nostalgiabomb | open post, vol. 2

Tomorrow night?

[ 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.

[ 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. ]

[ Peter lets out another breath, disappointed again. ]

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.

I know.

[ 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.

[ "Don't sweat it," he says, but here's Peter, sweating it.

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.

[ Poe hisses in a breath through his teeth, wrinkling his nose. ]

That sounds like a big job, Starboy.

Don't bite off more than you can chew.

Star-Lord.

[ And he says it automatically, as he's moving closer on the bed. ]

And you're seriously gonna give me a complex with how little faith you apparently have in me.

[ Poe seems plenty happy to welcome Peter back on the bed with him, though he tries to tamp down his grin as he reaches for Peter again. ]

That just means you're gonna have to send me off with the right impression so I won't end up doubting you again.

[ Duh. ]

You're gonna have to work with me a little, at least.

[ This, as he's ducking down to mouth at Poe's neck. He reaches up, fingers tangling in his dark curls. ]

At least give me a hint on how you want it next.

[ Oh, hello.

The wet heat of Peter's mouth on his neck makes Poe melt almost immediately under that touch, his eyes sliding shut, though that shit-eating grin only widens. ]

I mean, not to say you went easy on me before, but it did feel kind of like you kept the kid-gloves on.

Oh.

[ And he says it lightly, feigning an air of surprise. ]

But that was because of how delicate and fragile you are. I thought you'd appreciate me being so gentle.

Mm, yeah, but I’m pretty sure I said something else. Like, something about the opposite of gentle?

“Ungentle,” maybe?

First of all, “ungentle” absolutely isn’t a word.

[ He nips at the line of Poe’s jaw, the pressure light and quick. ]

So you might wanna try being more specific.

I feel like you just don't want to acknowledge that "ungentle" is totally a word.

[ Poe huffs out a breathless chuckle, reaching up to wind his fingers in Peter's hair to enjoy the light scrape of teeth. ]

Is "rough as fuck" a little clearer?

I'm not acknowledging it's a word because it absolutely isn't.

[ He applies a bit of pressure, encouraging Poe to lie back on the bed. Peter settles half atop him, half-propped up on an elbow, using his free hand to feel along the bare skin of Poe's chest. ]

But, yeah. That's much easier to work with.

[ He nips the hinge of Poe's jaw again, a bit more pressure this time. ]

You and I are gonna have to really narrow down what "rough" means, though.

Like, do you want me to fuck you hard enough that you feel it weeks from now?

[ He mouths at Poe's neck, not quite committing to leaving a bruise. Instead, he avoids focusing on one spot for too long, avoids applying too much pressure. ]

You want me to mark you up so much that you look like you blew up another speeder?

Or did you want something else?

[ Poe doesn't exactly need much encouragement to lie back on the bed, and he's happy to make himself comfortable with Peter keeping close. Peter feels good just resting chest-to-chest, even with most of his weight supported, the warmth of his skin practically making Poe's body hum with approval.

Yeah, this is good.

Poe's breath catches as Peter's teeth dig into his neck, and he arches along with the path of the other man's lips and tongue. He shifts under Peter, combing his blunt nails through Peter's hair encouragingly. ]

Mmn, okay, "weeks" might be pushin' it, but I think you're on the right track.

[ His voice is rougher, but that cocky grin gives itself away on another little laugh. ]

Like, maybe hard enough I'm feeling it for a week, but plural might get impractical.

So there is an upward limit.

Good to know.

[ He shifts, offering the same attentions to the other side of Poe's neck. ]

See? That's why we need to have this discussion. That's valuable info, Dameron.

[ Poe snorts quietly, tilting his head to accommodate Peter's shift. ]

Is this where I tell you that my safeword is "droid?"

[ He pauses, lifting his head to cast him a look that's both amused and disbelieving. ]

Wait. Is it really?

[ Poe blinks up at him. ]

What? It's a perfectly good safeword. Short and easy to remember.

[ ... Okay. The defensiveness tells Peter that Poe's not just joking around, and Peter's smile turns a little sharper. ]

Hey, I'm not criticizing. I was just trying to figure out if you were being for real or not.

You do tend to bullshit.

[ Not that Peter has any room to complain about that, considering he's practically made of bullshit.

He goes back to what he was doing, mouthing at the sensitive point just beneath Poe's jaw, tasting that faint trace of salt, feeling the rhythm of Poe's heartbeat against his lips. ]

"Droid," huh?

[ And he repeats it a little more experimentally, shifting so he's better settled between Poe's legs. ]

[ A light scoff. ]

Look who's talkin'.

[ Like they're not both pro bullshitters.

But Peter is back to leaving those trails of heat along every tantalizingly sensitive inch of Poe's throat, and his breathing is quicker, his pulse thumping faster.

It's hard not to get ahead of himself when he even likes the simple ways Peter touches him. ]

Yeah, "droid." Got a better suggestion?

Still not criticizing. Just testing.

[ He feels the way Poe's pulse jumps, hears the way his breathing roughens, and he smiles to himself, nipping at the juncture of Poe's shoulder and neck. ]

So what kinda wild shit are you getting up to?

And better question – why am I just now finding out about this?

Not my fault you weren’t asking.

[ In Peter’s defense, their hookups are usually pretty spontaneous and in the wake of plenty of drinks. They’re on tight schedules, and things just sort of happen – which is great, but more about “where’s the lube,” and not “check out this leash and collar.”

That standard fare is about what Poe indulges in regularly, anyway. He doesn’t tend to have the hours he might want to dedicate to really getting down with someone, considering most of his life is spent ducking the First Order and running missions for the Resistance.

That kind of takes priority over kinky sex. ]

I like how you think I have time to get up to much.

[ His tone is light, hedged by a breathy laugh, though it betrays the reality of how he scrapes by these days: a commander of the Resistance, not a foot soldier or volunteer mechanic. He has places to be more often than not.

Of course, in his earlier days running drugs and other smuggling-related or dubious activities, hedonism tended to go hand-in-hand with his life. He’s done a lot of growing up since then – even if his proclivities haven’t necessarily changed. ]

You've apparently got enough time to have a safeword picked out.

[ And he points it out brightly.

He pauses, propping himself up with both hands pressed into the bed, bracketing Poe's head. ]

And we've definitely got time now. And last I checked, I was supposed to be distracting you from my seriously shitty time management skills.

So...

[ Peter trails off, cutting Poe an expectant look. ]

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