“i’m really drunk, please help me get safely out of the way so i don’t ruin my friends wedding.” REYLO
He feels a tight squeeze around his bicep. Then the other one.
“The fuck,” he mutters, looking down to meet bright, hazel eyes that are pointedly not focused on him. Or anything, really.
“Hey hey,” she says, freckled face flushed red and god is she hammered. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look very strong.”
He stares down at The Squeezer. Her hair, likely once done up in an elaborate up-do, has been unwound into some kind of three-bun look. Her dress is standard Bridesmaid in a light green. She’s pretty.
The Squeezer leans forward, flexing her own arms which, sure enough, are also well-defined. “I’m quite strong too, and normally I would take myself out of all this but…” she sighs, leaning against him, mainly he thinks, because she is aiming for the table he is next to. “You know how pilots are.”
“Pilots,” he states dryly. He is regretting his decision to be sober tonight already.
“Bugger them,” she mutters. “And especially bugger Poe Dameron.” She pulls on the inside of his jacket, bringing his face down to hers and he might give an audible swallow at their closeness even though her breath smells like a tequila bottle. “Four shots he bought me, can you believe it?”
“Yes,” he says automatically, because he does know the man.
“Anyways,” The Squeezer continues, swaying forward and their foreheads connect with a little too hard of a ‘bonk’ but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t nice. “I need a ride out of here.”
His ears burn. “Excuse me.”
Her eyes widen and she laughs and it is so damn loud he’s going to go bury himself in whatever she didn’t drink in the bar. “No, not a- not a ride, ride.” She goes to whisper in his ear and who is this. “I need to escape my speech.”
His brows go down. He enunciates Very Carefully. “What. Are you talking about.”
“That…that thing. Maid of honor!” She pulls away and he kind of misses that rancid tequila smell and what is wrong with him. “I took a courage shot because I was nervous about it. And then I thought I might cry, so I took another. And then Poe bought me five and I just love Finn so much, you know? But not in a Julia Roberts sort of way, just in a– fuck, what’s the word?”
“Friend?” He suggests dryly.
“YES, that’s it, exactly!” She grabs hold of his arm, leans her body flush against his and from across the reception hall he sees his father sending them a highly amused smirk. “So I can’t give this speech, or I’m going to ruin his wedding.” She gasps. “And Rose’s wedding, too!”
“So you want me to give you a ride.”
“Please. Not the ride-ride. Just. In a car, or something. I can’t drive right now–or ever, after that speeding ticket.”
Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. Counts to 10, gets to five. “I’ll sit outside and wait for you to get a cab.”
The Squeezer looks at him and smiles like millions of suns and he is definitely red at the ears. “Perfect!”
–
They sit, and determine there’s no cabs, Ubers, or Lyfts. So they wait for the bus. Once it pulls up, he decides in good conscience that he can’t trust her to navigate her stops by herself, and so he hops on with her. It’s full, so they sit close to each other in the back row.
Suddenly, she snorts. “This is like that movie.”
“The Graduate?” He offers.
“That’s right. Running off with the bride.”
“You’re not the bride.”
“Well, neither are you.”
He looks up, sees a ton of used gum on the ceiling, and immediately looks back down. He’s all folded limbs and awkward angles, too big for the seating. Squeezer, however, has no problem with the cramped proximity. She’s curled up along his side, her cheek resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t mind. A ton.
“What’s your name, even?”
“Rey. With an E, not like the sunglasses. You?”
“Ben.” And because he feels the need to match. “…like the clock.”
“Is that a British crack?”
“No.”
“Sure sounds like one.”
“Where’s your stop?”
“Oh, shit! Um. There!” She pulls down on the request for a stop cable, then leans over. “You’re a lifesaver, thank you.” And before he can protest or react otherwise, she presses her lips to his forehead.
And then she’s gone with an over enthusiastic swing off the bus and Ben is stuck rubbing where she kissed like something hit him. Struck, he watches passively as Rey hops up some steps and fiddles with some keys before she slides into a modest apartment building.
The bus lurches forward.
And Ben has no idea what’s happened, but he’s pretty sure he wants to get her phone number from Dameron.