ladyofleithian | For trope

Title: Right Here In His Arms

Summary: In which Poe has nightmares, and Ben wants to help.

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Notes: I really do apologize for the entendre bit in here. It seems Ben and Poe both have an immature sense of humor. Or I do, or both. Either way, I'm sorry.

-- cities in flames, the smell of smoke all but clogging Poe's nostrils, clogging his throat. It was one of those things that registered and yet didn't quite register with dreams, the matter of senses --

-- one of the Knights of Ren, dropping a grenade --

-- injured civilians, everywhere --

Poe jolted awake in that moment, gasping for breath, shaking and sweaty and trying not to scream. It was looking around his room that he could reassure himself that yes, he was all right, yes, he was in his own room where he belonged, the X-wing models that he had never managed to quite throw out were proof enough of that. And then there was Ben, who had jolted awake with him, like he had sensed Poe's nightmare. Had he? He must have, actually.

"Poe?" Ben's voice, soft. "What happened?"

"Just another bad dream." Poe sighed; already, he needed to do something to take his mind off it. Making X-wing models sounded like a good idea. Maybe he would get sick of them one day, but it definitely wasn't tomorrow, or for that matter, tonight.

Even as he glued the wings on, he could feel Ben's eyes on him, that same sort of worshipful gaze that seemed to come so easily to Ben. It was like everything Poe did was wonderful. Poe couldn't say he agreed; he was only sentient, not everything he did was interesting, but it was still lovely knowing that Ben didn't ridicule his line of work or his hobbies, or anything else. You are a precious being, Ben seemed to say without actually saying anything at all. He looked up from where he was gluing the wings on and said, "Am I that interesting?"

"It's just wonderful watching you work," Ben says. "I don't think you've gotten back to making those models...for a while, really?"

"Yeah." There was something soothing about just feeling the material in his hand and knowing he was safe in the house that he and Ben shared with BB-8. "Must have been nineteen the last time I did it?"

"Yeah." Ben watched him, smiled again. "You know, I always enjoyed watching you work with your hands."

Poe couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. Ben furrowed his brow. "I don't...oh. Oh, I mean...you're very good with your hands in other areas too. Lots of areas."

Poe laughed even harder until tears were running down his face, and Ben was chuckling with him. BB-8 rolled past in that moment, paused, clearly befuddled by what exactly his master and his master's lover were laughing about, before letting out a beep that Poe knew translated to "Humans!"

"Sorry, buddy." Poe wiped his eyes. "It's a human thing."

BB-8 beeped softly. YOU'RE FORGIVEN. He rolled away, leaving Ben and Poe both recovering from their laughing fit.

"Entendres aside," Ben said. "There's just something fascinating about the way you work. I know you really love your ship."

"She and I have been through a lot together."

"I can see that. And you really love ships in general, don't you?"

"All of them," Poe said.

"Could I work on them with you?"

"Sure. You just have to be really careful."

It was while they were both making model ships that Ben said, "So what happened?"

"Nightmare," Poe said. "Pretty bad one."

"Poe..." Ben's face was filled with sheer sadness.

"I get them a lot."

"But it's not right. I want you to be happy."

"When I'm with you, I am happy," Poe said. "I really am."

They continued to work on the ships, Ben working on the wings as well. Finally, Poe said, "I saw...stars, Ben, one of the Knights was there. What they did -- "

"What did they do?"

"Killed civilians," Poe said. Even the memory of the bodies, the stench of dead flesh, stumbling through looking for injured, any injured, made bile rise in his throat.

"Those monsters..."

"Yeah, they are. That's why we have to fight them. They are monsters, plain and simple, and people...people can't keep getting hurt. Every time I close my eyes I see what they've done..."

Ben put down his model X-wing and moved over towards Poe, put a hand on his shoulder. Something about that large, graceful hand always made Poe feel secure no matter what. "You're doing the right thing, Poe," he said. "I wish the Order were as brave as you."

Poe smiled. "I do my best."

It was after they had finished their models and Poe had a glass of warm blue milk (which still tasted terrible, but you made do with what you had) that they fell back asleep in the same bed. Poe hummed softly even as Ben moved towards him. "Do you want me to hold you?"

"Please."

Ben's arms encircled him, all but engulfed him in the embrace, and Poe sighed in contentment. Ben's body was so big, so protective, and knowing how small he was next to Ben gave Poe a strange thrill whenever Ben held him. And Ben held him so gently, kissed him so tenderly, it was almost as if he feared Poe would break. Poe hated being treated like he was fragile, but the feeling of his body against Ben's own was wonderful. He sank into sleep, knowing that for the moment he was safe, here, in Ben's arms.