glass-oceans:

@atlinmerrick asked: Has Kylo been in love with or had sex with a woman or women? If not how did he first figure out he’s gay?

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His mother’s diplomatic parties had always been a test of patience, and nothing has changed now. Ben was grateful for the reprieve his mother’s request granted him from Luke’s school, but as he sits now, surrounded by the spoiled younglings his own age instead of having to tolerate their parents questions about his training, he wonders why he thought this would be a good idea.

Ben sits easily in a cross-legged pose that betrays his training just as much as the braid does. The other diplomats younglings are scattered in a loose circle, some passing around a smuggled bottle of booze. Ben has passed on it each time, but now as the empty is set on the floor by an unsteady hand, he finds himself sitting forward.

“I’ll go first,” the hands owner declares, and sets the bottle to spinning. She giggles as the bottle slows, the neck pointing towards a dusky pink Twi’lek sprawled on the floor. The Twi’lek girl rolls her eyes, but doesn’t hesitate in taking the hand offered her, and the two speed across the room, disappearing into a closet. Five minutes tick past on the chrono, the other younglings trying not to watch the door closely, before a dark skinned human gets up from Ben’s right and knocks on the door.

“Time’s up!”

The girls emerge, lip paint smeared and falling against each other in their giggling. Nervous laughs shiver through the group as someone else reaches forward to spin the bottle. More pairs split away, some not waiting for the closet to be freed, opting instead for the couch facing the window, away from the small group.

All the while, Ben watches the others, feels them. He is certain by now that none of them have even the slightest touch of Force use, as no cry has been made about the gentle nudges he uses to make sure the bottle lands on him. When he reaches out to finally spin the coloured glass himself, he keeps hold of it with his mind, allowing it to slow only when it points to the Mirialan sitting opposite him. The boy sits back and smiles as the bottle stills, the tattoo that crosses the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks rises up over his dimples. He takes Ben’s hand as it’s offered it to him and follows him to the closet.

Once inside, Ben hesitates, unsure what to do. The Mirialan’s boy’s smile slid sideways as he let his eyes travel over Ben’s body. Ben felt his cheeks heated under the boy’s gaze and lifted his head, raising his chin defiantly.

“I was right, you haven’t done this before,” the boy says, his smile growing wider.

Ben’s eyes grow wide, and he thinks to stammer out an excuse before the Mirialan steps forward, cupping Ben’s face in his hands.

“Hush, pretty boy,” he whispers against Ben’s lips. “Let me show you.”