#poelya

"Oh, so you could get turned into some giant kowakian monkey-lizard's dinner, is that it?" Volya snapped as his door hissed open. She helped him across the room and gently pushed him down onto his bed.

"I'm flattered you think I'd be enough of a meal for that thing, Spitfire."

Volya thumped him on the arm. "Not kriffin funny, Dameron."

She turned away with a glower on her face, heading to one of the cabinets to search for a medkit, probably. He knew she kept one in most of his quarters, tucked away just for emergencies.

Poe stood back up with a grunt, closed the distance between them. He rested his chin on her shoulder at the same time he snaked his arms around her waist, and instantly some of the tension ebbed from Volya's body. "I'm sorry I scared you."

Volya exhaled shakily before turning her head to look up at him. "You do that a lot."

"I know."

"You could stop making a habit of it."

"I really couldn't and we both know it," Poe said softly. The rest of the fire died out of Volya's eyes as she clutched one of his hands with her own. "But I'll always come home. Got a promise to keep, you know."

Her shoulders sagged as he pressed his lips to her temple. "You better never break it, flyboy."

--

But she'd start thinking about one thing — I said that I love Poe, does that mean I’m in love with him? — and then wind up in a dead end corridor, too distracted to pay attention to where she was going — or she’d start thinking about the Enshado and Malarus, and then she’d end up in an empty briefing room and it just snowballed from there, but all of her thoughts seemed to circle back to one starfighter pilot that’d quickly become an integral part of Volya’s life, who stirred up too many feelings for her to make sense of.

She knew that she loved him, knew that he was her best friend, knew that she looked forward to seeing him, that she’d desperately wanted him to kiss her on the two occasions he’d asked, before they’d been interrupted by Statura and later Threepio, because there was never time enough in the Resistance, not when Poe had as many duties as he did, and not when Volya was still trying to get back on her feet after the disaster that had been their last mission —

Caught up in her musings, and the private sense of triumph that this was finally the right path because that was definitely the General’s office, Volya didn’t notice when a door burst open on her right. What she did notice was the hand that shot out from within, because it wrapped around her elbow in a gentle yet firm grip, and hauled her inside.

A startled yelp fell from Volya’s lips as she staggered into the darkened room, tripping over her own feet at the abrupt change in direction, and colliding into the broad chest of her assailant. Just before the door slammed shut behind them, leaving them utterly in darkness, Volya caught a glimpse of inky black curls, twinkling brown eyes, a self-satisfied smile, and a familiar brown fighter jacket.

“Hey, Gorgeous.”

The term of endearment combined with the fact that her hands were still on Poe’s chest from where she’d fallen, and his on her waist where he’d steadied her, brought a rush of warmth to her cheeks that Volya hoped the darkness would cover. She swallowed, looking around Poe to try and figure out where they were: it took her eyes a minute to adjust to the lack of light, but she was able to make out an empty metal rack (probably meant to hold supplies) and that there were a bunch of crates shoved around them, leaving only one corner of the cramped closet properly open, which was where she and Poe were standing.

“Why are you hiding in a closet?” Volya asked, turning to face him again. To her dismay, even without a light source, Poe was still infuriatingly beautiful with his nearly boyish expression of enthusiasm, framed by soft, dark curls.

“Oh, there’s so many jokes I could go with for that one,” Poe laughed.

Volya rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide her exasperation, and reminded him sternly, “Your message said to meet you at Leia’s office, and the last I checked, the General didn’t operate out of a supply closet, so I ask again, why are we standing in one?”

“Ah, well…” Poe said, looking up at the ceiling and then around at the tiny cramped room before back at her, his grin turning sheepish. “I figured there’s at least a 75% chance Threepio and Statura won’t find us here.” 

Volya’s breath caught briefly in the back of her throat, but she shook her head, a somewhat dry scoff escaping her lips. “You can’t be that eager to kiss me, so what is it really? Is something wrong, am I in trouble or something?” Maybe he’d pulled her in here to let her down gently, maybe Leia had decided to ground her or take her off the squadron or —

Poe’s smile faded instantly at the skepticism in Volya’s voice, his brow furrowing — very nearly started to tell her that, yes, he was that eager to kiss her, but instead asked, “Why would you be in trouble?”

Truthfully, Volya had no idea what she could have done, but she could think of at least one thing that could get her reprimanded: “For a start, I might be late to an important meeting with the General because my Commander decided to drag me into a closet.”

“For privacy purposes only!” Poe exclaimed. Then, moving closer to her and raising an eyebrow, “Unless you want us to get interrupted again.”

“I very much do not want that,” Volya agreed, poking Poe lightly in the chest. As much as Poe was trying to play this off by flirting with her, she could tell something was genuinely weighing on his mind, felt the heaviness of it in his Force Signature. “But I also know something’s up, so what is it, Poe?”

“You heard that Leia wants me to go to that Senatorial meeting with her, right?”

“I think I distinctly remember Threepio mentioning something about one this morning, yes,” Volya replied, thinking of how the protocol droid had turned up at the firing range to remind Poe of his meeting with Leia, and her own embarrassment over having been caught about to kiss Poe by one of Leia’s most trusted advisors and closest friends. 

Poe picked up one of her hands, spanning his palm around her wrist, before sliding it up to curl her fingers into a fist, lightly brushing his thumb over her knuckles once before pressing a little more firmly against her skin. “As it turns out, I’ve got room for one more on my invitation,” he began slowly, searching her expression carefully for any signs of hesitation. When he found none, he gave her a crooked grin. “I was kind of hoping you’d come with me.”

Volya bit her bottom lip as a smile lit up her face, “You dragged me into a supply closet so you could ask me on a date?”

Poe hesitated for a second before trying to defend himself: “It was this or ask you out on a date in front of Leia. Out of the two, this seemed like the more reasonable option.”

Volya dissolved into giggles and dropped her forehead against his chest. Poe didn’t drop her hand, just held it between their chests. Maker, he was - he was so fucking ridiculous, it wasn’t even funny how endearing she found him. Once her laughter subsided enough for her to speak again, Volya managed to get out, “It was definitely not the most reasonable option listed, but it was the most…you option that you could’ve thought of.”

Poe shrugged, “I live to entertain. So…what do you say?” He tried not to sound nervous, but he figured he’d failed at it. 

Volya looked up at him and his heart stuttered in his chest at the adoration he found in her eyes - it was the same awestruck expression he’d found on her face when she’d seen the stars for the first time in an unpolluted sky. The fact that she could look at him like that made something warm stir in his chest - and when she spoke, her voice was low and soft, “There’s nowhere I wouldn’t go with you.”

It never failed to knock him off course when Volya said things like that, because she always said them readily, like the words she strung together with precise intention were simply facts and not promises that always left him spinning out in disbelief — and of course, even when it was imperative that he tell her the same, Poe could never find the words.

His gaze slipped from her wide brown eyes and down to her lips. She was biting down nervously on her bottom lip — much too hard, if the way it was whitening was any indicator. Without thinking, Poe brought his other hand up between them to brush his thumb at her bottom lip and whispered, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

It worked, sort of, because Volya’s teeth disappeared as her breath hitched slightly at his touch. Realizing what he’d done, Poe drew back, feeling electrified, and started to apologize when Volya shifted on the balls of her feet, trying to match her height to his a little better. “Third time’s the charm, right?”

She was echoing his words from this morning, after she’d almost kissed him on the firing range, and suddenly Poe found the answer he needed: if he couldn’t find the words to tell her, he could show her, if she wanted. 

Praying that no one in high command would somehow sense what he was about to do and interfere again, Poe moved cautiously as he closed the gap between them. He released her hand, still caught between their chests, and let his palm slide up her bare arm up to her shoulder, then to the back of her neck — careful to avoid brushing her lekku — and then lifted his other hand up to press the pads of his fingers to the edge of her jawline, tipping her head back slightly into the cup of his hand at the base of her neck, to properly look her in the eyes. “This okay?”

Volya nodded slightly, overwhelmed by his gentle touches and by the promise of what would happen next. She couldn’t stop drinking in the expression on his face as he looked at her, not missing the way his gaze kept dropping back to her lips and back up again —  the sight of it was making butterflies erupt low in her belly.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Volya admitted quietly, a thread of nerves in her voice: she didn't want him to be disappointed.

Poe barely seemed to consider this — then again, he did know he was her first in the romance department, so perhaps he’d already assumed as such — and gave her a winning smile as he replied, “That’s okay. I’ve never kissed a Jedi before.”

Volya smiled again as his hand slid down from her neck down her back, warm and expansive as he drew her up into his personal space, slowly dipping down to meet her in the middle. He paused as their noses brushed, searched for any last second hesitation in Volya’s eyes, and when he found none, pressed his lips tentatively against hers in a quick brush to test the waters — wanting to give Volya a chance to figure out if this was enough for now, or if she wanted more.

He pulled back a fraction of an inch, watched her as she studied his face with the same intensity she had when she'd first familiarized herself with the controls of her X-Wing, and then she pushed herself back up on her tiptoes, cradling his cheek and kissing him again, and Poe fell back into her orbit without complaint.

Volya didn’t immediately close her eyes, but Poe did. His eyelashes were long and dark, brushing against the tip of his cheekbones; his brow was scrunched up in soft concentration as he lost himself in the kiss, his mouth moving soft and warm against her own. Her eyes finally fluttered shut as one of his hands ended up on her waist, twisted in the fabric of her tunic, and Volya found herself wishing there wasn’t any barrier between them, wanting his skin on hers. 

She sighed at the thought and slid her hand up to the back of his head, plunging her fingers into his curls, delighted by the fact that his hair was every bit as soft as it looked, silky strands tangling between her digits. Poe hummed appreciatively against her mouth, taking a slight step forward to kiss her more soundly, Volya’s back gently hitting the wall, until all she knew was Poe’s frame caging her in, keeping her safe as he continued to kiss her in a way that had her weak at the knees.

When they finally pulled away for air, he kept his face pressed against hers, still holding onto her, the only sounds in the room being their laboured breathing and the faint sounds filtering in from the rest of the base, which might as well have been in an entirely different universe for all Volya cared right now, because hers was centered entirely on the man in front of her, with flushed cheeks and swollen lips and hair ruffled from where she’d messed it up.

Eventually, Poe asked, “So…did I make it a good one?”

Volya huffed a small laugh, then muffled it by pressing her lips together so she could pretend that she had to mull it over. She didn’t make him wait long, though, and dropped one hand to his chest. “Yeah, you did. It was wonderful, especially since we didn’t get interrupted by anyone. Just one complaint, though.”

“What’s that?”

Volya leaned in, quickly kissing him again, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “You stopped.”

Poe laughed, bumping their noses together. “Trust me, I don’t want to. But I am actually supposed to bring you to Leia’s office so you can talk about the meeting.”

“Guess you’ll just have to make up for it later, flyboy,” Volya said, brushing past him to open the door and step out -

Poe’s hand shot out, catching her gently by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks. When she looked back at him, he seemed hesitant, trying to parse his thoughts together. Finally, he said, “There’s nowhere I’d go without you, too. And if I ever have to, if I ever have to leave you for anything — I’ll come back. I promise.”

Volya sucked in a breath, “I know.”

Poe grinned then, a bright and dazzling thing that she wished she could bottle and keep in her memory forever, and then he stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “C’mon, let’s get you to the General. If she asks, just blame me.”

“Oh, I will,” Volya assured him, stepping out of the supply closet, Poe following closely at her heels as they made the rest of the trip to Leia’s office. After a few seconds of silence, Volya giggled despite herself.

“What is it?” Poe asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“Just thinking about how embarrassing it would’ve been for both of us if we’d been caught climbing out of the supply closet.”