her booze-muddled brain had let her previous comment past her lips.

 

“Oh fuck,” she mouthed.

 

“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Ben muttered, setting his cup onto Rey’s kitchen table. “Y'all have fun.”

 

“Wait,” Rey cried out, immediately forgetting all the rational reasons why she shouldn’t finish that sentence.”I’m sorry. It just slipped-”

 

“It’s okay,” Ben reassured Rey as her face pinched up in distress, giving her a goodbye pat on her hand. “He’s a jackass, but he’ll treat you well, and I’ll be fine.”

 

It's alcohol, or panic, or an all-consuming need to keep him. Likely all three at once, but Rey clung to part of Ben’s shirt to keep him in place. The hold insistent, her fingers curling. Pulling at him, pulling for him, but it could never possibly keep back somebody who wanted to go. It's easy for someone his size to break away. It's easier to call it a night when it could only lead to trouble between him and family, but Ben didn't pull away. Staring at her fist, he paused while breathing hard from his nose, maybe not ready to let her go either if she might want him half as bad as he’d craved her ever since he saw her work her magic through the cafe.

 

“What do you want, Rey?”

 

“I don’t want you to go.”

 

Shaking his head as if coming out of a daze, Ben flicked his stare up to meet hers. No chance of mixing up who’s speaking to her. No question of which husky tone stole her breath even if she would have expected the promise from Kylo.

 

“If I stay, I’m going to fuck you.”

 

A sharp inhale parted her lips, and Rey nodded her head.

 

In the blink of a widened eye, the three people in the room had turned into two. All of Rey’s world focused no longer on the man holding her leg, but now wholly centered on Ben. The one who Rey once accepted was more logical than instinctive. The formerly shy one who now revealed how bossy he could be when he hit his stride, how easily he could flicker dangerous, wild sparks between them even before cocking his head towards his brother.

 

“Do you want him to stay?”

 

Unable to grab onto any words, Rey again nodded.

 

Purposefully mirroring his brother, Ben placed his hand on Rey's other knee, drifted it higher. “Do you want him to watch?”

 

“Oh my god,” Rey gasped, an ingrained impulse to deny with a shake of her head already surging forward. The lifetime good girl in her showing up to say slow down, think it through. That practical voice in her mind screaming reminders to play it safe, be rational, but when she checked in on Kylo, and he wasn’t looking on with disgust but with interest, Rey gave the middle finger to cock-blocking caution.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

The beg barely left her mouth before an arm banded around her waist, a hard body crushed against her. One pair of lips trailing down her neck as another met her shoulder. The spots they touched engulfed by fire into goosebumps, and Rey couldn’t sort out who belonged with what, but she’s all theirs. Too hot to worry about offending feelings, family bonds, or sexualities. Too turned on for tentative when tandem gasps broke against her skin when she palmed the men over their jeans. On her worst behavior so quickly, but there’s no room for shame when she’s full of euphoria.

 

A goddess.  

 

A plaything.

 

Adored.

 

It's nothing she knew to ask for. It was never an option on the menu to get a mouthful of each, but she's kissing one and then the other. An endless give and take taking her over with every forbidden taste, every fervent gasp. A turn of her head bringing her back to somebody groaning for her, demanding more time, and then Kylo's picking her up. A moan against his lips turning into a laugh. Then a louder one escaping after she's carried through the house, tossed on her bed. Already close to out of her mind but now seeing double when Ben and Kylo hastily pull off their shirts, discard jeans. An impossibly sexy choose your own adventure stripping down in front of her, and Rey's not sure where it'll end, but she's eager to get her wanderlust on since she obviously can’t be trusted to deny herself anything.

 

“This isn’t what I expected,” she whimpered, back arching as Kylo evens the playing field. Unzipping her skirt, peeling it down her legs and off the bed along with her shirt, her bra, her sanity. “We don’t have to-”

 

Kneeling down on the bed, he pressed a finger against her lips. “One then the other, or both at the same time?”

 

Those words. Those words in that throaty growl can tip a girl’s chin back, make her sink her mouth down his finger. Sucking to the knuckle. Sucking him to fluttering his lashes.

 

“All of the above,” Rey moaned, releasing Kylo’s finger, and he lightly smacked her cheek with his wet digits. A bit playful, a lot predatory. Never hurting, but aggressively reclaiming a lick of control after her licks, and there’s Rey's boy shorts ripped to shreds in his hands. The lace tatters tossed away, her skin bared, and his obscene mouth indulging in a second round of dessert.

 

One moan after another hummed against her clit, made her thrash in the bed, and his fingers curled up inside of Rey. Rocking her forward, against him. Squeaking the bed frame with every skillful twist and beckon, and all Rey could do was whatever Kylo wanted when he’s staring up at her between sucks. All her pink against his wet. All her tingling rolling across his taste buds. All her senses feeling fried into overloaded, but a jacking off Ben beside her proved that they could take more.

 

Up and down and fucking himself into his fist, he kneeled next to her. The muscles in his forearm straining while jerking. The strokes speeding up before he's tapping her chin, inviting Rey to lick as Kylo licks her. No more urging required for her, and she's circling her tongue around his hardened shaft, teasing the velvet soft over steel before flattening her tongue for him to use her face in earnest. The short thrusts building saliva into a froth. A drop of depravity sneaking out more and more as he quickened. All that naughty tension in her jaw making her toes curl, but Ben doesn’t slow until she’s gagging, the submissive noise rumbling against his pleasure. The streams of spit dribbling down her chin, her gossamer threads joining his skin to her lust.  

 

“I don’t mind all messes,” Ben purred, smearing his thumb across her chin and Rey’s fingers tangled in Kylo’s long tresses. Keeping him close, keeping him right where she needed after that damn purr, and when she moaned their names, she gave them both a piece of her climax.

 

A little bit of her for them.

________________

 

What if she can’t pick?

 

Leave it to Kylo to pose a blunt question like that in public. As Ben finished drying his hands in the bar bathroom, his brother wasn’t anywhere near suggesting a torrid threesome on top of floral sheets as the solution to their upcoming problem. He couldn’t predict how the night would end, couldn't guess at what they’d later do in the dark, but he was daring Ben to question if Rey could like them equally. Let him wonder what could happen if she wouldn’t immediately pick Kylo even though Ben had caught the intense looks, smiles, and laughs that forced his brother's dimples to show up.

 

They’d always been competitive. They’d fought numerous battles all the way back to when they were only babbling. If you stacked up the twenty-nine years of wins, the odds weren’t on his side, but a still hopeful Ben shrugged when he grabbed the door. “Then one of us walks away.”

 

“I like her.”

 

“Yeah, me too.”

____________________

 

They’re flirting.

 

They’re frisky.

 

They’re not even halfway done with each other.

 

It’s funny though how not jealous Ben was hours later. Rationally, he should be. After all, there’s his brother ravenously kissing his way down those sleek tan legs, grabbing her slim ankles. The both of them exchanging whoops of laughter after he gave her body a yank, and she squealed. The shocking babe somehow now startled by the big bad wolf long after he feasted on her.

 

As Ben continued to observe the naked couple enthusiastically occupying the same bed, the same humor, the time for feeling insecure was right about then, but he couldn't be bothered with worrying. It was his turn to pleasure Rey. There’s so much of her deliciousness to go around, and by some twist of fate, she didn't mind that he’s the dark one and Kylo the more light and fun in bed. No, by the way that Rey guzzled down his cock as her thighs quaked against his twin's ears, she appreciated both sides of the coin. Is down for it, could have another go, and it's no passing kink when she’s reaching out again for Ben.

 

“I don’t know how to do this,” she murmured, cheeks flushing.

 

The corner of his lips tipped up into a rascally smirk.

 

“Let me take the lead then.”

 

Keeping his distance at the end of the bed, Kylo dragged a hand through his tousled hair as his twin climbed over to the middle of the bed, beckoning the recently ravaged Rey into his lap. An encouraging glint in his eye pushing her from shy to crawling up his body, draping her hands over his shoulders. Looking up at him with those big, gorgeous doe eyes as she straddled him, and he thanked her trust with a searing kiss. Feeling her melt in his arms, against him. Feeling a confession of want breathed against his tongue. At any second, she could still leave, he could leave, or Kylo could. Better than anyone, the man with a head for math understood probability, and that's why he set out to enjoy her while they could.

 

“So damn sweet,” he murmured against her lips. “Are you still wet?

 

The little minx slid a hand between her thighs, held it up. “Is this wet enough for you?”

 

“Oh, you’re glistening.” Leaning forward, Ben licked her palm. “That should be enough for me to fit into that tiny snatch of yours.”

 

Up close, Ben could see when the dark of her pupils engulfed the iris. The moment she was his. The moment when he couldn’t be envious of anything other than Rey’s fingertips receiving the divine pleasure of being allowed to touch herself every morning. Not wasting his chance in the night, he gripped onto the base of his shaft, nudged between her thighs. Massaging her now tender pearl with languid strokes up and down. Gentle with something so precious, teasing and slow without going all the way in, and all of that tender loving care for the benefit of throwing her off balance when he whispered, “And if not, I’ll just have Kylo spit onto my cock.”

 

Snapping his hips up, he entered her with a groan.

 

Living for the shocked dig of her nails in his shoulders, dying over those first grinding twists on his lap as he held her by the hips, showed her what he liked. Showed her how fast he wanted her to take him. Over and over and over again with her vise-like clench throbbing around him so prettily as Ben’s lip curled in satisfaction. No words coming out of him as he preferred pulling moans from her chest. No dirty talk feeling right enough for describing those beautiful tits in his face, her mangled gasps near his ear, and he was leaning back. Still pumping up into her, but biting his bottom lip into white at the sight of her on top.

 

“So tight,” he hissed, slowing her down, “I can feel how close you are.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“You ready?” The question shook as his hands slid back to squeeze her ass, ease her open to show off. “You want us both?”

 

“Yes-”

 

As comfortable as Ben is with a mindfuck, Kylo’s better with his hands. At Rey’s yes, they curved around her hips, angled her just right. Let her know that she’s with somebody who knows what he’s doing when instead of diving into using her, he massaged her one finger at a time- widening her to take him. Oh so carefully preparing the last part of her that the brothers haven’t defiled that night even when they’re all roughly breathing, thrumming with anticipation. So stupidly assuming that their passion couldn’t peak any higher until Kylo trades a finger for spit-slick cock, and Rey cried out with a sound that she didn’t know could come out of her.

 

A whimper.

 

A moan.

 

A shared staccato laugh.

 

If there’s a better feeling in the world, nobody in the bed would believe it. How could anything compare to these unreal sensations? The in and out and something other. The urgent pace of one twin and steady rhythm of another that shouldn’t work so harmoniously, but somehow does. It built up so quickly. The movements escalating from exploratory to drilling into Rey. The whines and whimpers from her merging into pleading to go faster, and Ben couldn't get over how much Kylo narrowed the passage. If Rey was small before, she’s downright tiny now. Only a thin strip of her between him and his brother’s motions that kept rutting surreal pressure on Ben with every push forward, and he wouldn't last long. 

 

Not when she’s begging like that.

 

Not when she’s reaching back to gather Kylo’s hair in her hands.

 

Dragging him to her to steal desperate kiss after desperate kiss as Ben clamps his teeth around her nipple, reminding her with a loud suck that they desire more from her too.

 

“Feels so ah-” Kylo grunted, stretching a groan. “Oh, shit, I’m going to hell-”

 

It’s not only too much for Kylo. It’s everything for everyone. It’s the sweat misting on Rey's skin, the wet dripping off Kylo and onto Ben, those last few strokes when he used that lusty lubrication to finish off inside of this incredible woman as she's fluttering around him, crying out as her eyes close. All three spent and screwed and satiated after chasing their ecstasy. All three sprawled out on the bed, damp from each other, chests rising and falling after taking the plunge into the dark blue unknown.

 

If anybody walked in, it would be impossible to tell where one leg began and another ended. Somehow, they'd inched closer to their wits without drifting farther apart through the shockwaves, and they continued surprising themselves by proving better at merging than breaking bonds. It was a relief for Ben. Instead of expected panic, his ego remained intact after sharing the same girl, his connection with his twin reassuringly too strong to be torn apart by such a pretty, young thing. Or at least he thought so before Rey complicated the narrative by nuzzling closer to Kylo, a leg sliding between his thighs. A closeness obvious when they can’t stop touching long after they’ve gotten off, and Ben might have experienced stinging rejection if it weren’t for a perky rear pressing against him. A nudge for him too.

 

“This is going to be really awkward in the morning,” Rey yawned. “Isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” Ben sighed, resting his forehead on her spine.“Kylo’s terrible at making coffee, and I steal the covers.”

 

Closing her eyes with a smile, Rey nodded off to sleep. “Mmm, guess I’ll just have to keep you both since nobody else would want that.”