5Disclaimer: I make no money off my writings. Just an endless supply of angst and love.
Prompt: "Rey gets caught in one of Arizona's famous monsoons. She seeks shelter in Skywalker Comics, her frequent haunt. Only Luke isn't working that night, it's his nephew Ben, and she's soaking wet."
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MCAL 3
As if being without a car in the heat of Phoenix wasn't bad enough, it was bloody monsoon season.
Prior to moving from England nearly two years ago, Rey had read up on the city. She knew Arizona was hot—read: hotter than the first layer of hell—with highs reaching nearly seven degrees celsius higher than she was used to in the mild summers of London. She was prepared for the creepy crawlies that plagued the city. Scorpions, spiders that were literally the size of her hand, and even… snakes. Ugh. She hated the snakes. She was prepared for it all—except these bloody monsoons.
Rey was used to rain. She grew up in fucking London, for Christ's sake. What she was not accustomed to was the massive deluge of water that poured from clouds as if it was trying to drown the world.
Biting her bottom lip, Rey internally cursed her luck (or lack thereof) as the city bus sloshed through the rain storm, taking her ever closer to her stop. She thought she'd timed her commute better. She was supposed to miss the storm, but clearly the forecast had somehow changed between leaving her flat this morning and her last class at uni.
Rey shifted on the too-hard plastic seat, and leaned forward and pulled the oversized hood of her sweatshirt over her head. She wasn't dressed for the rain—opting to wear her well-worn pair of Converse and denim trousers when she left for class this morning—and now with the prospect of having to deal with wet sneakers for her entire shift at Skywalker's she was really kicking herself for choosing comfort over practicality.
Pushing off the seat, Rey yanked the string cable to signal she needed the next stop, and she shoved her mobile phone into the front pocket of her denims, charging port side down so if any rain did get into her pocket it wouldn't be damaged.
She muttered soft apologies as she moved down the narrow aisle of the bus, knees colliding with others as she made her way towards the door, her body swaying with the gentle motion of the moving vehicle. She gripped the metal rail, her lips thinning into a grimace as she watched the downpour turn into a near sheet of rain, and her body lurched as the bus came to a halt at her requested exit.
She could just return home or ride out the storm in the safety of the number 92 line, but she knew Luke would be pissed if she was any later than she already was. He liked to sneak off to the back room to medicate promptly at her six-o-clock arrival and seeing as her wrist watch told her it was nearly fifteen minutes after the hour and she had a minimum of a five-minute walk, she knew he was going to be grumpier than usual.
Gritting her teeth, Rey took a final breath and held it in her lungs as she jammed her thumb against the oversized red button that would open the doors. The hinges squeaked in protest as the doors opened to the elements, and the hiss of the rain and wind muted by the safety of the bus gave way to the cacophony of water slamming on the pavement.
Jamming her hands into her trouser pocket, she curled one hand protectively over her phone before she descended the slippery stairs, her trainers squeaking loudly on the plastic steps. She landed on the sidewalk with a loud squelch. Water instantly flooded the sides of her shoes, soaking straight through the thick pair of socks she'd pulled on this morning, and the bottom hem of her pants began to collect water like a sponge.
"Fucking hell," Rey cursed into the storm, her nose wrinkling as she dipped her head in a feeble attempt to keep water off of her face. She took off down the sidewalk at a hurried pace, ready to find refuge from the storm at her place of employment.
The five-minute walk turned into a three-minute sprint, and by the time she pushed open the sticker-covered front door of Skywalker Comics, she was dripping from head to toe.
She was positively soaked—her outfit had collected more water than Rey thought scientifically possible considering she was just in denim trousers, a tshirt and her sweatship—but then again, she made it a habit to avoid the wet weather as much as possible. She'd had enough of the dark and gloomy days while growing up to last her a lifetime. Part of the bloody reason she had chosen Arizona was because it wasn't supposed to fucking rain. It was the middle of the bloody desert! It had literally been over ninety degrees Fahrenheit earlier!
The jingle of the bell that sat perched on the door filled the small shop, signaling her entrance, and Rey didn't even bother to look up as she flung her hood back off her head and began across the threadbare carpeted floor, her trainers making a sickening squelch with each step. "Sorry! I would have texted, but you know, your lack of an actual mobile makes it a bit hard to get ahold of you in emergenc—"
Rey's words caught in her throat when her eyes finally lifted to the register where she expected to find the frowning face of her employer for the past year, but instead saw a man who was most definitely not Luke.
He was big. Massive, really. His body took up the majority of the narrow space behind the cash register. His shoulders were wide and thick, like a rugby player's, and even from her vantage point she could make out the hint of a narrowed waist. Although logically she knew the man was perched on the stool Luke purchased last winter at her request, she wondered how he had been able to fold himself behind the display case without having to lop his legs off at the knee.
But it was more than just his size. This man was… fuck, he was handsome. His skin was pale, but not that 'I spend all day in my mum's basement' sort of pasty. No, he was fucking ivory, as if he always lathered on sunscreen before even daring to step foot into the summer's sun. The smoothness of his skin was broken by a smattering of dark freckles and moles that made her wonder how many more might linger beneath his clothing. Were they on his shoulders and chest? How far down did this constellation of beauty marks run?
She stared with raised brows and her mouth open, her train of thought derailing into a near catastrophic crash within her mind. Her brain struggled to find a reason why an impossibly handsome stranger was sitting in the spot Luke should be. Who was he? Where was Luke? Was she fired and the old arsehole forgot to tell her? It wouldn't have been the first time he threatened to replace her, but she'd always just assumed they were empty threats.
Like when he told her to never order pineapple on pizza again or he would murder her. He wasn't actually going to kill her, just bitch and complain to the point where she contemplated ritual suicide by means of a ballpoint pen. But maybe he wasn't joking anymore? When was his last threat of letting her go? Surely it'd been a week or two—she'd been on his good side for at least three days!
Of course, none of this would explain why instead of her boss, she was gawking at a handsome stranger.
"You must be Rey."
Oh fuck. He knew her name.
He knew her bloody name.
Rey gulped, trying to dislodge the golf-ball-sized lump that had suddenly formed in her throat at the sight of this Adonis behind the counter. She nodded her head slowly, and her hands ungracefully smoothed across the wet denim at her hips nervously.
"You're late," the man deadpanned, his lips twitching just slightly at the corner of his mouth as he dragged his eyes across her body, taking notice of her disheveled appearance before he lifted his gaze back to hers. "Does Luke not make you phone in if you're late?"
Rey shook her head no again, her tongue running across her teeth before she cleared her throat. "Uh… he doesn't actually have a phone… something about bad vibes. Look, I'm sorry, but who are you?" she questioned, a soft knit to her brow and eyes narrowing on the stranger curiously.
The question seemed to cause something to register within the man because his brows rose, and the apathy that had kept his face blank vanished. "Of course he didn't tell you." He unfolded himself from behind the counter, large hands pushing up the sleeve on the black Galaxy Battles hoodie he wore, which exposed forearms that Rey was certain looked like they'd been fucking sculpted from marble. Muscular, but not bulging. Defined with thick veins that made her mouth water.
The soft jingle of a lanyard around his neck marked his movement as he slid from behind the counter and towards her.
Tall was an understatement; he was a bloody giant!
Rey had clearly underestimated just how big this man was. When he reached her, she couldn't help but notice that the top of her head barely met the center of his chest. If she had to guess, she'd clock him about 6'4"—if she was paying attention to that sort of thing. But of course, she wasn't. Besides clearly it would be weird to have immediate fantasies about climbing said strange man who was in Luke's place behind the counter at her job.
She most definitely was not thinking about the way those arms would feel wrapped around her.
Or how his hands looked like they might fit perfectly around her—
"I'm Ben," he said, gesturing to the plastic covered nametag. The words Baby-Solo could be scarily seen beneath a thick layer of black Sharpie, and where he'd hastily scrawled BEN in all capitals.
Ben.
Ben was a good name.
Maybe he was Benjamin. She'd once met an adorable black dog named Benjamin at the park in Mulberry—not that this Ben was anything like the scruffy mutt, but still. It was at least a promising sign, right?
"I'm Rey."
"…I know."
"Oh shit. Right." Rey's hand lifted, her fingertips touching her forehead as she grimaced up at the half giant/half man. "Sorry, I uh… I don't make a habit of coming in late. It's just the rain made my bus late, and then I had to run here. And… um, I'm not really sure why I'm explaining this to you. Where's Luke? Are you the new help he's been talking about hiring?"
"You could say that," Ben replied as he lifted a hand to card through his thick black hair, pushing it back on his head. "I bought the store from my uncle last week. I flew in to sign the paperwork, and he took off before the ink had even dried."
"Bought the store? As in this store?" Rey made an awkward gesture around them, a trail of water dripping off her hoodie and onto the floor. Why on earth would anyone actually want to buy Skywalker Comics? It wasn't as if Luke was making a lot of money from running the place. In fact, Rey was fairly certain he was losing it. Comic books and tabletop games weren't exactly popular anymore and the little niche market they did have— well, Luke alienated himself from many potential customers just by existing. He hated nearly every loyal patron they had and drove countless customers away with his ranting and raving. How Rey had managed to get on his good side long enough to secure a part-time job was still beyond her.
Though if she had to guess, it was because of her love for the original trilogy. While the newer Galaxy Battle movies captivated many of her peers, Rey had always found the original films a far better representation of the diversity of the series. This belief seemed to be the magic potion needed to win over Luke's blackened heart, for after their first initial discussion on the series she'd had a job offer by the end of the week.
It hadn't been much of a job offer. Minimum wage and twenty hours a week, but it paid what little bills Rey did have. Sure, she should have probably looked for something with more hours and better pay, but she enjoyed the comic store. It reminded her of the small store that she used to hide in after school before returning to her group home. She'd stay hidden between the rows in the musty old shop, pouring over the latest issues of X-Men and The Fantastic Four.
"Unless there is another Skywalker Comics I don't know about, then yes, I bought this store." Ben's dark eyes narrowed on her skeptically, as if trying to assess if Rey was really as daft as she'd made herself out to be over the course of their ten-minute interaction.
"I wasn't aware it had been for sale."
"It wasn't."
"…you just said you bought it."
"I did."
"But… it wasn't for sale."
"Correct."
Rey's mouth opened and closed several times before she decided that the conversation regarding to Ben's sudden acquisition of Skywalk Comics was clearly going nowhere. "Okay… So, Ben… new store owner… I guess I should apologize for being late."
"It's fine. I supposed you couldn't help it with the storm," Ben said, and his eyes lifted to peer over her shoulder to the large windows that made up the front of the store where the monsoon raged on outside. "Did you say you ran here?"
"Technically I jogged from the bus stop. Running in a monsoon is not advisable." Rey shifted her weight between her feet, her fingers curling around the dripping hem of her sweatshirt and wringing water from the fabric and onto the floor.
"You don't drive?" Ben questioned, dark brown eyes flicking back down to her.
She could sense an air of disbelief in his voice, and she couldn't really blame him. Phoenix was a large city, and without reliable transportation it was hard to navigate—even with halfway decent public transit. "I have my license," Ray said as she fumbled to fish her wallet from her waterlogged purse on her hip. Shaking off some of the excess rain, she flipped open her small black wallet and turned her ID towards Ben. "But no car. I usually catch a ride from my roommate during storms, but she had to work, and I was on campus before coming here… so the bus it was."
"Hm…" Ben's lips pursed to the corner of his mouth, and his eyes dropped to the floor. Rey followed his gaze and found the carpet underneath her soggy sneakers beginning to stain from the rainwater that still dripped off her clothing. She looked up just in time to watch his nostrils flare in what she could only assume was irritation. Before she could so much as utter an apology for sloshing water across the store, Ben tugged down the sleeves of his hoodie and pulled the garment off in one fell swoop.
As he untangled the lanyard from the hood of his sweatshirt, Rey couldn't help but notice the way his askew hair revealed a set of ears that stuck out just a little too much. It gave the whole massive masculine sex appeal that seemed to exude from him an adorable twist. She wondered if the shaggy hairstyle was a means of covering them up or because he was a typical lazy comic store nerd who only went to the barber once a year. As much as she'd come to enjoy the clientele of Skywalker Comics, she'd come to notice that for that particular crowd, personal upkeep was not at the top of their priority list.
To be fair, it wasn't exactly on hers either. She had pairs of underwear older than she cared to admit, and nearly all of her socks had holes in them. But since she'd moved to Arizona, she spent more than half her time in sandals, so she found little need to actually go purchase new socks when she wore them less than two months out of the year.
"Here." Ben extended the hand clutching his faded Galaxy Battles hoodie towards her. "You should probably change."
Rey eyed the clothing skeptically, her fingers nervously tugging at the hem of her on sodden sweatshirt. Why would he offer his bloody sweatshirt? Who was this pseudo knight-in-shining armor? In Rey's experience, these things typically came with some sort of catch. Nothing in life was ever this easy, and nobody—literally nobody wanted to do things for her without something in return. "Ehh…"
"Luke kept pretty shit stock on new product, but regardless there are at least some valuable comics here. You can't exactly work a shift slinging water everywhere, now can you?" Ben thrust his hand out a bit further, brows lifting as his dark brown eyes implored her to take the damn thing. As much as she wanted to turn down his offer, she reached forward and took the garment.
"Thanks." Technically, he was her boss now. Had she turned him down, it could be considered insubordination, and she didn't feel like trying to find a new job this close to the end of term.
Ben gave an awkward nod of his head as he put his lanyard back around his neck, fingers carefully adjusting his nametag against his abdomen before he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his denims. "I think there might be some stuff in the back from an old apparel order. I didn't see much when I poked around before Luke took off, but… help yourself to whatever you need."
"Oh, I'll be fine in this." Rey wasn't really the best liar, but she could force a smile when needed. As much as it would suck to work her shift in wet clothing, she couldn't exactly afford to pay for any of the overpriced apparel Luke bought. Thirty-five dollars for a cheaply made foil logo Marvel shirt, or Galaxy Battle sweatpants wasn't exactly in the budget when she made eleven dollars an hour.
"You really won't." Ben replied matter of factly.
"Really it's no big deal. The hoodie will be—"
Ben rolled his eyes as he let out a heavy sigh, and he reached up to move some of fallen strands of black hair off his forehead. "Just go get into something dry, okay? I won't deduct it from your check."
"Well, in that case." Rey's sneakers squeaked as she quickly moved past Ben towards the back room before he could change his mind. After closing the heavy metal door and pushing one of the folding chairs underneath the door handle (since it didn't fucking lock—thanks Luke), Rey made quick work of going through the musty boxes in the back corner.
She was halfway through the second box before she found a pair of sweatpants that were at least close to her size and didn't have writing across the ass. Slipping out of her wet clothes, Rey draped them across the small coiled heater that sat against the back wall, careful to make sure her underwear was hidden beneath the leg of her pants. That way if Ben did happen to come to the back during her shift, he wouldn't see the lovely pair of flamingo print knickers she'd chosen this morning.
Slipping into the black sweatpants, Rey yanked the string waist tight before double knotting it. Picking up the sweatshirt Ben had offered her, Rey quickly slipped it on and almost immediately regretted the decision.
The sweatshirt wasn't the problem. It was nice, warm and cozy. Well worn in, which meant it had a downy layer of fluff on the inside that seemed to wick any remaining moisture away from her skin. No, the problem was the scent of Ben's cologne.
She was immediately taken back to that middle school feeling—the one where the cute boy let the girl borrow his sweatshirt at the skating rink. With her hands still hidden under the long sleeves, Ray gathered the front collar of the hoodie and held it up to her nose so she could deeply inhale the intoxicating scent.
Bergamot, like her favorite tea, with just a hint of citrus that left a small bite.
But there was something else.
Something spicy. Cinnamon maybe?
She let her eyes drift closed as she took in another deep inhalation, letting herself lean back against the stone wall as she lost herself in the scent. Jesus help her. She shouldn't be doing this. Ben was her boss now, and she knew literally nothing about him. What if he was married? She hadn't even bothered to check for a wedding band—something she was normally very good about doing when coming across an attractive man.
He could be married! Hell, he could be a bloody serial killer for all she knew, and she was in the back of his shop pining for a man she knew literally nothing about. All because he was built like a sturdy tree and smelt like sex.
"You find everything okay?"
Ben's call pulled her out of her lust-filled reverie, and she snapped back to reality all at once. A deep blush blossomed across her cheeks as she yanked down the sweatshirt's collar. "Yeah. Be out in a minute!" she croaked before pushing off the cold stone wall.
She needed to get it together.
She had a five-hour shift, and it would do no good to fantasize about her new employer.
Author's Note:
At the behest of my lovely, amazing, fabulous friend, mcal, I dove headfirst into the Reylo world recently. She ushered me to the dark side with lovely fics and ABO smut that has literally stolen hours of my life. It was only fair that I return the favor for her birthday! I stumbled across Skywalker Comics prompt and well... it was meant to be.
Huge thank you to Ravenslight for beta-ing the fuck out of this chapter. You're a literal goddess. and endless thank you to LostInQueue who read this chapter and encouraged me to continue on into this new Reylo adventure.
Lastly, but super not least, Happy Early Birthday to my darling friend, mcal. Enjoy part one, my dear! You wont get the second chapter until your real birthday. 3
until next time. xx
