It starts with a tickle. A tingling tickle of pressure at the base of her neck, spreading down her spine like a warm and familiar heat only to pool and cool in her gut. It happens every time they meet like this. Each one's presence passing over the void of empty space to enter each other's thoughts and dreams.

She opened her eyes to still silence. Rising from her bed she can hear no sound from the ship around her. No engines, nor wookie stomping about. No droids or porgs chittering or cooing as they nestle their young.

Silence. Complete silence.

Slipping out of her bunk she left her private space, that familial feeling spreading over her body like a blanket not quite thick enough to keep the chill completely off while her bare feet padded silently towards the cockpit.

He's there. Bent over the controls, dressed in the usual black tunic, pants, boots and gloves, running his fingers over various dials and switches with familial ease. She can spot just the hint's breath of a smile on the crook of his lips. "I see you've been running the hyper drive a lot recently."

She doesn't respond, waiting to see where he goes with this. Curious as to where he thinks they've parked for the night.

"You should rotate the inverters soon or you'll end up burning the coils out. Especially the left engine's. It was always the most finicky." His words have a tone of absentmindedness with an aftertaste of bitter resentment. He hates this ship. He knows it. She knows it.

"Why are you here?" Her question is more of a demand, those brown eyes narrowed at his back, watching him carefully. She notes the absence of his usual saber hilt at his side. He's come unarmed for once. Even in the visions they share it's a rarity.

"You're the one who brought me here. I figured you'd tell me." He replied flatly, finally turning to look at her with those empty black eyes. He looks at her, up and down her form still dressed in her usual light clothing. Her usual over coverings are missing, leaving her in just the thin tunic and sand-colored pants of the norm. But she too is unarmed. It just makes that cold pool in her belly turn to ice. She rubs her arms to keep the feeling at bay. They stand like this briefly, just watching each other before he flops himself down in the cockpit.

His father's seat.

Kicking his feet up on the panel's edge in front of him he leans back, weaving his fingers together over his middle in a far too relaxed position, so much of that ebony hair falling in his face. She stepped up to his side, to keep an eye on him but he just looks back at her, as if waiting, daring her to speak.

"I was asleep." She told him simply, staring down at his dark robed form. "This is a dream."

He just shrugs, looking very much like his father in that moment. He lifted a hand to reach for her arm, gently stroking a gloved finger's edge along her wrist. The single touch sending bolts of sensation throughout her body. "I thought we agreed no more dream meetings. They get too…personal."

"You think I wanted this?" She asked, shifting her arm away from his fingers, but the damage is done. The feeling now lingers, rippling over her skin like a pebble dropped in still water, damaging her calm.

"Maybe. To bring me here?" He looked around at the familial cockpit. "Probably your psyche's idea of a punishment for last time."

Her eyes narrowed at him, thinking back to their last meeting. An argument. The same argument they'd been having since this whole thing started. Her tone is short when she speaks. "You kissed me."

"I did." He responded, equally as short.

"And I punched you. In the nose."

"You did." He touched his nose, perhaps unconsciously. "It bled too."

"That should have been punishment enough." It was an honest thought. She knew he could sense her honesty. There were so few secrets between them when they were connected like this.

He reached for her again, this time wrapping a hand around her wrist, lightly, wantingly. She had noticed how much he liked to touch her when they were together. The more they came to meet, the closer he would come to her, invading her personal space. The more he tried to touch her in some fashion. Perhaps that's why he'd done it. Why he'd kissed her in their last meeting. There'd been no warning, no signal. He'd simply moved his head to hers and broken through a barrier she'd never thought he'd cross.

The feeling still moved in her, tied to the memory as he'd towered over her in his own dream, tried to wrap his arms around her to keep her pulled close. The idea had instead backfired and spooked her, causing her to push away from the delicious feeling of his lips warm and solid on her own and react with a solid knock to his nose with her fist. She'd shut herself off from him for a while after that. She'd run away.

But here he was again, rubbing soft circles in the small of her wrist with his thumb, watching his fingers move. He looked up at her, holding her gaze. She could feel it again. That pull. That WANT.

When she tried to remove her hand again he held firm, instead pulling her to sit on his lap, leaned back in the father's seat a bit more to make room for the extra person in such a limited space. Her back pressed to his front, she could feel the heat of his body through his black tunic, through her own tan one radiating all the way to her bones. His hands moved up her arms, one wrapping fingers around her neck ever so lightly; not to strangle as he'd once thought of doing but to turn her head so his breath could move over the skin of her collarbone.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked in a whisper, her eyes fluttering closed as he breathed in her scent, letting him wrap his arms around her like a snake flexing its tight coils. Her own fingers traced over his hands, one taking her wrist again and bringing it to his lips to kiss the hammering pulse beating against such tender flesh.

"Why are you letting me?" He rebuttled. She could see him staring at her face intently out of the corner of her eyes. That same look; wanting, practically begging for her to be with him. A face he gave only to her and only when they were alone like this.

She turned in her seat on his lap to look at him; hold his gaze until the seconds turned to millennia and even the breath in their lungs failed to make a sound. Her voice came out in a whisper. "I don't know."

"I do." He took a hand to the edge of her chin and tipped it up just a fraction, leaning forward to kiss her. It was the same feeling as before. Same electricity shook through her like liquid fire, same clamoring desire. She could see it deep in his mind, the mental images flowing into her of them both naked and moving together. He'd been dreaming of her like that for a while now, she could tell. She could feel the physical desire melting inside to puddle deep between her thighs, making her squirm in his lap. And as much as she hated to admit it; deep, deep down in the darkness that hid in her soul…she wanted it too.

It sang to her a sweet song. His dark always sang to her just as her light spoke sweet nothings to him. A whispered conversation they'd been having since the moment they'd met in the woods not so long ago, yet it felt like ions in the past. Her dark eyes held his own darker ones, their lips finally parting as breath came in and out in heavy gasps.

She was facing him now, knees wedged on either side of his lap in that surprisingly comfortable cockpit seat and she stared into his wanting eyes. Her fingers gripped at his black tunic, knuckles blazing white against such dark fabric while his own pressed firmly on her backside for support.

Could she give in to such temptation?

SHOULD she?

"Rey…"

Her name. It was all he said. It was all he needed to say.

She kissed him, firmly, needingly and that stopped any more words from coming out of his mouth. She pulled at his tunic, reaching down to fumble numbly at his belt while his own nimble fingers tugged her much looser tunic free, letting it give and shift away from her shoulders, down the edges of her arms in a soft caress to expose her small breasts to his view. She watched him stare at them for a brief moment, pulling away to lean back in the chair just taking in the view. And when it came close to the edge of awkwardness he pulled her forward with his strong arms and brought a passionate kiss to her nipple that nearly had her singing.

Her back arched, her eyes closed, and the only sound was a sharp inhale followed by a shaky exhale through parted lips. Why did this feel so good? Why did his touch, being in his arms like this bring such pleasure when every synapse in her brain told her how wrong this was? She should push him away, take a step back. Hell she should run! Fight! But his mouth found her other nipple the warning feel on deaf ears.

Nimble fingers finally pulled his belt loose, practically twitching as they found a growing bulge hiding underneath still trapped behind dark cloth. Air hissed past gritted teeth as her warm palm ran over that apex and he looked up at her, eyebrows narrowing at such a surge of confidence that splashed over her face along with a sultry little smile. He could feel the amusement through their bond along with that tingle of tentativeness. He'd seen her memories of Jakku while she slept, he knew she wasn't inexperienced in the physical sense but still a hint of nervous uneasiness lingered in the back of her eyes. And every time it started to take control he moved his hands, used his mouth, touching just the right about of skin to lull her back into want that equaled his own.

One hand slipped lower to grip at her thigh, the tip of his gloved thumb reaching between her spread legs to press in just the right spot to elect a gasp of surprise from her despite the limiting fabric. He could sense her elation at the jolt of electricity connected to that spot and he moved his finger again, an amused smirk pulling over his face. Despite the pleasure it seemed to wake her up, pull her from him and she tried to lean away but he held fast with a hard palm to her lower back, fingers spread to touch as much of her as possible. "Don't…"

His voice was a beg. She had not heard such tone from him since he'd pleaded for her to join him. They stilled, slipping back into silence as she looked down into those ebony pools. The beast of a man watched her back, raising the hand on her leg to her face, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and holding her face with a gentleness she was unaware of.

"Don't…" He repeated, his voice a breath softer. "Please."

She looked in him, past the monster that came to her in her nightmares, past all the lust for power, the hate for everything she stood for, sinking deeper into his inner thoughts as far as he would let her until she was swimming in darkness. He was there in that darkness, his pale skin seeming to be the only light in the place. He reached for her there just as he did for her now, wanting to wrap himself up in her light and never let it go with a possessiveness she'd seen only once before: in the moment she'd seen pass between Han and Leia the last time they ever spoke. A moment…of love.

It shocked her, pulled her out of that darkness, back into her body as her eyes searched his own. "Do you…do you love me?"

It was a question he wasn't expecting, that much was obvious. It put his senses on alert and his walls started to slam shut again but he hesitated. Looking over her face, he hesitated some more. "I don't know."

An honest answer if there ever was one. The very idea brought out waves of confusion from them both as they sat like that in the falcon's cockpit. Everything felt a mess, a swirl of fear, anger, lust, confusion, want, need, even forgiveness. He looked at her, she looked at him.

"I don't think I could ever love you." She told him, her anger at his actions, his character flashing through him like lashes, leaving hard red welts that stung as deep as any whip. There was too much of him to hate, too much darkness in his soul to ever love the man behind the monster.

His eyes hardened, his expression sinking into its usual cold distain, a familial sigh from months of passing through each other's thoughts like ships in the night. He pulled her closer, until she was flush against his front. He could feel those soft little breast of hers rubbing against the outside of his tunic and the want, the desire, came back like a tide sweeping back in. "I'm not asking you to."

Lips met lips again, his kiss demanding and pushing that wave of lust into her hard until it sat in her belly like a fire, burning, radiating out. He pulled away just a bit to speak. "You know what I want. I know you want it too. So take it already. It's just a dream after all. No one ever has to know."

Her small palms lay flat on his chest, holding her up while his own bigger ones touched at skin wherever they could find it. He was right. He wasn't asking for love. He'd never asked for something so impossible of her. Possession, yes. Lust, that much was obvious from the bulge rubbing against the apex of her thighs, but could she take it? And at what cost to herself? He was offering a simple answer to a simple problem. She felt no resistance of any kind on his part but instead encouragement. It was a dream. No one ever had to know. Could they truly be held responsible for what happens in a dream?

She looked at him. That fire in her belly erupting into an inferno.

Damn the consequences!

Taking each side of his long face in her hands she kissed him, poured his own passion and lust back into him. They melded together like oil and water being sloshed together, moving as one but never quite melding completely. Hands moved in flurries, cloth tore and fell to the ground on either side of the cockpit chair. She pulled his tunic over his head and licked at his neck, nipping her sharp little teeth at his collarbone until red marks started to appear. Gloves came off and warm hands practically wrenched her pants from her skin, fingers dancing over, inching lower, closer until they sunk in deep, just in the right spot and slicked with liquid heat that had he mewling in his arms. Her hips rocked against him in tandem, all but whimpering every time he stilled or slowed. Her brows lowered, nose scrunched in anger when he stopped and pulled away, which amused him greatly. Flicking his thumb over that perfect little nub just right earning him fingernails digging into his shoulders and a soft swear in the language of Jakku. He leaned up and kissed her chin and along her jawline, his voice teasing in her ear. "Such a horny little scavenger you are. If you want me that bad, do it yourself."

Her response came as a hiss through gritted teeth, a primal snarl of frustration and embarrassment. He leaned the chair back until it was nearly flat, watching her naked form sitting on top of him with only a zipper keeping her from her carnal goal. It took but a flip of her wrist to pull him free from such confines, surprisingly practiced fingers stroking at just the right angle to get him fully erect and achingly hard. She looked at him and paused, letting go of her prize to lick her way up his abdomen to his lips, rubbing her body over him like a wiggling, weighted blanket. Her dark hair came to just before his nose, filling it with the scent of soap and sun as she sucked on the crook of his neck hard enough to leave an angry red welt complete with teeth indents. When she was finished she pulled away with a loud pop of suction, making a sight of licking her lips before sitting back up and returning to her "handy" work between his legs. She watched him touch at it lightly, feeling how his own pulse pounded up against the tips of his fingers. He could sense a stand of pride, almost possession coming from her.

She'd left her mark on him for everyone to see.

There were no words, only a gasp when she raised herself up and a sigh as she sank down on him and the rush of blood pulsing in their ears as two hearts beat as one. She moved, slowly at first, holding his eyes with her own as her speed and strength increased. His hands went to her hips, guiding without words. Pleasure moved with them, feelings of want, desire, confusion, love, hate, fury, and every other thing that had ever passed between them rolling back and forth between them like a pendulum. It felt almost like a dance; a carnal dance of fingers and lips, hips and tongues, teeth and claws. Primal and wanting, yet soft and delicate. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, each fitting almost perfectly in his large palms and she arched her back in kind, moaning his name as a flush came over her cheeks.

"Ben…" She whispered. In all the time they'd been connected like this, together despite the cross of time and space, she'd never stopped calling him that. She was the only one who did anymore, and she was the only one he'd let say it. The only voice that mattered anymore. The only person who mattered.

He could feel her pleasure growing, her brink drawing near. He could see it on her face, in her eyes, the way her fingers twitched as they ran over his chest, through the pulse in her palms. He watched her arch and grind over him, panting, covered in a sheen of sweat like some sexual goddess. "Look at me."

She looked down at him, licking her dry lips wet as she moved faster on him. He took her hands in her own, lacing his fingers with her own so the palms flattened against one another to feel her pulse beating against them. She knew what he wanted. He wanted to see it, that moment she peaked because of him, that blink in time when she finally gave in to everything she'd been denying herself since the moment their fingers touched in the hut on Luke's hideaway planet. In that brief moment she tried to resist, hold it back with some strand of dignity but he wouldn't let her.

He sat up, wrapping her up in his embrace and kissing her as if to swallow her alive with his passion, filling her back up with lust; his lust, THEIR lust, and want until everything came to a glorious peak of pleasure. She stilled in his arms, gripping to him as if he was the last lifeline in this or any other galaxy, and whimpered against his lips. He pulled away, just enough to look her in the eyes, to see that moment fill her all the way to her very soul. "Now, you are mine. Now until forever."

He wrapped her up in his arms and kissed away any words she might have had to resist him, letting loose from whatever cage he'd had his own passions hidden in and ground his own pleasure deep into her body. She closed her eyes, melting into his arms as he held the back of her head with one hand, her hips with the other, wrapping her arms around his neck. She tangled her hands in his dark hair, something she'd secretly wanted to do for a long time, and breathed against his lips. "Ben…"

Her voice just made him increase the pace, moving, thrusting, taking all he'd ever wanted and then some while she chanted his name like a mantra over and over. He hated that name, despised that name, but in this instance if acted almost like an aphrodisiac and spurned him on: harder, deeper, until she was almost screaming it. When he finally came he bit her, hard and square on the shoulder, a mirroring mark to the one she'd given him as their spirits melded: light and dark becoming a swirl of grey.

They stayed like that, his mouth finally releasing its seal on her skin to look her in the eyes, feel her heavy breathing blow over her face, his doing the same in kind before kissing each other deeply, almost deep enough to start everything all over again. But she pulled away, looking up into his eyes and pressing her forehead to his. "We can't do this ever again."

He looked down at her, noting how she refused to look at him for the briefest of moments. He knew she was lying. She knew it too, but it was something that had to be said in order to save face. His eyes narrowed and he tipped her chin with his fingers to make her look at him again, naked and vulnerable in his arms in every sense of the word. "I will never love you."

Was it the truth? She couldn't tell as she could feel him closing himself up from her again, closing the doors to her inner self from him as well. The barriers were back up, the truce was over and war for his soul was back on again. She kissed him, one last time, softly and sweetly, before he completely pulled away from her, leaving them standing in that familiar darkness, clothed again and on either side of the void between them. "There's still light in you Ben."

"And there's dark in you Rey." He replied before turning and disappearing into the darkness leaving her alone in their connection. She opened her eyes, this time to the noises of the ship: the hum of an engine, Chewie growling and BB-8 whistling a chat with R2. She watched a porg waddle its way across her bunkroom floor and sat up, startling a squawk from it and a flap of its penguin-like wings. She could see him, in his room on some far away destroyer, cleaning his lightsaber with his back to her. He was shirtless as he liked to be when in his own private quarters, his hair still slightly damp from some recent shower yet his skin marred by angry nail marks. When he turned to grab something she could see the bright red mark on the side of his neck.

Her mark, complete with teeth indents.

He knew she was watching but he refused to acknowledge her, his walls to high up to even hear her should she speak. With a sigh she pushed the image away, rising from her bunk to start the day with a quick look over in the fresher mirror to spot her own mark from him on her shoulder and tucking it under her shirt more carefully to avoid inquiry by prying eyes.

She went to the falcon's cockpit and sat in the main chair, its seat still warm and still smelling like him. Chewie joined her shortly, having launched the ship from their hiding spot and set their course for the nearest resistance base. He sniffed the air and gave her a look but said nothing, much to the wookie's credit, grumbling something about jumping to lightspeed.

"No, not yet." She said simply, flipping the ship off of autopilot and taking the helm. "But we should probably rotate the inverters soon. Otherwise we'll end up burning the coils out. Especially on the left engine. It's seems a bit finicky."

N~N~N~N~N~N

*AN: Saw the Last Jedi on premiere night and this has been rattling around in my head ever since. Hope you enjoy! Mwuahahahahahaha!