Rays of white light pierced the windows on the ceiling, stirring you from your sleep. Following a period of half-dazed urging, your eyelids peeled open as you rolled onto your stomach. The mattress was empty. Cold.

You wondered if waking up in Kylo Ren's bed alone would become a habit. In fact, you were surprised he'd left you alone again to begin with--but you guessed it hadn't been trust so much as necessity. It was clear, in any case, that his quarters on Starkiller were pure function and little frill. This time, you had nothing to snoop through. You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or relieved.

After checking your datapad--just enough time to get to work early--you changed into the spare uniform you'd brought. Then you checked to make sure the cover-up you'd applied the night before was still on your "love-marks" (it was) and crept out of his quarters, bag in tow. You were thankful that the superior officer you'd entered a bizarre sexual relationship with was so high-ranking that his quarters were practically secluded. For the first half of your walk to the docking bay, the only thing you encountered was stunning silence.

When you arrived at your post, you stowed your bag by your terminal and got straight to work. If you were lucky, you'd avoid talking to anyone all day and get some time to process what you were doing with your life. Between your whatever-it-was with Sam and your what-the-actual-fuck-is-this with Kylo Ren, you were kind of screwed--literally and figuratively. You liked Sam--a lot, really, more than a lot--but he was so... good. It seemed blasphemous to pursue a relationship with him after fucking (regularly) the Commander of the First Order.

Complicating that, you weren't sure if you would be able to end your relationship with that very Commander. Would he even allow it? And another, better question was lingering in the pit of your mind, its existence frequently unacknowledged. Would you even want to?

A familiar voice snipped your reverie short. "Morning, stranger."

You squeaked, but a warm hand on your shoulder consoled you. It was just Sam. "Hey there," you said, hoping your pink cheeks didn't give away your most recent train of thought. "What, uh, what brings you here? I know you have areas to check that aren't mine."

He was frowning. "Where'd you go yesterday?" he asked. "You disappeared on me."

"Oh," you said, "just had to take care of something." You left out that the 'something' was Kylo Ren's dick. "Sorry."

"So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?" he said, folding his arms as he leaned against the terminal.

You chewed your cheeks. "Well, like I said, it was about you and me. And I was just feeling... I don't know."

Concern crossed his face. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Despite your overwhelming inclination to mention Minks' affinity for him, you figured it'd be in bad taste to speak for her. You stared at your fingers while you fiddled with them. There was something embarrassing about admitting your jealousy. "You just seemed to be really, uh, hitting it off with Minks, I guess. I felt a little neglected."

Sam's jaw dropped. "Is that all?" he said. He took your shoulders in his hands, forcing you to look at him. Those blue eyes were stark, honest. "I told you before you left that my feelings hadn't changed. I meant it."

You blushed harder. Now you looked like an insecure weirdo (and, in the back of your mind, you figured you had no right to be, anyway). "Right. I know. I just. I don't know."

He considered you for a moment, rolling something over in his head. "Come here," he said, taking your hand.

"Sam, I--"

"Come on," he said. He was guiding you behind the flat panel of a TIE fighter wing, into the black shadow it cast over the wall. Here, you merged with the darkness, becoming ghosts to the rest of the bay.

Goosebumps popped as the hair on your arms went stick-straight. Your gaze darted between him and the floor, a sheepish smile fighting its way onto your face. "Sam, what... what are you doing?"

He didn't respond--just smirked, tucking a hand behind the small of your back while he pulled you close, his lips meeting yours as his other hand fed into your hair. You'd forgotten how soft, how pliant those lips were, how perfectly they fit on your own. An elated warmth engulfed you, and your hands found his hips while your tongue found his mouth. He grunted into you, sending a thrill straight up your spine, and then you were stepping backwards, the two of you moving in unison until your ass hit the wall.

You moaned, and the hand in your hair pressed you into him, your tongues working together between his mouth and yours. Everything about him was so warm, even his desire, which flowed from him with passionate affection, rather than the furious desperation you'd grown to know (and, on some level, love). The fingers you'd hooked into his hips tugged them forward, and--perhaps to the surprise of you both--the evidence of his arousal was hard against your thigh. Sam broke the kiss, gasping your name at the connection.

Tempering your curiosity regarding his package, you swallowed. "Holy shit," was all you could say.

His face was ruby red, and he shrugged--not necessarily embarrassed. "Thought that might help convince you."

"Uh, yeah," you said, blinking while you smirked. "Yeah, I'd say you got me, there." You were resisting the urge to slide your hand down his pants and jerk him on the spot--good thing he couldn't read your thoughts.

The clock continued to count down the minutes to shift-break while you two stood in the shade of the TIE fighter, staring at each other, the unspoken yearning for more privacy and more time heavy between you.

"Well," Sam said, breaking the silence that hadn't yet become uncomfortable. "You should probably head back, but I'll... I'll stay here. For a second."

You bit back a laugh. "Is there a problem, Foster?" you said, glancing at his still-noticeable erection. "Too lazy to get back to work, or something?"

"Very funny," he said, frowning. "I'll see you after shift-change. Okay?"

"Got it, Chief," you said, winking.

Walking back to your terminal, you flapped your hands like tiny wings, a squeal of joy welling in the back of your throat. Sam really did like you. He liked you and wanted you and he'd kissed you and you'd even felt him, and so what was stopping you from just making things offi--well. As you turned and spotted the Command Shuttle, your excitement was doused by a cold bucket of reality.

There was a reason you hadn't made things official, yet. And that reason had shoved his dick halfway to your stomach only a few hours ago. And you'd just used the same tongue that'd tasted his cum to kiss Sam.

"Dammit," you mumbled to yourself.

How long could you continue on with this game? By continuing to hook up with Sam, you weren't just stringing him along some wire with an unknown destination.You were also, you feared, putting his life in danger. If Kylo Ren discovered what you'd just done--what you still wantedto do--you wouldn't put it past him to make Sam a necessary casualty of his rage. Yet you couldn't stand the thought of breaking Sam's heart, or of putting your friendship in danger, either.

It didn't seem fair. There was no future with Kylo Ren--and despite his bizarre, unpredictable moments of tenderness, you sincerely doubted he'd think twice about disposing of you were it necessary. Sam, on the other hand... Not that you wanted to seem obsessive or creepy, but youcould see a future with him, a real potential between you. So the fact that you were on the cusp of ruining it just because Kylo Ren wanted to fuck you of all people... no, it wasn't fair, at all. Resigning yourself to despair, you got on with your orders.

At the end of the work day, you spotted Minks, wiping her hands clean as she left her assignment. Your heart flipped. Trying to keep all of this a secret was only making things worse. If not anything else, you needed to tell her about Sam.

"Minks!" you called. If you weren't sure she was human, you would have sworn you saw her ears perk in attention.

"Hello!" she said, waving. "I was just heading to the mess hall. You wanna come?"

You nodded. "Yeah, sure, sure," you said, sidling up to her. "Hey, look. I gotta tell you something--"

She gasped, looking past you. "Sam!" she said, getting on the tips of her toes and flinging her arm high into the air as she waved. "Sam! We were just going to dinner! You coming?"

Dammit, Minks. Guess that conversation was for another time. Yet again.

"Yeah, sure!" you heard him say.

You spun to face him, grinning. "We're getting to eat with the boss, tonight?" you said. "What an honor!"

Sam rolled his eyes, pinching your shoulder when he caught up to you and Minks. "Yeah, this will be a part of your performance review, too," he said, winking.

Minks giggled--you could almost feel her cheeks turning red. "Hope I can remember the etiquette lessons from school!"

"There's only so many ways you can hold a utensil," you said with a laugh.

Despite your inner-tension, there was something comforting about arriving to the cafeteria together. The three of you, joking, smiling--a talented, well-oiled crew of engineers. You'd never been one to join clubs or seek out cliques, but this was one group you found yourself taking pride in. After locating something edible, you all plopped down at a table--together, casually, for the first time.

You spoke after taking a bite. "How'd your second day go, Minks?" you asked.

She nodded, swallowing her own food. "Just fantastic!" she said. "I'm just... I'm so happy and lucky to be working on Starkiller. I can't thank you enough for believing in me enough to ask me over here."

"Oh," you said, unsure how to reply to her comment. "You're, uh--you're welcome. It's not like you didn't deserve it." You shrugged.

"Always so modest," Sam said, nudging you. He looked to Minks, grinning. "This one's always known what she's talking about."

"Oh, I know," Minks said. "I got to watch her work on the Command Shuttle a few times."

"Pretty impressive, huh?" he said, winking at you.

A red fire burned your cheeks. You found yourself wanting to sink deep into the ground, or perhaps fall into the core and be eaten by the thermal oscillator. "Okay, okay," you said. "Enough, guys. Change of subject." You popped another bite between your teeth.

Minks smiled, nodding. "That reminds me," she said.

In all honesty, it was your mistake. You should have listened to the black web crawling over your heart when she spoke. You should have shouted, jumped on the table, thrown something--anything to shut her up. You should have, rather than watching the verbal collision, intervened at any cost. But you didn't. Instead, you were paralyzed, mouth full of tasteless mush, helpless to stop her blundering ignorance.

"How's it going with that guy on the Finalizer?" came her words. They were knives, stabbing any camaraderie to a bloody, screaming death.

Next to you, you felt Sam's body stiffen, his utensil suspended mid-bite, eyes boring through the plate in front of him. Watching him, your heart burst through your ribcage and into the stratosphere. Words still wouldn't come to you. His head rose as if someone was cranking it up with a creaky wheel, sky-blue eyes unblinking.

"What guy?" he said, turning to you. If your heart hadn't already ascended to space, you were sure it would have stopped, frozen by the ice in his gaze.

You were fumbling with your words, face and neck hotter than the sun. "Uh--uh, there's... there's no--"

"There's that modesty again!" Minks said, grinning. She seemed to believe she was doing you a favor. "You know, the guy that you were hooking up with. He invited you over!"

"Yeah, you know," Sam said, brow furrowing. "That guy."

For once, you wished Kylo Ren was in arm's distance so you could grab his lightsaber, shove it down your throat, and turn it on. "Uh," you said. "Uh..."

"Got it," Sam said, standing up with his food. "I gotta go. I'll see both of you tomorrow." He stalked off, barely stopping to toss what was left of his meal in the garbage.

"Sam," you said. "Sam, wait!"

Your mouth was like sand, eyes tracking Sam as he disappeared through the mess hall door. The heat in your body had been replaced with a terrible, guilty, cold. Minks blinked, face twisted in confusion.

"What was that about?" she asked.

With all of the self-control you could muster, you glanced at her, reminding yourself that you'd been the one to orchestrate this mess. "Do you remember when I said there was another guy that I liked? You know, the great, sweet, nice one? Who also was hooking up with me?"

The realization hit her like a shot from a cannon. "Oh," she said, face falling in horror. "Oh, Gods, no, I'm so sorry--"

"It's fine," you said, standing. "I gotta... I gotta fix this. Clean up for me. Thanks!"

Before she could respond, you bolted, turning and spying Sam heading down another hallway. Your feet were quick in pursuit, pulse pounding in your temple.

"Sam!" you shouted through your breath. "Sam, please, wait!"

He wasn't stopping, but didn't run from you, either. You caught up to him, grasping at his shoulder, whirling him by his shirt to meet you. His face was red, his fingers rolling in and out of fists. But this anger didn't scare you. In his expression, it was plain, written in Basic with bold letters. He was hurt.

"What is it?" he asked, crossing his arms.

At first, you weren't sure how to respond. Part of you wanted to just apologize and walk away--this is what you deserved, after all. But the idea of losing Sam--his friendship, his affection, the potential between you--was so devastating that you rejected it immediately. You had to salvage this, somehow. You'd figure out the rest later.

"That guy," you said, wrapping your fingers around Sam's arm. "He means nothing to me. It was a mistake." Not necessarily lies.

He narrowed his eyes. "You should have just told me."

"I was afraid," you said. "I didn't know what you'd say, what you'd think. I didn't want to hurt you. I like you. A lot." Distantly, you were aware your words were a shovel, digging deeper and deeper toward the center of the planet.

Sam was silent for a moment, looking from you to the floor. "I like you, too," he said.

"Please, forgive me," you said, taking his hand in yours. There was no acting required for any of this. You were desperate for his pardon. "I screwed up. But you're the one who matters to me. I'm so sorry for hurting you, Sam."

He swallowed, the muscles in his jaw loosening. "It's--you're okay." Sweaty fingers squeezed your hand back. "I forgive you."

His touch was re-igniting the longing from earlier this morning--the longing that had wished so openly for another time, another place. And its wish was in danger of being granted.

Without thinking another word, you pressed into him, your lips crashing onto his mouth, kissing him with enough force that he tumbled back into the hallway wall. Shocked--but not offended--he returned the kiss with gusto, hands sliding up your back and through your hair while his tongue moved into your mouth. You groaned, grinding up onto his hips, shivering when you felt him grow hard against you. This kiss was different than the ones before--it was sloppy, almost angry. Sam's hands fell from your head to your shoulders, and he spun, pinning you to the wall, his arousal more apparent than ever.

It started as a breathless suggestion. "Come back to my room," you murmured.

Yet, before there could be a moment for consideration, he'd already taken your hand, pushing you in front of him as a shield as you both scurried toward your quarters. Upon arriving, you floundered with the opening to the hatch, mind so caught in a flurry of desire that you failed to remember the last man you let into your room.

As the door closed behind you, Sam had your back against the wall again, mouth hungry for yours, hips rolling into you. With every movement, you felt his length digging into you, more and more urgent each time. Anxiety balled in your chest, and you pulled away from the kiss, gasping, lips and face tingling.

"Sam," you said, "are you--are you sure--"

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Never been more sure about anything."

Blood rushed your face. "Oh, uh--wow."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh, uh, yeah." He winked and pushed his lips onto yours again, sucking in a breath through his nose as he pulled you close.

You both kicked off your shoes while you began fidgeting at his uniform, working through each button and clasp with shaking digits. Sam kept his mouth on yours, and after you peeled open his uniform top, he was quick to shrug it off, then moving to help you with your own shirt. You'd never been more grateful for the existence of cover-up. In a blink, your skin was on his--without his top, he was warm, smooth, and his lithe, muscled frame looked better than you had imagined. His hands were greedy, sliding over every inch of your exposed flesh--but so were yours, fingers skating over his chest, thumbs scraping over his nipples, earning a moan into your mouth.

Excitement grew between your thighs, and you reached behind you to pop the hooks on your bra, slinging it across the room before your hands resumed their place on his face. You stumbled into him as you both collapsed onto your bed, finally breaking the kiss. Sam rolled on top of you, and his hands found your breasts, kneading them one a time while your hands moved toward the clasps on his pants.

You were dizzy with infatuation, your lust-addled brain failing to take time to consider the situation, failing to take time to remember where you were supposed to be at that moment. For you, the only important things were Sam's lips, the heat of his body, the flicking of his fingers on your peaking nipples, the patient, aching length between his legs. If asked to count, you don't think you'd be able to deliver an accurate answer as to how many times you'd imagined this exact scenario. But even all of your pain-staking fantasy detail failed to capture the reality of the blush on his cheeks, the taste of his skin, the way his blue eyes were swallowed by his pupils.

Sam leaned in to kiss you again, and before you could stop it, instinct took over, and you were biting his bottom lip, digits pulling at his blonde curls.

"Ah!" he said, shifting away. He gave you a lopsided smile. "Jeez, warn me before you go all predator on me."

You blushed--however briefly, you'd forgotten who you were kissing. An unwanted thought you pushed away. "Sorry," you said, biting your own lip. "You know me. I get a little into it."

"Don't apologize," Sam said. "I like it." His lips were back on yours, his tongue back in your mouth.

The hands you had on his pants were yanking in earnest now, and he reached down to help, shucking the shell of his lower torso down to his ankles. The sight of his member--red, needy--had you slipping your own pants and panties over your feet, your cunt throbbing to have him. Seeing your exposed mound, his hand swiped over your clit, and you squirmed underneath him, whimpering.

"Fuck," you said, pulling away to catch a breath. "I need you."