@kylowithazukoarc
Drabble idea: Modern AU Ben has a motorcycle with that classic helmet of his and Rey is a mechanic. He is stopping by the shop she works out claiming his bike needs repairs.
Thank you so much for the prompt! This one was going to start out all badassy but it ended up just being unbelievably soft! If you requested a drabble from me, I am slowly but surely working my way through the prompts!
You can read the work here on AO3 or under the cut :)
Bad Introductions
Rey had seen her fair share of lowlifes and weirdos during her time at Plutt’s auto shop, but the guy outside of the storeroom window definitely took the cake. Rey had just been getting a part from the backroom when she turned and saw the sun glint off of his black helmet. A very strange, black helmet that looked more like a mask than anything else. Thin red lines ran through it like spiderweb cracks. Rey thought it looked familiar, like she had seen him drive by a couple of times, but she couldn’t be sure. She wasn’t usually one to stare, but the sheer curiosity of who might be hiding underneath said helmet caused her to hold her line of sight longer than was perhaps strictly necessary.
He was tall, that was easy enough to tell as he dismounted his bike and shrugged. Rey could almost see the urge to kick the thing over being suppressed in the tight line of his shoulders and stiffness in his muscles. He was broad, very broad, not unusual for a biker, but the sight of his black leather jacket drawn tight across his back made her stomach flip over. He was wearing all black, in fact—again not unusual for the type. A black band-T and a pair of worn jeans. She could barely make out the tattoos that peaked out from under the cuffs of his jacket and up his neck, but the linework was unmistakably present. Then the man reached up with his hands—his huge hands—to pull the monstrosity of a helmet from his head. The thing couldn’t be road safe, but the man clearly didn’t care. Rey wondered vaguely if he could even see out of the thing—the eye holes practically a slit across the face of the mask.
As he turned, he met her eyes through the window, and Rey gulped audibly. She felt too exposed under his scrutiny in her messy set of buns and blue overalls. Every single grease stain on full display. Finn, who hadn’t noticed her gawking, suddenly looked up from his place at the counter.
“You alright?”
Rey waved him off with a swish of her hand, eyes still locked on the man outside. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that his hair was dark like the rest of him. It made his freckled skin seem even paler than it probably was up close. The rest of his features were equally stark—the sharp line of his jaw, the crook in his long nose. His eyes, however, looked almost amber against the sunlight, like warm honey, and there was a sweetness in them as he stared back at her. They seemed to betray him, really, refusing to match the rest of him. They made him appear almost gentle. And then he turned, no longer in a partial profile so that she could see all of them, and that’s when she noticed the scar.
Her mouth gaped slightly at it—a harsh, angry thing that pushed down his right cheek and disappeared under his collar. The man frowned, squared his jaw, and broke her gaze before pushing his way inside.
“My bike is making a sound,” the man said as he burst in, not once looking at her and instead addressing Finn. There was metal in the edge of his voice, “I need someone to fix it.”
“Right, well do you know what might be wrong with it?” Finn asked, voice even despite the demand.
“Isn’t that your fucking job?” Mr. Tall, Dark and Broody growled back, and Rey’s brows dipped in confusion. He had seemed gentle, almost kind when he had looked at her before, despite all of the dark bravado suggesting otherwise, and now—well now he was being a dick.
“Actually, I just man the counter—” Finn had started, but Rey took a brave step forward, cutting her friend off with a look.
“Actually, it’s my fucking job,” she shot back, “now how can I help you, Mr.—”
“Solo,” the man answered, voice rough, “I need someone to fix my damn bike.”
“Right, just bring it around back and I’ll see what I can do for you,” Rey did her best to plaster on her brightest and fakest customer service smile despite his rudeness. She thought she almost saw his lips twitch up in return, but she was probably mistaken. Rey stood and watched him retrieve his bike from the front before meeting him in the garage.
“Dick,” Finn whispered harshly as she went. Rey stifled a laugh.
“You said it was making a sound?” She asked Solo as he rolled the bike through the open garage door.
“Yeah like a uh—a clanging?” He offered.
“Was that an answer or a question?” Rey shot back, kneeling down to inspect the motor.
“It was a—”
“I’m just screwing with you, Solo,” Rey smiled. She looked up in time to see his face flush slightly. The thought did funny things to her insides.
“Oh, yeah, okay,” he mumbled in return. Now he seemed almost embarrassed, which was a full 180 from his demeanor only a few moments before. He was an enigma, really, a puzzle she just couldn’t figure out.
“Why don’t we start it up, and see how it sounds?” Rey suggested, a little less frustrated with him now and a little more confused.
Solo nodded, swinging one long leg over the bike and revving the engine.
Rey listened for a moment but couldn’t detect any clanging. She looked at the dials—nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She hummed softly as she motioned for the man to turn it off.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it,” Rey informed him, and the man looked at her sheepishly.
“No?”
“Nothing. Whatever sound you heard, it isn’t making that noise now, and there doesn’t seem to be any off readings. I’d say you’re good to go!” Rey told him.
He nodded quietly, before rubbing the back of his neck with an open palm. “Alright then.” He turned to leave.
Rey wasn’t sure what made her speak next, but she found the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them, “Maybe get a new helmet though!” Rey called after him, “that thing looks like a death trap!”
“It was,” the man shrugged, motioning to the side of his face. Rey tried not to flinch at the image that flashed in her mind, “saved my life anyways.” The softness was back in his eyes again, bleeding into his voice as well. “I thought I-a. I thought I caught you staring at it, earlier. It’s kind of a sore spot for me, ya know? I’m sorry if I was an ass. I’d apologize to the guy at the desk but uh, I’d probably find a way to fuck that up too,” he admitted lamely.
“I’m sorry—” Rey started, because it wasn’t wrong, she had been staring, but the man only shook his head.
“I didn’t really—my bike wasn’t really broken. I’ve driven past this place every day for a week to see if you were working. I only today got up the nerve to come inside. I even considered trashing the bike myself just to have a real excuse,” he said quietly. And oh, for all of the tall and dark and broody. For all of the tattoos and scars and black everything, he looked so hopeful now, staring down at her softly but not quite meeting her eyes.
“Why would you do something like that?” Rey breathed, but she already knew the answer.
“I just had to introduce myself to you. Ben,” he said, holding out one of his large, pale hands.
“Rey,” she said in return, wrapping her small fingers around his own.
“That seems to fit, somehow,” Ben smiled, lips twitching upward into a full grin. “Well Rey, would you do me the honor of dinner sometime?”
He didn’t even really have to ask.
