So who talks first? | Calibrations

[happybeeps]

WHO: Poe Dameron, OPEN
WHERE: Poe's Calibration room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: 3 June - 10 June
WARNINGS: Torture, War, Weapons of Mass Destruction



You step out into a hangar, half sheltered, but open to the air along one side. The sky is blue, and in the distance there's scattered chatter from resistance members passing by as Poe and BB-8 work. Poe's perched atop the broken wing of his X-wing, scorch marks on her belly suggesting they'd recently come out of a tough scrape.

Poe's still half in his flight suit, the upper half tied round his waist, his old jacket sitting off to the side, draped over a ladder rung with care. There's scattered tools and wires to navigate, a makeshift workbench set up with his helmet and blaster abandoned there, next to his data pad which flashes at him with some unread message, though Poe seems to be pointedly ignoring it. Looking quite out of place, there's a tooka doll, not the sort of sentiment one might associate with Poe, and beside it, and old model of an A-Wing.

Comments

[happybeeps]

Poe laughed softly, shrugging a shoulder, not needing much coaxing at all. His lips parted with an eager sigh. Mindscape or not, it's been too long. The cockpit doesn't leave them much room, but Poe tried to make the most of it, hand shifting to palm him through his pants with an encouraging groan. They didn't have much time left before they got spit back out into the real world.

[in_extremis]

That made Tony tense, snickering his surprise for the boldness of that grope into Poe's mouth as his shoulders curled a little protectively, but nowhere else really to go. Even in that position, he could feel the controls digging into his back, thighs caught between Poe's hips and the unyielding press of the pilot's seat. He could barely reach between them himself, settling for grabbing Poe by the elbow to still his hand as Tony's laugh became a stuttering, hitched breath. The stress of that bunker had made it impossible to even get hard enough for a brief distraction, so it wasn't a particularly convincing argument when Tony managed to ease himself back enough to mutter, "Ah...not that I don't appreciate the initiative, believe me..." He had been more than willing to encourage Poe's initiative thus far, and licking his lips didn't stop him from a taking a brief intermission to lean back in for another lingering kiss that he hummed his appreciation for. Breathlessly, he continued, "But I feel like we're going to run into some crippling resource issues pretty fast, we didn't anticipate this level of, ah, growth."

[happybeeps]

Poe backed off almost immediately, flashing an apologetic smile and biting at his lip before indulging in that further kiss. He gave a sigh of acknowledgement, breathing a faint laugh through his nose.

"It always seems like a better idea than it turns out to be," he agreed, glancing round the cockpit. Not nearly enough room to really enjoy themselves.

[in_extremis]

"Always?" Tony picked out, sitting up taller then as though with that word Poe had offended his legacy. What is was was a challenge, but Tony said, "What other hussies are you bringing back to your place?" so get a read on what high bar he had to cross to make himself the cockpit makeout standard to strive for.

[happybeeps]

He laughed, biting at his lip and giving a shrug, trying to look at least a little sheepish. "I mean...the risk of death is a pretty effective aphrodisiac," he excused, gesturing about the hangar.