Confessions and Best Friends - Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader

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Summary: You and Ben Solo/Kylo Ren are childhood best friends and he finally admits to himself what he's known all along.

A/N: NSFW second part to this one shot is on AO3 under soupremeleader 

When Kylo Ren, formerly your childhood best friend Ben Solo, asked you to join him on the Finalizer, you were hesitant. You were afraid your friend was no longer who he used to be, a quiet and unassuming boy who loved his family and friends and his calligraphy set. When you accepted, you were happy to find that under the tough exterior lived the young boy who still yearned for his best friend - for companionship in such a lonely profession.

Kylo set you up with quarters next to his, a job in the field you had been in at your prior home as a tech, and gave you every luxury you wanted (or as much as was possible while living in space). His only request? That you call him Kylo Ren now and just continue to be his friend. You could live with that, you supposed.

It was a weird adjustment at first but you could tell what a toll his role took on him, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the haunted faraway looks he would sport at times, and were grateful he had reached out to you like old times. This was when you suggested you sleep together just like those old times, taking comfort in those late night cuddles and sweet words to lull him into a better sleep - or at the very least, any sleep at all since it didn't look like he was getting much in the first place. Kylo was eager to accept your proposal, apparently as touch starved and desperate for you as he had been when he was just Ben Solo.

The first night you slept together, your smaller frame tucked into his side with his large arms wrapped around you, Kylo had the best night of sleep he had had in years. When it was time to get up he barely stirred, and it wasn't until you begged to be let go so you could go pee that he finally relinquished his hold on you, albeit with plenty of complaining and sass. As you got up to relieve yourself, you did so with a smile tugging at your lips, laughing at you friend. Nothing had changed, even though everything had.

You relished the days where he had a morning off or no work at all, where he kept you in bed for as long as possible, dead to the world as he softly snored away, his grip on you tight and possessive. In these moments you would wriggle around until you were facing him if you weren't already and took your time taking in his sleeping figure. He looked at ease, peaceful and calm - happy even.

You would take in his full lips, able to appreciate them when they weren't drawn into a hard line or being bitten on from stress. You would count his beauty marks, dotting his face like his own personal constellation - one you were privileged and honored to know. You would take in his messy hair, wavy and long, silky and black.

On rare occasions he would sport a small smile. Those were your favorite mornings, knowing that he was having a pleasant dream instead of his usual nightmares. Sometimes he would hold you so tight during a nightmare that you would struggle to breath, your breath punched out of you at the sudden constricting of his arms. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part were the screams - snippets of whatever was haunting him that night. You longed to shake him out of it, to help him through it, to let him know how loved he was. Sometimes he woke up crying. On those mornings you would cry, too.

You hated when he would go on missions because it meant his sleep quality suffered. There were times when you accompanied him and times when he didn't want you to go because it could be dangerous. On those occasions he would come back looking worse for wear, dismissing you from work with his power as a superior and tugging you into bed so he could catch up on all the sleep he had missed, all the body contact he had been yearning for while away.

Sometimes it was hard for Kylo to fall asleep, even though he had you by his side. On those nights you would pretend to sleep just so you could hear everything he longed to say out loud to you but never had the courage or the opportunity to say. You would feel his thick fingers trace your face, play with your hair, his palm running down your arm or side before landing, warm and heavy, on your hip or waist.

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