His house is nice inside, all sleek chrome appliances, stone countertops in the kitchen and refurbished wood floors in the hallway. The building is narrow owing to its age but someone clearly did a loving job of updating it to be modern. The living room looks out onto a small but picturesque stand of trees beyond the yard and Rey spies a black-and-red bird feeder strung up in the branches. A cardinal alights and pecks hungrily before something startles it and it's gone in an instant.

He's about to press play when he hesitates and his confession tumbles out of him in a rush.

"So, uh… I don't really do this much? Or I haven't, y'know, done this much recently? I got divorced last year and never really dated a lot before my ex, so… I hope this isn't weird for you. I don't know what the kids do these days."

Rey's hand is frozen above the popcorn bowl and suddenly, things make more sense to her.

"Well," she replies gently, "We don't usually call ourselves 'the kids.'"

His laugh breaks the tension and he replies, "Yeah, okay- that sounded like a fucking old person thing to say, didn't it?!"

"It did," Rey giggles. "And I don't do this much either. At least, not recently."

Kylo relaxes back against the cushions with a nod and starts the film.

The story is by turns absurdist and sentimental, most certainly dated at points, but by the time Clark Griswold finds himself accidentally locked in a freezing attic watching home movies wearing a turban and a bathrobe, Rey is fully invested. She sneaks glances at Kylo at points to find he's so engrossed that he's mouthing the dialogue. Recalling Kylo's comment about his absent father has her wondering if he sees something in this bumbling but well-meaning film father.

As they reach for the last few pieces scattered in the unpopped kernels and salt, their fingers brush in the bowl. His fingers are very warm and Rey doesn't look at him as he gives hers a light squeeze. He shifts beside her and she can see in her peripheral vision that he's studying her. He lets her pull away and she shoves the last handful of popcorn in her mouth, chewing slowly while taking deep breaths to calm her beating heart.

It's the same jolt she felt as when they touched at the clinic, that the electric excitement of unexpected contact.

They stare at the screen again but Rey is pretty sure neither of them is really watching any longer. Her chest is still fluttering and despite her best efforts to concentrate on the conclusion of the Griswold family Christmas, she can't ignore how hyper-aware she is of him next to her. Hopefully the dim light of the living room hides how she's blushing because God help her, he even smells good, like he doesn't use normal laundry detergent but rather something that smells a bit like pine with a note of cinnamon? She wonders if he ate any of the baked goods she brought to his office. There's not a tree anywhere that she can see, so the smell is definitely coming from him and not some holiday decorations.

He lets the credits play until they've reached the song attributions before pausing it. Vader lifts his head at the motion and the jingle of his tags is the only sound.

"Well?" Kylo finally asks. "You feel complete now, right?"

"I didn't even know what I was missing," Rey plays along. "How have I lived until now?"

"I don't know!" Kylo's feigned distress at her ignorance is playful.

A beat passes between them while he rearranges Vader so he can turn to face her fully with his arm slung over the back of the couch.

Rey's heart feels like it's going to beat right out of her chest when she sees his eyes drop to her lips before he makes eye contact again.

"Did you… get everything you want for Christmas?"

She bites her lip as she looks at his mouth. It's hardly the feature of his she's thought most about, but gazing at him now, she's not sure why.

"Not yet," she says and it sounds like her voice is coming from someone else's body. She leans towards him, over the popcorn bowl, her face turned up expectantly. "Maybe Santa got delayed."

Kylo's eyes dip to her mouth again and he leans in too.

"He's just running a little late," he murmurs, so close his lips are brushing hers and then, they're kissing.

Not just a little peck. It's the kind of kiss she's thought about from him: a sloppy, greedy, sucking kind of kiss that seems to go on for hours. Kylo kisses her like he's been stuck in a freezing attic himself and is trying to thaw out.

He breaks away first, panting, and mutters a vulgarity under his breath. He looks almost embarrassed before she cups her hand to his cheek to pull him back. She moves the popcorn bowl to the ottoman to climb astride his lap a minute later, feeling drunk with her boldness.

Once they stop fumbling and get over the nerves that has each of them asking if this is okay, does that feel alright, it's even better than the sex she's been imagining. Way better. For a giant of a man, Kylo is surprisingly gentle and deliberate, his hands dwarfing her as he explores her body. Rey gets a case of giggles that causes him to hesitate, looking at her like he's done something wrong, but she pulls him down to her and kisses it away.

And that is how Rey comes to be naked in her doctor's bed on Christmas Day, their clothes strewn in a trail up his staircase, his dog snoring on the rug, and a tiny black tinsel tree on his dresser lighting the room.