For allbingo
Dec. 24th, 2021 08:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: I Always Loved You Darling (And I Always Will)
Summary: In a rare instance of the Resistance and First Order celebrating fete together, Poe and Kylo exchange gifts.
Prompt: Christmas in the Wild
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
No one expected that the Resistance and the First Order would be celebrating fete together, but here they were, if only out of some idea of a temporary truce.
Poe, to his credit, tried to be civil towards the other people at the fete party, which was quite a feat considering that they were First Order. Then again, not everybody in the First Order was like Hux or Phasma. Poe watched Finn interacting animatedly with other stormtroopers in the First Order, who just seemed happy that they found someone who’d broken out of the First Order’s hold. (It didn’t make sense why Ben didn’t just stop the whole conscripting of child soldiers. After all, he was the Supreme Leader, wasn’t he?)
Among other people, though, he almost wished Ben (yes, he called himself Kylo Ren, but Poe couldn’t lead himself to let go of Ben) was here. It was a stupid thought, given that they’d had intermittent encounters and Ben didn’t seem up for turning to the Light any time soon. It was a stupid thought, given that Ben had tortured Poe, killed Han Solo, killed an entire village, among other things. But it was something that Poe wanted nonetheless. He thought of past fetes, past Life Days, and how Ben had been happy then —
“I thought you’d be with your squadron.”
Ben’s voice. Poe knew that voice anywhere. He was surprised to see Ben still dressed in his usual black attire (then again, what did he expect?), let alone being there at all.
“I’m surprised you showed up at all,” Poe said. Then, “And you couldn’t even wear a damn sweater?”
“Oh, please,” Ben said wryly. “I think I had enough tacky clothing with Snoke’s glittery gold bathrobe.”
“A bathrobe, huh? I guess it kind of looked like that." Damn Ben and still managing to be funny even when he was determined to be as shitty as possible.
Ben looked like he was about to laugh. About to. Then, "I thought considering the circumstances, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Not quite right,” Poe said. “I don’t like your life choices, I don’t like what you turned into, but…it’s not that easy just to forget what we…y’know.”
Had. It almost didn’t need to be said. What they had.
"Sentiment, then.” Ben didn’t smile, but his voice sounded softer.
“Yeah. I’m sentimental to the core; what can I say?”
***
“By the way, Poe — I quite like your fete sweater.”
There wasn’t any sarcasm in Ben’s voice, now that Poe listened to it. A green sweater that some found a bit tacky, but Ben…well, for some reason, the I-hate-anything-not-black-clothes seemed to like it.
“Well…thanks.” Poe chuckled a little as he spoke. “I mean, you know — tis the season for sweaters and such…”
“It’s preferable to that dreadful orange flightsuit.”
“Hey, don’t knock the orange ‘till you’ve tried it.”
There was some degree of silence, just then. Poe knew what it meant. Ben…he was probably making up reasons not to go back to the Light Side. What exactly was he so afraid of, not going back to the Light?
"Green suits you,” Ben finally said.
“You could…join in the fun.”
Ben sighed. “I think Snoke’s ruined cheerful colors for me.”
“Not that. I mean…you could try anything. Fete cookies. Fete carols. Anything.”
“I admit…” Ben trailed off, just for a moment, like he was afraid to admit what was on his mind. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Wait…so fete in the First Order — ”
“It was…acknowledged, not so much celebrated,” Ben said. “I believe Snoke brushed it off as ‘unbecoming of a Knight of Ren’ but…he’s not exactly here now.”
Poe wondered if Ben secretly thought Rey did him a favor killing Snoke.
“Okay, Ben…kriff what Snoke says. No harm in letting your hair down.”
***
Ben seemed to go straight for the eggnog, after adding at least a pinch of alcohol to it.
“You know, usually it’s other people spiking others’ eggnog. Or something,” Poe said.
“Call it a form of…preparing myself.” Ben took a sip. “It’s quite rich. I almost forgot how rich it is.”
“You’re telling me.”
"You know,” Ben said, taking a raspberry bar from one of the trays and nibbling at it, “I almost forgot how good these are.”
"They’re wonderful, are you kidding?”
“They are.” Ben paused. "I don’t believe that Snoke particularly cared for sweet things either.”
“His loss.” Poe said.
“Well, that’s the least of his losses…”
It felt reassuring, hearing Ben make a joke. It reminded Poe of how much he’d missed something like that, really. Stars, there were many things he missed. Like when was the last time he’d heard Ben’s genuine laugh? He found he missed it, genuinely so. Ben wasn’t evil-laughing like Palpatine (thank the stars) but he seemed so very serious, save for the occasional deadpan quip.
Stars, Poe missed Ben Solo, more than he’d admit to anyone.
"Poe,” Ben said, uncharacteristically gently. “No crying in fete.”
“There’s nothing wrong with men getting emotional.”
“There isn’t, and I’d be throwing stones in my transparisteel house if I said so. But you don’t deserve to be mournful on fete.”
Poe swallowed. "I guess it’s normal to be a little sad around the holidays.”
“Yes, but you deserve to be happy.” Ben didn’t need to say that he’d contributed to Poe’s sadness in quite a few ways. It was implied.
“So do you.”
Poe wouldn’t say he wanted anyone unhappy. Ben, being his childhood best friend turned enemy, was no exception.
***
Ben tried, at least, to join in the festivities. He tried. They were awkward gestures, attempts to dance with Poe that felt like he was just getting the hang of just hanging out with people again. He was practicing, at least. Poe was proud of him for that, at bare minimum.
He tried. Poe would say that it still made him smile, in spite of everything, to see Ben at least trying.
***
It was as the night was closing out (about to head into the next day of celebrations. Poe already dreaded the next day), that Ben gave Poe a gift. A black scarf. Black, of course, but it felt so very much like Ben, too much, actually.
“I was thinking,” Ben said. “I would give this to you. Just to keep you warm. Especially this winter…”
He was stammering, trying to find some sort of justification for, of all things, giving a fete present. There was something about it that made Poe smile.
“Ben,” he said, and he didn’t miss how Ben actually did flinch a bit at being called by his old name, “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
He gave Ben something of his own. A painting he’d done, of the both of them.
“I hope you like it,” Poe said. “That way, you always have a way to…” To remember me.
Ben smiled, genuinely, warmly. “Thank you.”
Kylo Ren kept the painting safe in his quarters on the Steadfast. Poe, meanwhile, wore that scarf everywhere he could — it felt like Ben was with him, at least.
Summary: In a rare instance of the Resistance and First Order celebrating fete together, Poe and Kylo exchange gifts.
Prompt: Christmas in the Wild
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
No one expected that the Resistance and the First Order would be celebrating fete together, but here they were, if only out of some idea of a temporary truce.
Poe, to his credit, tried to be civil towards the other people at the fete party, which was quite a feat considering that they were First Order. Then again, not everybody in the First Order was like Hux or Phasma. Poe watched Finn interacting animatedly with other stormtroopers in the First Order, who just seemed happy that they found someone who’d broken out of the First Order’s hold. (It didn’t make sense why Ben didn’t just stop the whole conscripting of child soldiers. After all, he was the Supreme Leader, wasn’t he?)
Among other people, though, he almost wished Ben (yes, he called himself Kylo Ren, but Poe couldn’t lead himself to let go of Ben) was here. It was a stupid thought, given that they’d had intermittent encounters and Ben didn’t seem up for turning to the Light any time soon. It was a stupid thought, given that Ben had tortured Poe, killed Han Solo, killed an entire village, among other things. But it was something that Poe wanted nonetheless. He thought of past fetes, past Life Days, and how Ben had been happy then —
“I thought you’d be with your squadron.”
Ben’s voice. Poe knew that voice anywhere. He was surprised to see Ben still dressed in his usual black attire (then again, what did he expect?), let alone being there at all.
“I’m surprised you showed up at all,” Poe said. Then, “And you couldn’t even wear a damn sweater?”
“Oh, please,” Ben said wryly. “I think I had enough tacky clothing with Snoke’s glittery gold bathrobe.”
“A bathrobe, huh? I guess it kind of looked like that." Damn Ben and still managing to be funny even when he was determined to be as shitty as possible.
Ben looked like he was about to laugh. About to. Then, "I thought considering the circumstances, you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Not quite right,” Poe said. “I don’t like your life choices, I don’t like what you turned into, but…it’s not that easy just to forget what we…y’know.”
Had. It almost didn’t need to be said. What they had.
"Sentiment, then.” Ben didn’t smile, but his voice sounded softer.
“Yeah. I’m sentimental to the core; what can I say?”
***
“By the way, Poe — I quite like your fete sweater.”
There wasn’t any sarcasm in Ben’s voice, now that Poe listened to it. A green sweater that some found a bit tacky, but Ben…well, for some reason, the I-hate-anything-not-black-clothes seemed to like it.
“Well…thanks.” Poe chuckled a little as he spoke. “I mean, you know — tis the season for sweaters and such…”
“It’s preferable to that dreadful orange flightsuit.”
“Hey, don’t knock the orange ‘till you’ve tried it.”
There was some degree of silence, just then. Poe knew what it meant. Ben…he was probably making up reasons not to go back to the Light Side. What exactly was he so afraid of, not going back to the Light?
"Green suits you,” Ben finally said.
“You could…join in the fun.”
Ben sighed. “I think Snoke’s ruined cheerful colors for me.”
“Not that. I mean…you could try anything. Fete cookies. Fete carols. Anything.”
“I admit…” Ben trailed off, just for a moment, like he was afraid to admit what was on his mind. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Wait…so fete in the First Order — ”
“It was…acknowledged, not so much celebrated,” Ben said. “I believe Snoke brushed it off as ‘unbecoming of a Knight of Ren’ but…he’s not exactly here now.”
Poe wondered if Ben secretly thought Rey did him a favor killing Snoke.
“Okay, Ben…kriff what Snoke says. No harm in letting your hair down.”
***
Ben seemed to go straight for the eggnog, after adding at least a pinch of alcohol to it.
“You know, usually it’s other people spiking others’ eggnog. Or something,” Poe said.
“Call it a form of…preparing myself.” Ben took a sip. “It’s quite rich. I almost forgot how rich it is.”
“You’re telling me.”
"You know,” Ben said, taking a raspberry bar from one of the trays and nibbling at it, “I almost forgot how good these are.”
"They’re wonderful, are you kidding?”
“They are.” Ben paused. "I don’t believe that Snoke particularly cared for sweet things either.”
“His loss.” Poe said.
“Well, that’s the least of his losses…”
It felt reassuring, hearing Ben make a joke. It reminded Poe of how much he’d missed something like that, really. Stars, there were many things he missed. Like when was the last time he’d heard Ben’s genuine laugh? He found he missed it, genuinely so. Ben wasn’t evil-laughing like Palpatine (thank the stars) but he seemed so very serious, save for the occasional deadpan quip.
Stars, Poe missed Ben Solo, more than he’d admit to anyone.
"Poe,” Ben said, uncharacteristically gently. “No crying in fete.”
“There’s nothing wrong with men getting emotional.”
“There isn’t, and I’d be throwing stones in my transparisteel house if I said so. But you don’t deserve to be mournful on fete.”
Poe swallowed. "I guess it’s normal to be a little sad around the holidays.”
“Yes, but you deserve to be happy.” Ben didn’t need to say that he’d contributed to Poe’s sadness in quite a few ways. It was implied.
“So do you.”
Poe wouldn’t say he wanted anyone unhappy. Ben, being his childhood best friend turned enemy, was no exception.
***
Ben tried, at least, to join in the festivities. He tried. They were awkward gestures, attempts to dance with Poe that felt like he was just getting the hang of just hanging out with people again. He was practicing, at least. Poe was proud of him for that, at bare minimum.
He tried. Poe would say that it still made him smile, in spite of everything, to see Ben at least trying.
***
It was as the night was closing out (about to head into the next day of celebrations. Poe already dreaded the next day), that Ben gave Poe a gift. A black scarf. Black, of course, but it felt so very much like Ben, too much, actually.
“I was thinking,” Ben said. “I would give this to you. Just to keep you warm. Especially this winter…”
He was stammering, trying to find some sort of justification for, of all things, giving a fete present. There was something about it that made Poe smile.
“Ben,” he said, and he didn’t miss how Ben actually did flinch a bit at being called by his old name, “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
He gave Ben something of his own. A painting he’d done, of the both of them.
“I hope you like it,” Poe said. “That way, you always have a way to…” To remember me.
Ben smiled, genuinely, warmly. “Thank you.”
Kylo Ren kept the painting safe in his quarters on the Steadfast. Poe, meanwhile, wore that scarf everywhere he could — it felt like Ben was with him, at least.
