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PROMPT POST #2 - CLOSED

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prompt post one

+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
+ You can request both kink and non-kink content
+ Crossovers, characters from the other media are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 movie in some way.
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+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
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+ Warn for common triggers, please
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+ reposting prompts is currently not allowed.
+ no prompts based on real life tragic events. e.g: 9/11 au, concentration camp au, etc
+ PLAY NICE

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Poe debates the sleeping aid back in his quarters. It’s not supposed to be taken with alcohol (neither is the Symoxin but there’s no question there -- he jams the hypo into his leg as soon as he gets in his room). He feels exhausted, achy, and figures maybe sleep will find him anyway.

He looks tired in the ‘fresher mirror, and he wonders if he’ll ever catch up on his sleep. Probably not until the war ends. If it ends.

Poe falls asleep.

He dreams.

The hangar bay is full, but Poe isn’t by his X-Wing. The concrete is hard under his knees, pebbles digging into his patellae. But he can’t move -- his body is stuck, paralyzed like that. Someone pries his mouth open but he can’t tell who -- everyone’s in Resistance flightsuits but their faces are indistinct, there but not there.

“You were made for this, pretty boy,” says a voice, a rich purr.

“Born for it,” says another, mechanically distorted. Someone grabs a handful of his hair and there’s one face he can see, Finn, who looks clear, looks like something Poe can’t quite make out. He’s fighting, moving toward him but never getting closer.

The hangar melts into the base, everything else tipping until he’s still on his knees but it’s Finn with his hand in his hair, and he’s laughing. His hands are gentle when he tugs at Poe’s curls.

“I can’t believe you like this,” he’s saying, and Poe is aroused, wants to make Finn feel good, wants to be good for Finn.

“That’s sick,” someone says above him, but it’s not Finn, and it’s not a pirate either.

“You must have liked it,” is whispered in his ear, someone he knows but can’t place, maybe, but then he’s choking and the dream shakes again, the logic spilling him somewhere else.

His back hurts and he’s in a ship. It’s the same X-Wing he always flies in dreams -- not quite his mother’s but not quite his either. He knows it though, realizes he’s asleep and no one is calling him a slut or touching his hair or touching him at all. No one will, no one can be there but him.

The console feels good under his hands, warm, and the thrumming is familiar. He looks down at himself and he’s speared thru the chest, that sweet spot in his shoulder so a lung isn’t punctured.

There’s nothing in an X-Wing that could do this but he’s stuck, and the blood starts spilling over his chest when he notices it. The metal in him moves and he tries to scream but the air is caught in his throat. It’s spreading, liquefying into his bloodstream. The metal jutting from his chest bends, too, elongating and curling around his waist, pulling him further into the seat.

“I need you,” someone says to him. “You have to fly.”

-

Dr.Kalonia sends him an irate message that blinks on his datapad all through his early breakfast of some kind of grain. Poe sometimes wonders what it would be like to live planetside somewhere, settle down in a place long enough to learn all the flora and fauna. He wonders if his father enjoys that kind of familiarity, and feels a pang of refreshingly normal guilt when he realizes he hasn’t sent a holo in several weeks.

He’ll get to it.

Poe’s up before most of his pilots -- he sees the night flyers coming in from the hangar and nods at them on his way to the medical bay. He’s not thrilled, but he was already awake by the time she’d messaged him, so he figures Dr. Kalonia should be able to change his dressings easily enough while she berates him.

Dr. Kalonia whirls around when the doors swish open, glare at the ready.

“How nice of you to answer my summons, Commander,” she sniffs.

Poe rubs at the back of his neck with his good arm and tries to look sheepish. “I’m sorry, Doc, but the General’s orders come first. Always have.”

She crosses her arms and studies him. “Even over your own recovery?”

“War doesn’t take sick leave, Major.”

She frowns at him but he knows she’s got her own marching orders, and she hustles him over to a table.

“I’m going to be bringing in one of the trainees to learn how to change out your bacta patch. That way you’ll have a second opinion on when you’ll be fit to fly, since you seem to hold my medical advice in such low esteem.”

“Uh,” Poe says as he clambers onto the familiar medical table. “I’m sorry but I’d rather you didn’t? Aren’t there droids who can take care of that?”

Her glare softens a bit when he looks balefully at her, making sure to look as wide-eyed as possible.

“I would really prefer the nature of my injury to, uh, remain under wraps.”

Her glare returns and he grins sheepishly. “It was too good to resist.”

Dr. Kalonia rolls her eyes.

“Finn volunteered,” she says finally. “I wouldn’t farm you out to just anyone, sweetheart.”

Poe shifts nervously. “For me specifically, or in general?”

“He said he was fine tending to you, specifically, when I asked.”

He thinks, well, if Finn is fine with it, he should be too, or at least he should act like it.

“Sure, if it’ll help his training.”

“At this point, he needs some hands-on experience, especially since he keeps getting flown around on missions whenever one of you feels like it. Maker knows I’d rather have him in one of the medical academies, but with the Hosnian system,” here she waves her hand, her throat tight, “and his high profile...it doesn’t seem feasible.”

Poe nods and starts pulling off his shirt. He doesn’t want anyone to see the aftermath, but he feels especially uneasy about Finn seeing it -- even through his irrational jealousy and anger, he wants Finn to be unencumbered by the guilt that sit heavy in his own gut.

Poe’s feelings will pass and his wounds will heal, he knows, but trauma lasts for a long time.

“You know, you’ll have to do some physical therapy once it does heal,” he hears her say as he rolls onto his stomach on the table.

He does know -- scar tissue gets hard, muscle gets weak, layers of it fresh from bacta growth. He has pink weals from blaster hits on his stomach, one big scar on his thigh from being shot in Jakku. He’s only merited a full bacta immersion once, after a hard post-dogfight planetside crash, re-entry burns and shrapnel all over his left side. Real liquid bacta was expensive, and production planets were First Order sympathizers, or used to be.

“I’ll see what I can pencil in,” Poe says, and she sighs.

“Hang tight,” she says, and she leaves him in the semi-secluded general treatment area and heads further into the wings of the medical bay.

Poe got to know Rey back there, keeping each other company as they watched over Finn’s comatose form. He knows he shouldn’t feel so skittish around her but it nags at him -- Jedi are mind readers, or could be. He had enough experience with that even without scars to point at on his skin.

He cranes his neck to look behind him when he hears Dr. Kalonia step up, a second pair of footsteps trailing her.

“Hey buddy,” Poe says, as casually as he can muster, before he settles his face into the round pillow at the front of the table.

“Hey,” Finn says, maybe a little false bravado in his voice. “So, Dr. Kalonia has given me a pretty good description of your wound healing progression. The bacta patches are accelerating your healing to about 3x the natural rate, which means you’ll be healed over sooner but with thicker scar tissue, most likely.”

Poe grunts an affirmative, staring at the floor, and he hears Finn take a deep breath.

“But that means you run the risk of healing improperly if you start, uh, and I quote, ‘fucking around in an X-Wing’ sooner than Dr. Kalonia says you can.”

That startles a bark of a laugh out of Poe, and he lifts his head so he can look back at her and Finn. The good doctor is smirking, and Finn looks torn between laughing and trying to keep it professional.

“Like I said, Major, I’ve gotta prioritize my marching orders over doctor’s orders.”

He settles back into the pillow, and hears her snort behind him.

“Certainly, we all sacrifice for this war effort,” she says, standing by his head. “But your health isn’t something you should jeopardize so willingly.”

He feels her cool hand on his back, and then Finn’s broader fingers near his spine. They’re both wearing gloves, of course -- he knows Finn’s hands are rougher than the smooth neolatex, calloused and strong. He feels Finn tug at the edge of his bandage.

Poe shuts his eyes and grimaces as it gets slowly pulled from his skin. Dr. Kalonia normally pulls it off in one go, but that’s apparently an advanced technique because she’s telling Finn to take his time so as not to jostle any of the scabbing.

It probably looks even worse than the day before, gorey and sticky with the bacta gel. It stings when air hits it.

“You’ll need to be very careful when wiping down the older gel; when not in it’s liquid form bacta loses its healing properties quickly. Leaving the residue can prevent the fresh bacta patch from working as well as it should.”

Dr. Kalonia’s voice is a study in measured cadence, smooth and even. But there’s no response. He was expecting at least a half-hearted joke from Finn.

Instead, Poe can hear a choked off gag. Even if he can’t see Finn’s disgust, it makes him cringe.

“Dr. Kalonia...I think I made a mistake,” he hears Finn say. “I’m sorry, Poe.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” Poe mumbles, but he isn’t sure if Finn can hear -- Finn’s footsteps suggest a hasty retreat.

Poe does not try to catch a glimpse of him.

“He’s just not used to the worse parts of the job,” the doctor says, tone still soothing, as she gently, gently wipes down his wound.

“Ah,” Poe says, because it feels like she wants a response. “It’s...it’s not a big deal. You can give the task to a medidroid if you’re busy.”

She hums in response. “Maybe in a day or two when the cleaning won’t be so fraught.”

Poe doesn’t ask for more detail, just lets her unravel the treated cotton from his joints. He doesn’t want to look at them either.

“On the plus side,” she adds, “you can stop wearing the bandages. The sores on your wrists and especially ankles seem healed up enough that getting a little more air would be fine. You’ll still want to wrap them while you sleep, though.”

He sits up when he’s all re-dressed and salved and patched. “Am I clear for in-atmosphere flight, Doc?”

She looks at him seriously, the joking irritation gone for a moment. “I’m not happy about this, you know.”

“I know.”

“You’re cleared, but you need to talk to someone, Commander.”

Poe swallows. “I’ll do what I can.”

Finn is nowhere to be seen as he leaves.

-

Poe clambers into his X-Wing and his nerves settle almost instantly -- his body knows how to do this even if his brain is still all fucked up. He brings up BB-8, who whistles with anticipation.

Strapping in takes a little time. His wrists are still black and blue and green, a gross pattern of healing colors, and running a pre-flight check is more work than he’s done with his hands since his return to base. The ache is going to be fierce later, he can tell, but he ignores it, waiting for BB-8 to confirm his readouts and clear him.

He feels more at ease than ever as the ship rumbles awake, calm settling as he runs through his routines and starts out on the runway. It’s almost reflex at this point -- just enough thought goes into it that he’ll spot an error, but he could probably do it while on fire. He has to be able to fly on no sleep, at all hours, when injured, whenever.

Poe has to and he can and has, knows how to do his job in any state.

That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

The brand hurts the worst as he takes off and is pressed into his seat. It hurts, really -- it hurts more the faster he goes, the more force is applied to him in return. The wound’s not ready for any kind of pressure, and it pulls uncomfortably when he takes a sharp turn over the trees.

Poe can fly anything, any time, even when he shouldn’t. The General needs him to.

The longer he flies, the more the pain radiates out. But the sharpness is gone, and his mind pushes the full body ache aside, settling into a zone where all he has to do is navigate the sky. He feels stronger than he has in days, more settled into his own skin.

Here is where he excels -- the cockpit is what he was made for.

He jolts in his seat when he remembers the dream, then remembers the reality that built that dream. Poe’s jaw hurts, an old ache mixing with the new ache of being clenched too long -- he has to force it too relax.

“Fuck,” he says, and BB-8 whistles at him.

“It’s not a problem,” he says.

BB-8 doesn’t buy it, hooting a little.

“I’m glad Kalonia’s sending you your own memos. But I know she’s worried. I’m worried. But there’s a mission.”

The astromech droid sounds dubious.

“She’s not taking advantage of me,” Poe lies, and BB-8 doesn’t even bother to point it out.

-

“Hey,” Finn says, waking him up from a post-flight nap. Finn is in his room again, sitting on the end of his bed, wearing his jacket.

“Uh.” Poe says, eloquent. His mouth tastes gross and feels dry. His body hurts and he fumbles for a hypo and realizes he’s already used his morning allotment. He still feels exhausted.

“Hey,” Poe says. He feels like shit, but Finn isn’t looking him in the eye either.

“Can I ask what brought you here?”

Poe wishes he had more clothes on -- he’s in a tank and tight-fitting undershorts, and so all his bruises and old scars are on display again, stark reminders of why this conversation is going to be awful.

“I...I wanted to leave you a note saying that I was sorry, for this morning. You’re normally in the mess hall now, but you were here instead and…”

“You figured you’d just say it to my face?” Poe rubs at his neck. “You don’t need to apologize, Finn.”

“Yes I do!” Finn says sharply.

Poe squeezes his own eyes shut for a minute, hard enough that he sees color behind his eyelids. He takes a deep breath through his nose, and opens them again.

“It’s not like getting captured wasn’t traumatic for you, too,” he says evenly, even if his voice is quiet.

Finn stares at him for a long moment.

“Man, you have to stop that,” he finally says. “You don’t need to try to take care of me all the time.”

Poe rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands, and he can feel Finn flinch at the sight of his wrists, the bruises from the shackles bright and sore. He’ll need to ice them later.

“I...Finn, I don’t know what you want from me.” Poe knows he wants to shove Finn out of the room and sleep more. “I thought we talked about this.”

“Are you mad?” Finn looks deadly serious now, which is more arresting than Poe expected, all that bright energy focused on him. It’s not exactly how he’d pictured that happening.

“I--” Poe wants to say it but he doesn’t want to put that on Finn, when Finn seems to be doing just fine at the self-blame game.

“You can hit me if you want,” Finn says. “It always helped solved problems in the Order.”

Finn takes a beat but then cracks a smile at him, and Poe’s relieved.

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not sometimes.”

“I just wanted you to know that it’s fine if you’re mad. I mean, not that I want you to be mad at me, of course. I just want to know if I should keep my distance for a while.” Finn grabs his hand and that startles Poe enough that he doesn’t yank it back. “Dr. Kalonia told me it would be normal for you to have some resentment about the whole thing, not that I hadn’t already figured it out.”

“I...me being mad at you doesn’t. It’s not about you.” Poe feels desperately out of his depth -- his feelings don’t make any sense to himself, how can he explain to Finn? “It’s not fair for me to be mad at you.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Dameron, but the galaxy isn’t fair.” Finn smiles, a muted version of his normal one, and Poe doesn’t want him to do that, dull himself for Poe’s sake.

Poe shakes his head. “I don’t...look, I’m going to be weird about it for awhile. But I don’t want”

I don’t want this to take any more than it already has

“you to stay away, for us to change anything. You’re important to me, or I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

Finn laughs a little at that, but the tension in his face eases a bit. “Yes, you would have.”

Poe looks at the ground. “I wouldn’t--”

“You’re a good man, Poe Dameron. You’d probably have tried to save anyone.”

Poe bites his lip and thinks about whether that’s true, decides that it’s not.There’s a complicated calculus behind the risks he takes, and Finn tips the scales heavily in favor of self-sacrifice.

“Sure,” Poe says eventually. He notices Finn relax, just a little more droop in his shoulders, and Poe realizes he said the right thing, passed this weird test in their friendship.

“You don’t have to feel guilty...we both know it’s not your fault.” Which was why the anger was stupid and misplaced, he told his brain.

Finn squeezes his hand.

-

“The Republic is sending us forces.” The General says it without preamble, like it’s something that happens every day, like the Republic has ever deigned to answer their calls for backup before.

She starts pulling up maps, ignoring the dropped jaws in the room.

Admiral Ackbar is the first to recover enough to voice his dubiousness. “And what do they expect in return?”

“The attack on the Hosnian system changed everything,” snaps Major Brance, more angry than Poe remembers him being in strategy sessions. “Of course they’ll be willing to send us support troops now that we’ve already done the heavy lifting.”

Poe isn’t sure what to think - he can do fighting, and take a stab at diplomacy, but the greater mechanicians of the Republic have always been opaque to him. He knows what he believes in, what the General believes in, and that was enough to join up.

“We’re going to go on the offensive this time around. Commander!”

“Yes sir,” Poe snaps.

“How many days do you think it would take to integrate an influx of Republic flyers into the Starfighters?”

Poe shrugs. “Are we working from their strategy and under their command, or am I in charge of the air operations?”

“Best estimate with you at the helm.”

“For a specific mission, six days minimum, depending on the size. But when you say influx, I’m imagining not insignificant numbers. Two weeks if you can spare ‘em -- we can start out with smaller tactical runs and move up to the big show.”

General Organa looks at Nien Nunb, who shrugs and nods, saying, “The Commander is...optimistic but not too far-fetched in his assertion.”

Admiral Statura begins to pull up some tactical plans. “We’ve managed to narrow down the location of the backup First Republic base to about four planets, in two systems. We just don’t have the man-power.”

“And the Republic still does?” Poe tries not to think about the Hosnian attack, focuses on their victory and not who died. The friends he still had in the Republic who died serving it.

Statura frowns at him. “Recruitment has not gone down in wake of the Hosnian tragedy, Commander.”

Poe shifts uncomfortably. “How fresh do you think the fighters we’re getting’ll be?”

“How much would that affect your estimate?” The General looks like she hasn’t considered this angle, and that is a little unsettling. Still, it’s why he’s there.

“I ain’t a miracle worker, and neither are our other tacticians, brilliant as they are...”

“To be fair, the strategy of ‘blow up that big weapon’ has been working okay so far,” Snap says, earning himself several glares.

“We’re starting with fact-finding. The First Order is still technically a part of the Galactic Senate, and gaining ground as we speak. The Starkiller base has been attributed to no less than three terrorist organizations,” Statura says, looking rankled. “Captain..”

Snap rolls his eyes but lifts his hands up. “Yes sir.”

“Ideally, once the next base is discovered, the Republic will have enough evidence to start making moves in the Senate to oust the more powerful members propped up by the First Order,” the General says.

Lieutenant Connix pipes up at that, and she moves the discussion to more political tactics rather than blowing-shit-up tactics.

Poe wants to say something else, ask who has to do the work of taking out that base, of blowing up the big weapon. He doubts it’ll go to a bunch of fresh-faced Academy grads.

Instead, he glances at Snap, who jerks his chin at a chair next to him. It’s customary to stand during these briefings, but Poe slides into it gratefully and pulls out a datapad, pulling up a few of their easier drills.

“This is gonna be a shitshow,” Snap mutters to him, and Poe gives him a small smile.

“Don’t I know it,” he whispers back.

Statura and Ackbar are currently arguing about budgeting, Emmatt and Connix frowning around them.

“You bored, Starforce?” the General asks, eyebrow raised.

“No sir,” Poe says, the same time Snap says, “I just don’t have a mind for finances, sir.”

She rolls her eyes and says, “Dismissed, Captain, Commander. Make sure to touch base with Nien Nunb and the other squad leaders ASAP.”

“Yes, sir,” Poe says, standing up. His back protests and he wonders if this is a new threshold for him, if he’ll just need to get used to it.

“Meet up for drinks tonight?” Snap asks after the door slides shut. “I heard somebody broke medleave protocol and thought they might like to celebrate.”

Snap looks hopeful and happy, and it makes Poe suddenly feel incredibly old, and incredibly tired.

He runs his hand through his hair. “I better not push it,” he says.

Snap shrugs. “No worries, man. Take your time.”

Poe feels white-hot anger for a long second, then just feels exhausted. He’s pissed that his friends are too understanding -- if only everyone had problems like his.

-

“Come picnic with us,” Rey says, demands, when Poe comes out of his room. He’s changed into civvies after a second catnap and had a half-made plan to talk to Nien Nunb about seat cushioning and tactics.

“What?” he asks, stopping in his tracks.

“I’m leaving before the Republic forces arrive,” she says, “and you’ve been very evasive.”

Poe swallows, but she’s not wrong. “I’ve been very busy.”

Rey quirks an eyebrow at him, dubious. “Busy sleeping, maybe.”

“Kriff, you’re a mind-reader now, aren’t you? The General always knew when I was lying growing up, too.”

She blinks. “You knew General Organa growing up?”

“She was friends with my madre, my, uh, mother. They fought together, during the Rebellion.”

“This is the kind of stuff you could tell me about over dinner, you know.” Rey smiles at him.

“A fair point,” he concedes.

“Plus, you have to eat soon. Finn says it’ll take you longer to heal if you keep skipping meals, even if it’s good you’re sleeping.”

Poe realizes slowly that he’s starving -- he hasn’t eaten since just about dawn, running around all day.

“I should listen to his advice. The doctor’s a good teacher.”

She grabs his hand and he realizes she’s wearing his jacket.

Well, Finn’s jacket, but it was his first (his mother’s first). He’s had it longer.

They go out through the hanger doors, waving at Goos and a few other technicians. BB-8 rolls right up to them, buzzing happily at Rey, so they take them along, too.

There’s already a blanket laid out at the outcropping near the landing field, a basket sitting on top of it.

His whole body goes tense when a branch behind him cracks, and he reaches for a knife he’s started to keep strapped to his leg. It’s just Finn, though, coming around after wandering away for a bit.

“Hey,” Finn says, smile broad, and Poe breathes in, nods.

Rey drops her bag onto the blanket and sits down, and Finn settles down next to her.

Poe blinks at the tableau -- it’s honestly right out of a holo for children.

“It’s alright, isn’t it?” Rey asks, and he realizes they’re nervous. “We asked around what a picnic was supposed to entail.”

Poe settles himself on the half of the blanket that’s out of the shade, the suns warm and life-affirming. He almost lays back, remembering his back just in time.

“It’s perfect. I had a holobook with a picture of a picnic and it looked just like this.”

Rey and Finn both grin at him.

“I asked Snap about it, but he said booze was the most important part of a picnic,” Finn says, rolling his eyes. “I told him that’s the most important part of a party, or an orgy, but clearly not a picnic.”

Poe laughs right out at that. “Did Snap choke on his own tongue when you said the word orgy?”

Finn laughs, too. “Yeah. I think he thinks I’m a blushing kidling.”

“There’s nothing wrong with inexperience,” Poe says, not really thinking about it. He sees Rey glance at him, her gaze calculating.

“Jessika said the most important thing was a basket,” she says after a beat.

Poe thinks about trekking through the woods of Yavin 4. His mom just threw some food in her rucksack, but he doesn’t say anything. Who knows what real picnics are like elsewhere?

“How have you been?” Rey asks, politely, around a mouthful of an enormous sandwich.

“Fine,” he says. “Dr. Kalonia is taking good care of me.”

Rey smiles. “I like her -- she seems to be training Finn very well.”

She holds up a bandaged arm. “Finn was able to help me with a training injury just yesterday.”

Finn looks bashful. “It was nothing,” he says.

Poe wonders if those two ever had someone around for that, if anyone ever bandaged scraped knees for them. Probably not much more than a medidroid for Finn, and not even that for Rey. That they can do these things for each other now is nice.

“What have you been up to lately?” Rey asks. She carefully pulls some fruit out of the basket, offers him some like Finn told her eactly what his favorites were.

“Just resting up, and being fed by people who should know better. Like I mentioned earlier, there was that pilots only thing the other day, no offense.”

Rey gives him a wry smile, but Finn just shrugs. “None taken. I can’t say I’m very eager to get back in a cockpit anytime soon.”

Poe laughs a little too late and wonders if he should start joking about it more, if that would make it less real.

Instead, he settles back on his elbows on the blanket and gazes at a hazy suns set.

“You’re welcome to eat some of what we brought,” Rey says, and she hands him a bottle of fruit juice, too.

He finds he can’t decline that so he smiles.

“I told her about your sweet tooth,” Finn says, “So we packed some sugary stuff just in case we got you to come out with us.”

BB-8 chirps, and Rey laughs.

“I think I’m allowed to indulge a little while I’m on leave, Beebee,” he chides.

“When are you two going to teach me binary?” Finn asks, pulling a couple bowls out of the basket.

“You don’t learn binary from a person,” Rey says, laughing even more.

Finn looks to Poe for support, but he shakes his head. “She’s right, buddy. Best way to learn is to just make a droid friend and listen.”

BB-8 bleeps enthusiastically, nudging Finn in the leg.

“I think you got a volunteer right there.”

Finn shrugs. “Yeah, if I can ever catch BB-8 in downtime, maybe I’ll get some practice in.”

“Well, you just missed the window of me being grounded,” Poe says, carefully, but Finn rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that was the shortest seven days I’ve ever seen,” he says, deadpan.

Poe shrugs. “I’m fine. I flew this morning and didn’t break apart.”

Rey frowns. “That seems ill-advised.”

“It was not ‘advised’ at all. Poe got just the opposite advice, in fact.” Finn is joking but nervously.

Poe takes a long drink, but they’re both looking at him now. “I’ve got orders to follow,” he says, slowly. “If the General needs me to fly, I’ll fly.”

Finn opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but then he doesn’t. He busies himself with a bite of stew, his own stalling technique.

“So now that we’ve established that I’m perfectly fine,” he says, “how are you doing, Rey?”

“Training with Master Luke is amazing,” she says, face absolutely lighting up when she smiles, bright enough that Poe and Finn smile back on instinct.

“I hope he’s loosened up some,” Poe says. “I remember him a little from when I was a kid. He was so serious then.”

Rey nods and actually puts her sandwich down -- she normally eats everything in one fast burst. “He’s somber, sure, but there’s so much to learn!”

“So what kind of Jedi tricks do you have up your sleeves now?”

Rey keeps smiling, and Poe finds his juice bottle floating out of his hand. A cup raises up from a basket, and she pours him a glass of juice without touching anything.

Finn’s eyes are wide, and Poe’s playing it cool but he feels like doing the same.

“That’s. Wow. Rey, that’s ridiculous.” BB-8 chimes in too, whistling excitedly.

“That was amazing!” Finn says, “I’ve never seen the Force used for anything but...well, you know.”
Poe feels swept up in that enthusiasm. He wonders why he was avoiding Finn at all -- maybe his good-natured energy will be a balm instead of an irritant.”

“It’s a start,” she says. “The finesse is...hard.”

“You’re learning this and fight training?”

She shrugs. “Master Luke says I need to be prepared for anything.”

Poe once thought he was prepared for anything, but it turned out that was just a lie he told himself.

He doesn’t say that to Rey.

“I’m sure.” Poe wants to ask her to do more magic, but he also wants to ask how hauling her off to some unknown planet is going to help them win the war.

“So while Rey’s been learning how to use the Force,” Poe says, “how have you been while training in the medbay?”

“I mean, that takes up a lot of time; it’s been a learning experience...wait.” Finn narrows his eyes. “I’m onto you, Dameron.”

Poe raises his hands in surrender. “I’m allowed to be worried about you if you’re going to insist on breaking into my room to talk to me about feelings.”

“Is that where he was today?” Rey asks. Her eyes are sparkling

“He’s done it twice.”

“Hey! I don’t think it counts as a break-in if you’re the one who gave me lock access.”

Poe purses his lips, biting back a retort. “I didn’t think you’d make me talk through trauma with it. Kriff, it’s bad enough to get it from the General.”

“I don’t know why you think talking is so bad.”

Poe sighs. “I don’t know why I need to talk out every detail of my life right now.”

Rey glances between the two of them. “Probably because you were recently kidnapped? It tends to be somewhat traumatic, in my experience.”

Poe pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course Rey knew the kind of panic that fluttered in his chest.

Not talking about that -- the immobilization, the guilt, the fear, the deep press into his mind -- well, it had worked fine thus far.

“I really do want to hear about your training,” Poe says.

“Dr. Kalonia is very, very patient,” Finn says. “I honestly don’t know how she hasn’t tazed some of the more unruly patients we get.”

Poe grimaces. “That’s not really the way we do things in the Resistance.”

Finn shakes his head. “Yeah, well, all I know is that it works really well for calming people down.” He waits a beat before laughing at Poe’s shocked expression, and Rey gives him a high-five.

“I’m sorry, but your face is always so priceless,” Finn says.

Poe isn’t sure how to say, I wish I could have protected you sooner.

“You’re surprisingly easy to trick for a Commander,” Rey says.

“Maybe I just don’t usually hang around with liars,” he says, grinning.

“No, that’s definitely not the case -- I’ve heard Snap and Jessika’s stories,” says Finn. “Those are some tall tales.”

“They just get excited to have someone new to regale with their exploits,” Poe says. “Besides, we really did fight off 20 TIE fighters that one time.”

“Terrible,” Finn says. “Just terrible.”

Rey leans her head onto Finn’s shoulder and it makes Poe feel more than he expected to.

Seeing them together makes him feel wistful -- he’d been hoping a recon mission together would be a good way to get closer to Finn and maybe test the waters. Finn is handsome, but more than that, he’s good-hearted..

Poe looks down at his bruised up wrists and then back at Finn and Rey, looking at a forest and a suns set like it was new, a wholly beautiful and unique experience. Poe tries to see it like that, but he watches the birds and thinks instead, I need to be flying.

Finn needs someone who isn’t hurtling toward a fiery demise, Poe thinks. He’s too jaded by half for that smile on Finn’s face when the sky shifts to purple, dark and soft. He was even before their capture.

“I’ve never been some place with this many suns,” Finn says, looking out at the clear blend of colors in the sky. There’s very little pollution on the planet and so the suns set is a gorgeous palate of deep reds and bright oranges, not like the pinks and greens Poe remembers from Hosnia Prime, even Coruscant.

Rey says, “I’m impressed at the amount of vegetation that manages to live here even with a second sun.”

“Is Master Skywalker’s getaway planet a desert too?” He can’t imagine it is, but he knew Tatooine wasn’t much more than that.

“No, no, it’s got a great big ocean,” she says with a giant grin. “There’s so much water, and there’s grass and moss everywhere on the island he lives on.”

“It must feel a lot different,” Poe says. “How do you like living in a place with rain?”

Rey makes a face. “I liked it at first, but it’s lost its charm now that I have to train in it.”

Finn laughs. “No days off, huh?”

Poe understands the sentiment. He lets them take over the conversation; he doesn’t have much to add besides a few teasing comments, and even those fade away. Eventually Finn pushes a sandwich into his hands, and he eats it mechanically, barely tasting it.

His back hurts. Everything does and he didn’t bring pain killers with him. He wonders how long he’ll feel like this, listless and empty, and what could make it stop.

“You’ve gotten quiet,” Rey says.

“I’m just tired.” It’s not a lie.

“Your body is using all its energy to heal itself, Poe. You need to rest,” says Finn,

BB-8 beeps at him, backing Finn up, and they exchange thumbs ups.

Poe rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe they’re taking your side and you can’t even understand them.”

“BB-8 knows what’s up, unlike you.” Finn looks at him. “It’s like you can’t wait to hurt yourself.”

Poe breaks eye contact first. “Can you start mothering him, Rey, so he realizes how annoying it is?”

“It’s more likely he’ll just turn his sights to me,” Rey says, “So I’m not too bothered.”

“That also suits me fine,” he says.

Darkness settles around them, just the light , and they pack up.

“Rey and I were going to play some Sabaac with Snap, if you want to join?” Rey is holding Finn’s hand again, and they’re silhouetted in the dusk light and Poe can’t stand it, the balance there.

BB-8 whistles at him, low and apologetic, but Poe’s a little relieved.

“Uh, I think I’m being summoned for a strategy meeting. Don’t let him cheat, Rey.”

He doesn’t look back as he goes inside, instead settles himself in a cocktail of guilt and petty jealousy as he sits in for a strategy briefing.

Nien Nunb at least buys him a drink after they draft out a week’s worth of drills to help dull the unease in his nerves.

---

hey just wanted to drop in an update - i'm working out plot elements, and have gotten a beta, but you've all been so great and supportive i thought i would add some parts here to make sure you know i'm still working on this! thanks so much for all your comments and support, and sorry i've slowed down so much on this. thanks for sticking with me!

Dear A!A: <3

Now I'm hot and bothered.

IM FUCKIN CRYLAUGHING ANON

+1

"Way to go, Poe! WAY TO GO!"

God, I love everything about this. I wish this minifill was chapter 1 of a 10 chapter fic.

Holy shit that was so hot I think I may have imploded!

man oh man, so much premium sizzling filth but somehow it's the ass grabbing that hits me hardest

slipping under the waistbands of both Kylo’s leggings and his undergarments to get two good handfuls of his ass

fuck yeah

Very nice.

Wow, just wow. This is incredible!

Take all your time, I'm sure I'll enjoy reading it, too, once you have some more.

You write both characters so well...I loved when they were waiting for the other to start moving first, like literally everything is a competition for them. This was so hot. Thank you!

*rubs hands gleefully* OP is super happy this is getting filled! And dark!Poe to start off with, mwahahahaha. I've always loved the double agent trope.

Why did it take me so long to find this? This is painful, but so beautifully written. At the cost of my heart I await for future updates!

This is amazing.

Holy shit what a great fill!

He always sucked dick like he's been waiting for it all day, sloppy and with no finesse.

~delicious ~headcanon ~accepted

Oh Poe, HONEY. I love how plotty and insightful this is getting.

+1000000

I HAVE A BURNING NEED

Oh wow, I really hope you come back to this, anon!

OOhhh fuck that was simply amazing. Oh my god. You knocked it out of the park.

Poe resists for as long as he can. He resists the conditioning that the First Order puts him through. He resists the intrusion by Kylo Ren into his mind. He resists the very call of his soulbond to Kylo Ren. He holds onto the hope that the Resistance will come for him, that Finn or Rey or Snap would walk through the door and drag him to safety. He resists and hopes until the combined weight of the conditioning and his soulmate finally drags him down and breaks the hope inside of him.

His memories before the conditioning are fuzzy and distant. It hurts to dwell on them so he does not do so often. Kylo does not want him to, either. He does not want to disappoint Kylo. Never Kylo. He remembers waking up for the first time after conditioning and seeing Kylo for, what was as far as anyone is concerned, the first time. He remembers the feelings of fear and hope and love and terror rush into his mind. He still does not fully understand the fear and terror he had felt. When he asks his soulmate about it, Kylo tells him he would never hurt Poe, would never give him cause to fear him, and Poe believes him. Kylo tells him not to think about those things, so Poe does his best to push them from his mind.

Poe is taught to fly a TIE fighter. He knows Kylo can feel the delight that courses through him as he guides the fighter through space for the first time. He feels a sense of déjà vu, but remembers Kylo's orders and pushes the feeling down in favor of focusing on piloting the incredible machine through maneuvers with the other TIE fighter pilots. Their compliments when they land are welcome but pale in comparison to the ones from his soulmate. The words 'best pilot in the galaxy' ring in his mind and remind him of a different kind of fighter but Poe cannot place the memories. Kylo drives all thoughts of the other craft from his mind that night, anyway.

The conditioning begins to break down after a few months, and Poe gets sent to conditioning again. He finds that his re-conditioning actually causes Kylo some level of pain through the soulbond that he cannot block out. Poe does not like the thought of his soulmate suffering because of him. He promises Kylo that he will not need to be sent back there. Kylo just sadly says that he knows that. Poe does not understand the sadness in Kylo's voice.

Poe is finally cleared for combat. He can feel Kylo in the back of his mind as he swoops around the Finalizer and watches as his gunner shoots X-wing after X-wing. He finds joy in the feeling of flying but there is a tinge of sorrow when he watches the flash of light as each X-wing explodes into thousands of pieces. Kylo soothes his mind and helps him focus back on the task at hand. He is commended for his excellent piloting skills, for helping to destroy no less than ten X-wings that day. Kylo's presence helps him focus on the praise and the exhilaration that comes from a job well-done instead of the niggling feeling of regret.

Finally, the First Order bring the Resistance to heel. Poe is disappointed that after all of his contributions, he will not be allowed to attend the ceremony that will serve to announce the victory of the First Order and pass sentencing on the captured Resistance members. He watches it from his and Kylo's shared room. The feeling that he knows the people being sentenced to death grows with each second. Kylo's presence in his mind tells him to turn the news off, to ignore their faces, to not think about it. Poe asks Kylo how he knows them, how he could possibly be sure that he knows more than just their faces. Kylo tells him again to not think about it. After another plea for Kylo to tell him what is happening to him, Poe feels Kylo slip deeper into his mind and the order to not think about it becomes one he cannot disobey. He crawls into their bed when Kylo orders him to and the next thing he knows, Kylo is standing over him and stroking his hair. He does not think about the trials or the memories as he wraps his arms and legs around Kylo. He does not think about anything but Kylo for a long while.

That shattering sound is my heart breaking from how beautifully painful and well written this is. Wow!

Thanks! (Sorry about your heart...)

I'll be cleaning this up and posting it to AO3 soon. I'll make sure to link to it when I do.

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Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 12/?

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Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 14/?

Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 15/?

Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 15/?

Re: FILL: kylux, mpreg

Re: Finn/Poe - Love lifts us up where we belong

Re: Finn/Poe - Love lifts us up where we belong

Re: mini fill

Re: FILL: kylux, mpreg

Re: FILL: kylux, mpreg

Re: FILL: kylux, mpreg

Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 15/?

Re: FILL: kylux, mpreg

Re: FILL: Some Rise By Sin (1/?) - Gen (for now) - (almost) everyone is a double agent

Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 15/?

Re: Fill: Crossover drabbles - B99

Re: Hux gets himself off

Re: FILL: Re: Poe/Finn Branding 15/?

Re: Kylo, Han (Kylo/Hux or Gen)

Re: FILL: Cinder, Kylo has BPD, eventual Kylo/Hux, TWs in post [ 1 / ? ]

Re: FILL: kylux, mpreg

Mini-fill: Poe/ Kylo Ren Soulmate au - TW: brainwashing, dubcon

Re: Mini-fill: Poe/ Kylo Ren Soulmate au - TW: brainwashing, dubcon

Re: Mini-fill: Poe/ Kylo Ren Soulmate au - TW: brainwashing, dubcon