So, if you're familiar with my work on regular fanfic dot net, this pairing was first introduced in the fic Small Luxuries.
Tatooine I
Anyone could see that the coming storm would be a force to be reckoned with.
The shutters to Keren's little house had started to shake a few minutes ago, and the sound of howling wind was only exceeded by the rattle of millions of grains of sand that were being flung against the windows. Although it was not yet noon, shops were already closing and through the glass-front door she could see her Anchorhead neighbors rushing to find cover. As she flipped the old-style sign in her shop window so that it said “closed,” the sound of footsteps made her turn.
Ben stood in the threshold that led to her apartment, lifting his dark cloak over his shoulders in the manner that suggested he was about to leave; they'd finished their afternoon tea a few minutes ago, and it was his custom to depart her home afterward.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he glanced up and gave her a warm look. For a split-second she was lost to the particular blue of his eyes, but luckily managed to recover her composure enough to speak. “You're not going out in that, are you?”
At her words, she watched as his gaze fell on the scene outside, but it was a moment longer than it should have been before understanding slipped across his face. Keren bit back her smile as he approached her and peered out the window in the front of her little shop, close enough for her to smell the clean-linen scent of his tunic, mingled with the sweet, minty aroma of the tea they had just shared. “It's not so bad.”
Something about his tone...it was almost nonchalant, as if the idea of walking out into one of Anchorhead's infamous sandstorms was in no way worrisome. Blue-grey eyes turned her way and they were smiling even as his mouth was quiet. Perhaps her own expression was giving away more than she'd intended, for he tilted his head and looked at her as though she were the one making no sense. “What is it?”
“Ben...it's a storm.” She could scarcely believe that she had to explain such a thing; surely he'd lived on Tatooine long enough to know the planet's dangers? “It's horrible out there,” she added, reaching up to close the curtains that were normally wrapped around a metallic bar above the door. “Even if you had a speeder, there's no way that you'd make it all the way to your home, unless you had magical powers or something.”
The words came out haphazardly, and her tone was light, but his reaction was nothing short of bewildered.
“I...” His mouth opened, then snapped shut, and he gave a sigh, his shoulders sinking just a bit.
“Is the idea of staying here so deplorable that you'd rather face a violent sandstorm?” She couldn't resist teasing him, just a little, if only to lift the tension that had mysteriously sprung between them.
It was this way with him, sometimes. In her way, Keren pretended not to notice, but she'd started to discern a pattern.
The first time that his behavior had struck her as odd had been the night he'd returned to her, the first time they'd kissed, actually. Perhaps he'd been too tired from his unnamed adventures to keep his usual guard up. Perhaps he'd been too relieved at returning to Tatooine safely to concern himself with concealing any mannerisms that she might consider unusual. Perhaps in that moment, he simply didn't care....she didn't really know his exact reasons.
He'd returned from that first, long absence. They'd kissed. Some time after, she'd offered him some chamomile tea, as he seemed exhausted to the point of being nervous, almost jittery. He'd accepted. The water boiled, then the tea steeped as they sat across from one another as they had done many, many times before. As she stirred her cup, watching the darkening liquid within, her eyes had lifted to see that he was doing much the same.
Without his hands.
The little spoon within the mug was circling within as of its own accord, while one hand rested on the table and the other toyed with the edges of his beard, his expression light years away. Keren remembered her mouth falling open just a bit before he lifted his hand and caught the spoon as if nothing was amiss.
From that point on she'd noticed other things, none of which alone would make for a viable conclusion: the way that he seemed to sense her thoughts almost before she voiced them; reflexes fast enough to catch a falling bit of merchandise that should have splattered against the floor; an almost unnatural stillness that seemed to surround him upon occasion. Individually, they were not conclusive. Together...
Of course there were parts of his past that he didn't want to discuss at length or in detail. She had them as well. Neither one had ever pressed the other for anything more than they were willing to share, but the more time that she spent in his company, the more she noticed, and the more she began to comprehend.
The comment about “magical powers” had slipped out on its own, and she really hadn't meant anything by it, but nevertheless...there it was. Ben was not foolish, she knew, and in the months that they'd spent beside one another she'd rarely seen him at a loss, but right now he seemed...flummoxed, actually. Searching for the right words.
Finally he frowned at the growing darkness outside and shook his head. “I suppose you're right. It would be foolish for me to travel right now, wouldn't it?”
“Very foolish,” she agreed, reaching for his cloak and smiling as he lifted his arms so that she could slip him out of the heavy garment.
Amused, he lifted a brow at her as she folded his cloak over her arm and gave him a polite smile, indicating the doorway from which he'd just emerged; through there, her little apartment was waiting, softly lit and inviting. “You may as well spend the night here,” she added in a casual voice.
Unexpectedly, he flashed her a broad smile that made her cheeks grow warm. “I suppose I can manage that.”
It would not be the first time he'd stayed the night. In the past, the time spent talking had slipped by with alacrity, leaving them both glancing at her wall-chrono with astonishment at the lateness of the hour, and she'd insisted – much as she had just now – that he slept over. Traveling through the desert at nighttime was almost as dangerous as traveling through a storm, after all, though admittedly she enjoyed his company that little bit longer, even when she was in her room and he was lying on her couch.
The first time he'd spent the night she'd been far too restless to even try and sleep, and had wasted the better part of an hour tossing and turning thinking of his broad shoulders and the way his eyes lingered upon hers. Would he join her in the bed, if she asked?
Could she ask? It was not a strange thought – she was only human, as was he, and she presumed that they each had similar desires – but there was something so difficult about that first step, particularly when things were so...simple, as they were now. Quiet, peaceful...almost perfect. Almost.
As it happened, that first night she'd finally resolved the issue on her own, but she imagined that it was far less satisfying than it would have been if Ben had taken a participatory role. Anyway, Keren was fortunate to be blessed with a vivid imagination.
Now, though, the storm was howling its fury outside and they were alone. It wasn't late and they'd just finished a pot of Cyrodil tea, so neither of them were tired. As she watched him turn to step back through the doorway that led from her shop to her apartment, Keren decided that this time she would be the one to take the first step.
There was something about his quiet smiles – accompanied by the constant revelation of his good humor as evidenced by a glint in his blue eyes – that would not let her be. Like that first night he'd slept over, she just couldn't help herself. Unlike that first night, however, her desire had been steeping for far too long, and she didn't think she could wait any longer to imbibe.
“In that case, would you like some more-” His words were cut off by her mouth on his; for the briefest instant he froze beneath her, and she wondered if she'd been wrong. However...
The cloak fell to the floor because her fingers were twining themselves in his hair, lightly pulling him down to her; meanwhile, Ben's hands were at her waist, pressing against her button-front shirt with an eagerness that sent a shot of relief through her, followed by swift desire. The hairs of his beard tickled a little bit, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation in the least, rather a tangible reiteration that yes, Ben was kissing her back, and with quite a bit more vigor than she'd experienced from him before. It was mildly disorienting – in a fantastic, heady kind of way – and in the back of her mind she wondered if he'd been waiting for her to initiate this step to the next level.
Even as she could hear the shop windows rattling with the wind, a soft murmur of approval escaped him, and she deepened the kiss, pushing herself close, closer...
Suddenly he pulled back and gave her a look of mock-dismay. “So no tea, then?”
“No tea.” Keren smiled as she shook her head. “But I know something better.”
In response, he smiled back and lowered his mouth to hers once more. Breathing was nearly impossible, not that she minded at the moment, but she was starting to grow a little lightheaded, and the urge to strip him of his tunic was also rather overwhelming. As if sensing her thoughts – he did do that quite a bit, didn't he? – Ben paused and indicated the doorway that led from the shop to her apartment.
When he spoke, his voice wasn't nearly as breathless as she would have expected. “Shall we take this elsewhere?”
She didn't need to look
elsewhere, as a specific desire had been seeded in her mind from the first moment he'd walked through the door months and months ago; it had continued as they'd spoken from opposite sides of her humble little shop counter, before which they stood at the present moment. “Not now...I have another idea.”
As she spoke, she stepped backward toward said counter, tugging at his tunic as she did so. Keren noted with satisfaction that he slipped out of the garment without any hesitation right before he reached for her again; his desire for her was clear when his fingers toyed with the patch of skin at the back of her neck, just below her hairline. Eyes of blue fire skimmed across her face and body, and he smiled again, in that way that made her breath grow shorter.
Ben's chest was the perfect mixture of muscles and lean, strong planes – evidence of a lifetime of activity that lent further credence to her theory – and Keren took a moment to appreciate the sight before tilting her head up to kiss him again. She thought that he sensed her delight, for his hands lifted to cup her cheeks and she felt his mouth moving into a smile beneath hers.
Outside the storm was full upon them, but within...well, this had been a long time coming.
Although she'd seen him move impossibly fast, in this moment Ben seemed to stretch out time itself as he ran one of his hands through her unbound hair while the other slipped down to her stomach, working at the tiny, pearl-colored buttons at the front of her shirt with dexterity. His hand in her hair was strong, supple, and it drew her closer to his lips though he did not kiss her right away, just exhaled softly as he worked, leaving a warm whisper of breath against her mouth. Keren debated making another quip, but that thought was pushed from her mind when she felt the brush of cool air against her chest, as he'd freed her of her own clothing while her attention had been engaged elsewhere.
It was his turn to regard her, and in truth Keren was grateful for the opportunity to catch her breath as she slipped out of her undergarment. “Are you alright?” he asked in a teasing voice as he rested his hands at her waist. “You seem a little...flustered for some reason.”
Even as he spoke his stormy blue eyes gleamed with barely-concealed mischief, and she felt a shiver run across her skin. “I've been better,” she managed to say, looking up at him and thinking about all the things she wanted him to do.
Ben tilted his head to hers, their lips only a breath apart, and his fingers slipped from her waist, lower, to reach her seat. “Past tense?”
“Do you remember when you kissed me?”
His grip was strong, certain, and she felt herself being lifted up even as he replied. “You mean thirty seconds ago?”
Beneath her the counter-top was cool through the the thin skirt that she wore, and she hardly had time to note that he'd managed to pick up on her thoughts so quickly because Ben had pulled her towards him, towards the edge, then had taken to skimming his fingertips over her nipples; at first his touch was soft enough to make her sigh, though the gentle sensation was soon followed with a few light pinches that turned the sigh into a gasp. As he did so, she felt him lean closer so that she could discern that she was not the only one who was aroused.
The realization made her blink out of her haze just a little, and she cleared her throat as she looked at him, noting how they were eye-level with one another even seated as she was on the counter-top. As she tried to catch her breath, she remembered that he'd asked her a question. It took her a fumbling moment to form a response. “Yes, that. The kiss...do it again.”
In response, he let out a chuckle and reached one hand to twine in the hair at the back of her neck even as the other continued to caress her breasts. As he did so, she moved her hands to his broad shoulders, pulling herself as close to him as she could, because desire was building up inside of her, so strong that she thought she would shatter into a thousand pieces if it was left unfulfilled much longer. Ben kissed her, just as she'd requested. She managed to whisper his name when they came up for air, and he hers, his polished accent sounding a bit hoarse.
Moments later his hands dropped to her waist once more. Following that, he held her gaze as he pushed the skirt up out of the way, silently urging her to lift her hips so that he could maneuver her underwear down her ankles; he paused one final time to shed the remainder of his clothing, then he was kissing her again. One hand cupped her cheek while the other slipped lower, to her core, as if he was assessing her readiness for him. She wanted to tell him not to bother, but words just wouldn't come to her throat, so she only gripped his hips and met his eyes with intention, willing him to understand.
Understand he must have, for he gave a faint smile of satisfaction before he slid himself inside of her.
Ben filled her completely, and she gave an involuntary cry of pleasure at the initial burst of sensation, and another when he began to move inside of her; she reached around his neck as if to bring him even closer. His hands had found their way to the small of her back and he seemed intent on the closeness as much as she, though after a few moments she felt his right hand slide around to her core; even as he drove himself into her, he sought out her clit and began to caress the small bead of flesh.
As he thrust inside of her, Ben continued to work her over, somehow managing to coordinate both movements with precision, and even though Keren had no idea how long she was going to last, she decided to enjoy every moment of the experience while she could. Eventually she managed to gasp his name, which was when he pulled back and reached for her cheek with his free hand. He pulled their foreheads together and held her eyes with his even as he pleasured her, and that was when...
Nothing in her past experiences could have prepared her for the sensation. While Ben kept their gazes locked she began to feel the orgasm building within her, but it was...different. It was not something that she had to think about in any way, as she had with every other lover; it was as if, by virtue of
looking at her – among other things – he was willing her pleasure to peak by the power of his own intent. It would have been strange, but she was too overcome with sensation to care much at the moment.
She wanted to cry out again. She wanted at least to utter his name and let him know the effect he was having, but she was literally incapable of making any sound at all besides incoherent gasps.
It was upon her, now. Keren's hands gripped the corded muscles of his shoulders and her head fell back as she felt the waves of the climax consume her, pushing out every extraneous thought. Now, even the gasps were taken from her, as she had no breath to speak of, and her brain had shuttered out everything but the pleasure he was bringing upon her.
As she came, she realized that he was as well, for his movements had become erratic and his voice lifted into a groan of release. For a few heartbeats they each appeared to be lost to their orgasms, until finally his pace slowed and he pulled her face back to his, kissing her forehead with tenderness even as he continued to move inside of her.
After that, she
knew he was a Jedi. Perhaps she'd realized it a long time ago, but the little things added up, and the...whatever it was he'd just done to her, that was
not something an ordinary person could manage, no matter how skilled.
However, other than acknowledge how lucky she was, Keren didn't think much about the realization past its inception, as he'd found her mouth with his own again even while he ground his hips against hers. As if proving her realization correct, he was still hard even after their exertions, but when he kissed her all other thoughts but desire faded from her mind. When they came up for air, he gave her a rather satisfied grin before pulling her to his chest in a quiet, tender gesture; after this, his hands crept around to the small of her back, while in turn she embraced his neck and inhaled the scent of his skin. Their bodies were still joined.
“It's still storming,” he said in an offhand way. She noted that his voice had returned to its normal smoothness, and he seemed to have caught his breath suspiciously quickly, again confirming what she now knew.
Behind her, she could hear through the shop-door that the wind had died, but it was only a little. Sandstorms on Tatooine were deceptive in many ways, often dissipating just long enough to lure unwary travelers back on the roads, then picking back up with renewed vigor. Keren cleared her throat and tried to keep her reply from sounding too breathless. “I'm afraid it is.”
“What was it that you said?” The offhand tone of his voice was belied by the blue intensity of his gaze.
“When? Just now?”
Ben chuckled and gave an almost lazy thrust inside of her. “No. Before we started...
this, you said 'yes,' followed by some other charming thing that I've unfortunately forgotten.”
“Oh,” she laughed, though the noise turned into a gasp with his movements, idly thinking that all those silly HoloNet stories about the Jedi being celibate were either way off the mark, or there was more to the Force than she'd ever reckoned. “I believe it was 'do it again.'”
“Well, if you insist,” he replied, then lifted her up off of the counter and proceeded to carry her into her apartment.
As he did, Keren decided that the Force – whatever it may be – was most definitely with him.
This is dedicated to my amazing, wonderful beta: SerendipityAEY. I heart you. :D
