[ Poe’s reaction is immediate and electric as Peter’s hand curls around his cock. It's far more direct than the fleeting friction he gets being pressed into the bed by Peter's broader body, and the way Peter punctuates each steady thrust with the slide of his palm—
Poe shouts for him without even thinking twice.
His hand flies off of the pillow to brace against the wall behind the bed, using the leverage to shove back against Peter as best he can without displacing either point of mindnumbing pleasure. ]
Yes, fuck, like that—
[ It doesn't usually take too much for Poe to lose track of what comes spilling out of his mouth, and tonight is no exception. Curses and praise and Peter's name all run into one long, breathless ramble as he falls into the rhythm. ]
[ It's intoxicating once Poe slips into that mindless babble, and Peter lets out a low, appreciative sound for it. A part of him wants to keep this going, thinks about slowing down to drag it out and drive Poe into a needy, babbling mess, but—
—Peter's pretty sure Poe would be more likely to throttle him than actually play along. Especially when the guy seems so close to the edge already.
So Peter keeps up that same, relentless rhythm, keeps stroking Poe through it as he drives his own cock into him, again and again. ]
[ Look, being in the Resistance is dangerous business; Poe always assumed that if he was going down, it would be in his x-wing, shot out of the sky.
But now, he’s pretty sure Peter Quill might actually kill him.
He’s barely even aware of the sounds coming out of his mouth, and Peter keeps filling him over and over and over, and all Poe has to do is arch his back a little more—
It’s obvious when the angle is just right, considering Poe’s change in pitch and volume. It’s almost impossible for him to keep still, at this point, and he keeps twisting and bucking, his muscles vise-like around Peter’s cock. A noise like a strangled sob is practically ripped out of his throat as he grabs at Peter’s arm – just to brace himself – as the overwhelming intensity of his pulsing dick slams him headfirst into an orgasm. Poe doesn’t exactly have time to warn Peter before ropey cum splashes over Peter’s hand and Poe’s stomach as the pilot keeps gasping and groaning, unable to keep still or remotely quiet through the sensations. ]
[ Fuck, Poe looks good like that, overcome and in pure ecstasy.
Hot cum splashes over Peter's hand, and Peter works Poe through every molten wave, fucking and stroking him through it. Only when Poe falls back with a gasp does Peter loosen his grip, using both elbows to prop himself up to chase his own release.
He ducks down, capturing Poe's mouth again, sloppy and heated with urgency. ]
Fuck— [ Groaned out against Poe's lips. ] God, I've been thinking about this forever—
[ Ever since they realized they were close enough to reasonably cross paths. Ever since they figured out a time, date, and location. Poe's busy being Indispensably Important in the Resistance and Peter is on that endless chase for credits to keep himself afloat that even when they do run into one another, there isn't much time for the personal touch.
Or, you know. The personal touch.
He comes not long after, a moan clawing its way out of him from deep in his gut. He loses his rhythm after that, burying his face against Poe's shoulder. When he's finished, he stays there, keeping himself propped up on an elbow, trying to catch his breath. ]
[ The final sparks of pleasure rocket through Poe as Peter keeps fucking him, and he meets those messy kisses with equal enthusiasm and clumsiness. It’s teeth and tongue and the rough panting of breath between them, and Poe still feels like he’s spinning until finally, he feels Peter throbbing inside him, hears that low groan by his ear, and then Peter stills over him.
Poe pants raggedly for breath, looking dazedly up at the ship’s ceiling. ]
... Fucking finally.
[ He laughs breathily, moving his hand from the wall to wind into Peter’s hair instead. ]
[ He props himself up, rolling to one side to pull himself away from the temptation of settling atop Poe.
After a hesitation, he decides to commit and slide off the bed entirely, stretching a little. His ship isn’t the biggest, built more for speed and agility than storage, which means that the bathroom isn’t too far away. He casts over his shoulder, ]
It takes a lot of finesse to avoid the indomitable forces of debt collectors.
[ ... He absolutely, 100% understands the difficulty of avoiding collectors – especially when those collectors are perfectly happy to blast apart kneecaps instead of collecting credits.
Poe rolls onto his side, appreciatively watching Peter get up. ]
[ Peter heads to the bathroom, grinning privately to himself at Poe’s question. Over his shoulder again, ]
100% sure, yeah. I’ve got a job lined up.
[ He busies himself with giving himself a cursory wipe down. After that, he returns with a towel, dampened with warm water. He sits on the edge of the bed, leg drawn up to turn toward Poe, and he works at cleaning the mess on Poe’s stomach. ]
I’m surprised you’re not out of here by the stroke of midnight, honestly.
[ Poe isn't one to turn down a little pampering, even if it's something as simple as the diligent way Peter is wiping him off. He stays comfortably settled on his hip, reaching up to run fingers through his own messy hair. ]
I occasionally have the freedom of an exception or two.
[ The words, however, are probably more telling than he means them to be; he went out of his way to make sure he'd be able to stay longer with Peter. He absolutely pulled some strings to keep himself here overnight. ]
[ Peter pauses, processing the words and hearing what Poe isn’t saying, and— ]
Oh, shit.
[ Breathed out with a wince, and he glances up to catch Poe’s gaze, though there’s a faint air of sheepishness in his expression. ]
I didn’t realize—
I honestly figured you wouldn’t be able to stay too long.
[ Work tends to pull the two of them in different directions, and it was an uncommonly lucky time if they managed to eke out a handful of hours. Poe’s got important shit to take care of, Peter’s earlier teasing aside, and Peter would’ve bet good credits on Poe having some horrible, galaxy-wide catastrophe to avert mere moments after they said goodbye. ]
[ Poe doesn't look disappointed (even if a tiny, minuscule part of him is), because he gets it. He remembers what life was like on Peter's side of the stars, and when a job presented itself, making it happen could be the difference between skating by on some gross veg-meat or actually stuffing your belly with decent fregeni.
So, obviously, he's not mad.
An eensy bit bummed out, maybe; but not annoyed.
Poe just shrugs as he rubs at the back of his neck, offering Peter a crooked smile. ]
It's good, man. It's not like I tried to coordinate our calendars or something; I just pushed my rendezvous time a little.
[ Peter still winces again, even with as much as the guy is downplaying it. ]
I can— try to leave a little later.
[ But even as he’s saying it, he falters, realizing what a bad idea that is. Leaving at sunrise is already shaving it uncomfortably close to the agreed rendezvous time, and the guy who hired him is liable to fire him if he’s even a minute late.
The guy is a prick like that. But with the credits he’s throwing around, the guy can do or say whatever the hell he wants, and Peter will just smile and nod along.
It might still be doable, pushing out his departure time, as long as he’s a little reckless. Then again, when isn’t he?
Peter huffs out a sharp breath, frustrated, then, trying to mask his uncertainty, ]
[ Poe has known Peter long enough that the nervous hitch isn't anywhere near as subtle as Peter probably means it to be. He feels the languid little tug of soreness as he pushes himself upright, folding his leg as he turns to face Peter. ]
Hey.
[ Poe reaches out, slides his hand around the nape of Peter's neck. ]
I've got the wiggle room. You don't.
[ And as indulgent and reckless as Poe can be, he also understands practicality. ]
I'll be out of your hair so you can leave on time. Don't worry about it, all right?
[ Peter frowns, aggravated by the situation, but there’s a bit of gratitude in his expression, too. At least Poe gets it.
But if Peter had known Poe was gonna make some time for him, Peter would have tried to do the same, because—
... Because of something. Some weird, nebulous reason that Peter can’t quite get the shape of. But it’s— you know. Probably because of the mind-blowing sex, and how rarely they can manage it together.
He scrubs at his face with his free hand. ]
How long have you got?
[ Which probably should’ve been Peter’s question when they first decided to meet, but it’s always easier to see what he should have done when it’s already behind him. ]
I’ve just gotta meet with the guy to get the finer details in person. Maybe I can be there and back before you’ve gotta go.
[ It's one of those unspoken exchanges, that bit of gratitude Poe sees in Peter's face. He knows how this life works, and he actually does believe that Peter would make the time for him, if he could.
[ And he echoes it with that same uncertainty bordering on disappointment from moments ago.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, thinking it over. Getting to the rendezvous point is going to take some time (and a decent amount of fuel), and he’s not sure how long his meeting is going to take. The guy who hired him isn’t exactly the chatty type, but Peter gets the feeling that the job is going to be more complicated than the initial briefing implied.
It’s possible he can make it back before Poe needs to leave, though whether he can return in time for any reunion to amount to anything more substantial than a quick wave goodbye is anyone’s guess. ]
[ They both know how impractical that is, which is why Poe just runs his thumb along Peter’s tendon, shaking his head. ]
C’mon. You’re just gonna burn through your tank.
[ And the extended time Poe had was kind of only worthwhile for the night and maybe the afternoon. He wasn’t going to expect Peter to make so many jumps just to maybe make it back in time to say goodbye. ]
It’s all good. We’ll figure something else out.
[ If, you know, Poe doesn’t die in a war before then. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Poe shouts for him without even thinking twice.
His hand flies off of the pillow to brace against the wall behind the bed, using the leverage to shove back against Peter as best he can without displacing either point of mindnumbing pleasure. ]
Yes, fuck, like that—
[ It doesn't usually take too much for Poe to lose track of what comes spilling out of his mouth, and tonight is no exception. Curses and praise and Peter's name all run into one long, breathless ramble as he falls into the rhythm. ]
Don't stop, faster, Peter—
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—Peter's pretty sure Poe would be more likely to throttle him than actually play along. Especially when the guy seems so close to the edge already.
So Peter keeps up that same, relentless rhythm, keeps stroking Poe through it as he drives his own cock into him, again and again. ]
Let me hear you.
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But now, he’s pretty sure Peter Quill might actually kill him.
He’s barely even aware of the sounds coming out of his mouth, and Peter keeps filling him over and over and over, and all Poe has to do is arch his back a little more—
It’s obvious when the angle is just right, considering Poe’s change in pitch and volume. It’s almost impossible for him to keep still, at this point, and he keeps twisting and bucking, his muscles vise-like around Peter’s cock. A noise like a strangled sob is practically ripped out of his throat as he grabs at Peter’s arm – just to brace himself – as the overwhelming intensity of his pulsing dick slams him headfirst into an orgasm. Poe doesn’t exactly have time to warn Peter before ropey cum splashes over Peter’s hand and Poe’s stomach as the pilot keeps gasping and groaning, unable to keep still or remotely quiet through the sensations. ]
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Hot cum splashes over Peter's hand, and Peter works Poe through every molten wave, fucking and stroking him through it. Only when Poe falls back with a gasp does Peter loosen his grip, using both elbows to prop himself up to chase his own release.
He ducks down, capturing Poe's mouth again, sloppy and heated with urgency. ]
Fuck— [ Groaned out against Poe's lips. ] God, I've been thinking about this forever—
[ Ever since they realized they were close enough to reasonably cross paths. Ever since they figured out a time, date, and location. Poe's busy being Indispensably Important in the Resistance and Peter is on that endless chase for credits to keep himself afloat that even when they do run into one another, there isn't much time for the personal touch.
Or, you know. The personal touch.
He comes not long after, a moan clawing its way out of him from deep in his gut. He loses his rhythm after that, burying his face against Poe's shoulder. When he's finished, he stays there, keeping himself propped up on an elbow, trying to catch his breath. ]
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Poe pants raggedly for breath, looking dazedly up at the ship’s ceiling. ]
... Fucking finally.
[ He laughs breathily, moving his hand from the wall to wind into Peter’s hair instead. ]
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C’mon, man. You make it sound like I don’t take care of you.
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[ His tone is light, teasing, affectionate as he keeps coming through Peter’s hair. ]
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We’re both busy as hell.
[ And his tone turns slightly lofty. ]
You, saving the galaxy from tyranny and oppression.
Me, trying not to go broke.
We’re both doing very important things, obviously.
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I mean, yours sounds pretty intense. I'm just shooting some bad guys.
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[ He props himself up, rolling to one side to pull himself away from the temptation of settling atop Poe.
After a hesitation, he decides to commit and slide off the bed entirely, stretching a little. His ship isn’t the biggest, built more for speed and agility than storage, which means that the bathroom isn’t too far away. He casts over his shoulder, ]
It takes a lot of finesse to avoid the indomitable forces of debt collectors.
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[ ... He absolutely, 100% understands the difficulty of avoiding collectors – especially when those collectors are perfectly happy to blast apart kneecaps instead of collecting credits.
Poe rolls onto his side, appreciatively watching Peter get up. ]
You sure you're out at sunrise?
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100% sure, yeah. I’ve got a job lined up.
[ He busies himself with giving himself a cursory wipe down. After that, he returns with a towel, dampened with warm water. He sits on the edge of the bed, leg drawn up to turn toward Poe, and he works at cleaning the mess on Poe’s stomach. ]
I’m surprised you’re not out of here by the stroke of midnight, honestly.
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I occasionally have the freedom of an exception or two.
[ The words, however, are probably more telling than he means them to be; he went out of his way to make sure he'd be able to stay longer with Peter. He absolutely pulled some strings to keep himself here overnight. ]
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Oh, shit.
[ Breathed out with a wince, and he glances up to catch Poe’s gaze, though there’s a faint air of sheepishness in his expression. ]
I didn’t realize—
I honestly figured you wouldn’t be able to stay too long.
[ Work tends to pull the two of them in different directions, and it was an uncommonly lucky time if they managed to eke out a handful of hours. Poe’s got important shit to take care of, Peter’s earlier teasing aside, and Peter would’ve bet good credits on Poe having some horrible, galaxy-wide catastrophe to avert mere moments after they said goodbye. ]
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So, obviously, he's not mad.
An eensy bit bummed out, maybe; but not annoyed.
Poe just shrugs as he rubs at the back of his neck, offering Peter a crooked smile. ]
It's good, man. It's not like I tried to coordinate our calendars or something; I just pushed my rendezvous time a little.
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I can— try to leave a little later.
[ But even as he’s saying it, he falters, realizing what a bad idea that is. Leaving at sunrise is already shaving it uncomfortably close to the agreed rendezvous time, and the guy who hired him is liable to fire him if he’s even a minute late.
The guy is a prick like that. But with the credits he’s throwing around, the guy can do or say whatever the hell he wants, and Peter will just smile and nod along.
It might still be doable, pushing out his departure time, as long as he’s a little reckless. Then again, when isn’t he?
Peter huffs out a sharp breath, frustrated, then, trying to mask his uncertainty, ]
Yeah. I’ll leave later.
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Hey.
[ Poe reaches out, slides his hand around the nape of Peter's neck. ]
I've got the wiggle room. You don't.
[ And as indulgent and reckless as Poe can be, he also understands practicality. ]
I'll be out of your hair so you can leave on time. Don't worry about it, all right?
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But if Peter had known Poe was gonna make some time for him, Peter would have tried to do the same, because—
... Because of something. Some weird, nebulous reason that Peter can’t quite get the shape of. But it’s— you know. Probably because of the mind-blowing sex, and how rarely they can manage it together.
He scrubs at his face with his free hand. ]
How long have you got?
[ Which probably should’ve been Peter’s question when they first decided to meet, but it’s always easier to see what he should have done when it’s already behind him. ]
I’ve just gotta meet with the guy to get the finer details in person. Maybe I can be there and back before you’ve gotta go.
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It's weird that he doesn't question that part. ]
I gotta be there by tomorrow night.
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[ And he echoes it with that same uncertainty bordering on disappointment from moments ago.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, thinking it over. Getting to the rendezvous point is going to take some time (and a decent amount of fuel), and he’s not sure how long his meeting is going to take. The guy who hired him isn’t exactly the chatty type, but Peter gets the feeling that the job is going to be more complicated than the initial briefing implied.
It’s possible he can make it back before Poe needs to leave, though whether he can return in time for any reunion to amount to anything more substantial than a quick wave goodbye is anyone’s guess. ]
I can go there and come straight back.
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C’mon. You’re just gonna burn through your tank.
[ And the extended time Poe had was kind of only worthwhile for the night and maybe the afternoon. He wasn’t going to expect Peter to make so many jumps just to maybe make it back in time to say goodbye. ]
It’s all good. We’ll figure something else out.
[ If, you know, Poe doesn’t die in a war before then. ]
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Sorry.
[ And he sounds like he certainly means it.
He tosses the little towel aside atop the nearby crate. ]
I just— I really did figure we weren't gonna have much time. If I'd known, I would've pushed back that meeting.
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[ His crooked smile is remorseful, but understanding. ]
But look, we've still got a while before you've gotta jet. I'm here until you kick me out, so.
Don't sweat it.
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After a second, though, he forces himself to set it to one side, offering Poe a quick little smile. ]
Let me make it up to you. Maybe we can fool around enough that you won't even miss those extra hours.
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That sounds like a big job, Starboy.
Don't bite off more than you can chew.
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