Inspired by the song Genghis Khan by Miike Snow, featuring a very jealous Kylo Ren.

Rated M.

"I saw you with Dameron today."

Rey was pulling on her shirt at the foot of the bed. Ren watched from his sated recline against the pillows as her back muscles tensed at his words. They were quickly covered by the linen fabric of her shirt.

"How?" She turned toward him, tossing him his prisoner's uniform, which he pointedly ignored. She huffed and roughly tugged her mussed hair into a high knot on her head.

Stars, she looked good freshly bedded.

"Even prison cells have windows, pet." He jerked his chin over his shoulder at the small, high window behind him.

"You were spying on me?" She was on her feet now, tugging on her leggings in angry jerks. Ren was sorry to see those mile-long legs go.

"It could hardly be called spying if you happen to walk past the one square foot of the outside world I am privy to."

She was reaching for her boots, now. She missed a large section of her hair in the back, and it hung faintly curled with sweat at the nape of her neck. She looked downright obscene in her askew clothes and flushed cheeks. He didn't want her to go.

"It seems a bit more like spying when even a lunk like you would probably have to stand on the bed to see out that window."

Ren was silent for a moment before answering. "I heard your voice. I…wanted to see you. In the daylight."

She didn't answer him and instead plopped down on the floor to tie her laces. He felt suddenly foolish at his ridiculous confession—no matter how true it was—and at Rey's apparent dismissal of it.

"So. Dameron, is it?" he asked, sitting up a little taller in bed. He was bare to the waist, covered only by the crumpled sheets. "A little cliche, don't you think, to bed down with the galaxy's greatest pilot when you're not even through academy?"

"You're a shit," she muttered, angrily switching to the other shoe. "And I'm not in academy. I'm just filling in some holes where the simulators were lacking."

"Point stands."

"Why do you care?"

Ren laced his fingers behind his head, posturing just so in case she decided to finally look at him. "I don't," he lied.

"It sounds like you do." She stood from the floor, sweeping hands over her clothes to try to ease any wrinkles. It wasn't working; she still looked as if she'd been thoroughly fucked.

Something about this—her efforts to hide whatever evidence she could of her time with him, that some other man might know just how alluring she looked after being seen to properly, might have the pleasure of not just fucking her, but finding sleep next to her—twisted like a dagger in his gut. He dropped his hands and got out of the bed, standing as tall as his formidable frame would let him.

"Where do you sleep?" His voice was deeper than he intended, more brittle.

Her attention snapped to him and she flushed. "Put some clothes on."

"Where do you sleep?" he asked again, no less dark.

"You have no right to that information."

He took a step toward her. "I know, but I want it all the same."

Used to him, perhaps, she stood her ground, squared her shoulders. Fuck, he wanted her.

"Why do you care?"

He let his eyes linger on her in a way he hoped made it very evident. He saw the slight flutter of her throat as she tried to discreetly gulp, and stretched a small smile. "You know why."

She did step away from him then, patting her body then searching the floor as if she dropped something. He spotted the security clearance badge before she did and discreetly kicked it under the bed.

She kept searching, growing frustrated. "Actually, I don't. What? Do you want to be my boyfriend?" She stood up then, glaring at him with clenched fists. "Do you want to be my boyfriend who's in prison?"

Ren laughed. "Stars, you're young. Can you hear yourself? 'Boyfriend?' Honestly."

Her eyes were on the floor again as she continued to look for the badge. "Then what do you want?" Her voice was sharp with annoyance.

"I want to know where you sleep!"

She whirled on him. "In my own bed! Alone!" She stalked over to him and jabbed a finger hard in the middle of his chest. "You need a bigger window, you kriffing buckethead. Then you might see that Poe Dameron is with Finn, not with me. Not by a longshot."

Her eyes were sharp on his, her hair almost completely fallen from the knot she had thrown it into. She looked good enough to eat.

He closed his hand around hers that she had planted accusingly on his sternum. "Come back to bed," he growled.

"What?"

He tugged her arm. "I spoke clearly enough."

She paused only a moment, giving his naked body a cursory glance, before tugging her clothes back off. He helped, none too gently, and threw her purposefully back onto the cot. He followed after, kissing her deep into the thin mattress.

"You're mine, Rey," he moaned against her cheek. "I won't share you."

"Shut up," she answered, her breath hitching as he moved above her. "You talk too much."

She kissed him hungrily, urging him with her body. He broke away with a groan.

"I'm—" he rocked into her, his jaw clenched at the too right feel of her. "I'm yours, too," he whispered into her fallen hair. He was too chagrined to look at her as he admitted this, to tell her that even this confession wasn't enough to convey what he felt about her. How much she meant to him, and how he wished he could love her in the daylight, not just in his cell when she decided to abuse her security clearances.

She smiled a smile that he didn't see, and arched into the press of him. Into the only truth of his she believed.

"I know."

End.

I'd love to hear back from you, even with these being short little fictions. Thanks for reading!