For genprompt_bingo
Dec. 16th, 2017 01:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: Perfect
Summary: Poe thinks Ben’s perfect.
Prompt: Freckles
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: Mostly practicing for the backstory of a TLJ rewrite that I may or may not get to. (Though the spoilers make me more than a bit sad) Also, Lisalicious on AO3 inspired me to write more Darkpilot.
Of all the things that Ben’s conflicted about, his freckles are one of them. While a part of him thinks that they’re pretty interesting, another part of him doesn’t like them. They seem almost like warts, or pimples. They’re doubly strange considering that Ben is otherwise rather pale. More than a bit rather, actually. It’s odd.
Poe loves them, though. Even as he kisses over another freckle, Ben can’t help but smile. “What are you doing?” he says.
Poe withdraws, though he kisses his fingers, presses them to a freckle. “They’re beautiful,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”
“My freckles?”
“Yeah.”
Ben doesn’t think that anyone’s really called him beautiful before. No one’s called him ugly, but he knows he’s, at minimum, a bit goofy-looking. His face, his large ears, his large nose...everything about him is too large. And yet Poe looks at him like he’s some sort of angel fallen from Iego.
Poe doesn’t know that he’s an angel, at least to Ben.
“Why, really?”
“Well,” Poe said, “They’re just...part of you. They’re details.” He grins. “You’re so beautiful. It’s like every part of you is beautiful.”
Ben bites his lip. There are moments when Poe can just say the right things at the right times — too many of those moments, actually. “I’m...”
Poe kisses him. It’s light, it’s tender and gentle. “You’re beautiful,” he says, and Ben can believe it. Just for a moment, he can believe it. Maybe there’s a filter through which those in love can view their beloved, and parts that the beloved dislikes are seen as beautiful. Flaws that seem enormous and unlovable seeming more like quirks. In Poe’s eyes, he’s perfect — Poe doesn’t know that in Ben’s eyes, he’s the exact same thing.
Poe asks him if he can go further, and Ben obliges. He kisses Ben’s throat, gently, non-erotically, and Ben sighs. Poe draws away, and there’s something in his eyes that suggests that Ben is the most beautiful being he’s ever seen.
“I...” Ben doesn’t know what he wants to say. I don’t deserve this? I don’t deserve you?
“You’re perfect to me, Ben,” Poe says, softly. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.”
And Ben — in that moment, Ben can believe it.
Summary: Poe thinks Ben’s perfect.
Prompt: Freckles
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author’s Notes: Mostly practicing for the backstory of a TLJ rewrite that I may or may not get to. (Though the spoilers make me more than a bit sad) Also, Lisalicious on AO3 inspired me to write more Darkpilot.
Of all the things that Ben’s conflicted about, his freckles are one of them. While a part of him thinks that they’re pretty interesting, another part of him doesn’t like them. They seem almost like warts, or pimples. They’re doubly strange considering that Ben is otherwise rather pale. More than a bit rather, actually. It’s odd.
Poe loves them, though. Even as he kisses over another freckle, Ben can’t help but smile. “What are you doing?” he says.
Poe withdraws, though he kisses his fingers, presses them to a freckle. “They’re beautiful,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”
“My freckles?”
“Yeah.”
Ben doesn’t think that anyone’s really called him beautiful before. No one’s called him ugly, but he knows he’s, at minimum, a bit goofy-looking. His face, his large ears, his large nose...everything about him is too large. And yet Poe looks at him like he’s some sort of angel fallen from Iego.
Poe doesn’t know that he’s an angel, at least to Ben.
“Why, really?”
“Well,” Poe said, “They’re just...part of you. They’re details.” He grins. “You’re so beautiful. It’s like every part of you is beautiful.”
Ben bites his lip. There are moments when Poe can just say the right things at the right times — too many of those moments, actually. “I’m...”
Poe kisses him. It’s light, it’s tender and gentle. “You’re beautiful,” he says, and Ben can believe it. Just for a moment, he can believe it. Maybe there’s a filter through which those in love can view their beloved, and parts that the beloved dislikes are seen as beautiful. Flaws that seem enormous and unlovable seeming more like quirks. In Poe’s eyes, he’s perfect — Poe doesn’t know that in Ben’s eyes, he’s the exact same thing.
Poe asks him if he can go further, and Ben obliges. He kisses Ben’s throat, gently, non-erotically, and Ben sighs. Poe draws away, and there’s something in his eyes that suggests that Ben is the most beautiful being he’s ever seen.
“I...” Ben doesn’t know what he wants to say. I don’t deserve this? I don’t deserve you?
“You’re perfect to me, Ben,” Poe says, softly. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.”
And Ben — in that moment, Ben can believe it.
