shadowglitter | PSL || poe/odin

where it all began

link to the confession in ur reply ok

[ooc: directly after this confession DIVERGENT AU TIME.]

The first couple of sentences sounded relatively normal. It isn't the first time that Odin has tried to say something and stumbled on several different starts before he finally came to the point. 'Have you ever' could refer to a lot of things, as did 'do you' and 'what would' but as soon as the words 'if things were different somehow' come out, he feels his stomach drop and his heart stop.

He knew this conversation was coming eventually. He was hoping that it wouldn't be here, on this station, in front of the entire damn world. His gut twisted horribly between guilt and something else that he had a hard time recognizing, at first.

Longing. A deep, aching longing like he was looking at something that he knew was hypothetically possible but also something that he couldn't have.

"Odin--" he starts, but he stops, because he can almost hear the echo of it in his ears, almost picture it running out over all the televisions in America, and he hates it. And he hates it not least because he can't even use Odin's real name. He curses, quietly, and then says - to his suit, rather than to Odin - "Comms systems off, please. Yeah I know it's supposed to be a constant feed b---" Before he finished the sentence, however, the suit agreed to his request and suddenly the feed went silent.

All that came across was a quiet line of static.

He moved, though, and gestured for Odin to lean in at the same time he did, until their helmets touched. "Comms off for you, too," he said to Odin's suit, though his voice sounded further away than it had on the comms - almost like it was coming through water. The sound transported by touch rather than radio waves.

"Owain, Listen. I--" But he didn't even get more than three words in before the comms system in his suit slowly hummed back to life. He swore again as he heard it - and then Odin's - systems resumed broadcast. Even though he could talk to the suits, and even though the suits were happy to work with him, the network they were connected to overrode the command.

That wasn't going to work.

But he didn't pull back. Instead, his glove tighted around the back of Odin's helmet, holding him in place.

"I care about you a lot. Okay? I do. And I - fuck, Odin, I want you to be happy, but I- this isn't something -" He cut off again, feeling almost queasy and heartbroken and split between two minds.

He knew better.

"I could disappear tomorrow, Odin." His voice was so low it was almost a whisper.

There's anxiety building in him with each passing second Poe spends communicating with the comm system, like a shadow in the water always swimming closer. His veins feel like strings, taut enough to make his body shake like it's cold, and he clamps his fists down to keep himself steady. He doesn't care about the rest of the world, about what they might be saying about him - he just cares about Poe, about what he's thinking, and all this work the pilot is putting into keeping things private for the both of them just feels like he's trying to make whatever terrible blow he's about to land hit a little softer.

He feels a surge of hope when they make contact, helmet to helmet. It burns even brighter, enough to make him stare at Poe wide-eyed and disbelieving, when he says his real name.

It sinks to the pit of his stomach, curling up, almost withering away under guilt and shame and fear with the rest of him, but--

--then Poe's keeping him close, staring at him with a shuddering, almost broken determination, and Odin is completely taken over by this voice in his head telling him to take a chance, to push harder, further, to walk closer to the edge of that cliff that might kill him if he falls.

"I don't--" He can't get the words out, too many of them stumbling over themselves to escape him at once. "I don't-- care. I could, too. We all could. That's not-- different to home. People-- die. People go."

He moves closer, closing his eyes, trying to get the tears to just stop hurting him as much as they are.

"You won't remember me. If you go. I won't, either. People don't remember, when they're ported out. I didn't know that, until really recently. You forget America." It hurts to say, but he has to say it. "If you disappeared-- I'd be okay. Because I know you wouldn't be trying to get back to me. You would be at home, fighting for the things you love, free without the weight of me at your back. That's-- sad, but it's-- okay? That's why I'm just--"

He takes a deep breath, wraps one arm around Poe's neck and keeps him there.

"If you turn me down, that's-- disappearing. I can't keep doing this. It's starting to hurt, not being able to be with you. And I don't-- I don't want you to go. I think, while we're here, before either of us die, or are gone, things could be okay, maybe. If you'll let them be."

It's not just sad. It's almost worse - the idea of actually letting himself commit to something and then just forget it. It twists in his stomach almost violently, tearing and twisting his expression.

He hates having to talk like this - even as much as he loved flying, he doesn't want to be up here. He wants to be on the ground, wants to be able to call Owain by his name.

His grip tightens, but the gloves fingers are too thick to do much more than slightly shrink the size of his fist, despite it.

"It will hurt more. It will. That's just - that's how that works." But there's not a lot of heat to the words. "And I don't - fuck, Odin, I don't want to forget you, alright? All that - You shouldn't have to--"

It is very difficult to put full sentences together, and he's incredibly aware of the fact that he can't just hold on to him, like he would, if they were on the ground. Just grip his shoulders and look him in the eye and say I can't do you to what my mom did to me but he is not capable of the grip and the words aren't in him.

This isn't how he wanted his confession to go, and he's all nervous limbs and scrambling hands as he grabs whatever part of Poe he can, just holding him closer and tighter like he's scared that if he doesn't he'll slip through his fingers and be gone.

"I'm not-- I'm not going to make myself miserable just so I can avoid getting hurt in the future!" He's panicking, now, so close to getting Poe to return his feelings, so close to making the pilot accept him as something more than whatever it is he's been to him until now. "I don't want to forget you, either, that's why I kept-- that's why I kept saying I'd save you, somehow, and I will, I'll find a way, but-- but-- but even if I don't! Even if I can't, even if the worst case scenario happens and I lose you, I want so much more of you than what I have right now! I don't want to-- miss out on that, on you. I'm not going to let you go just because you're afraid of this."

He takes a deep breath, digging his fingers into Poe's back, now, his arms tight around his waist, stuck to the shuttle through his boots alone.

"Don't decide that this'll be bad before we've even given this a shot. Please." He rests his helmet on Poe's, shutting his eyes, scared to look at him. "If you don't want me for me, then-- I get it. I don't want to force you to be with me if that's not what you want. But I spend so much time just dreaming of us being something strong and meaningful, and I'd give up the world for that, right now. Just fucking-- have me, for however long you'll have me."

"I'm not afraid," he retorts immediately, more automatic than out of any thought. It's a lie, even if he doesn't realise it. He is afraid. He's terrified. But he's long since convinced himself that avoiding a relationship isn't out of fear, but because it was sensible.

"Odin, this--" But he can't do this here. Not like this. He's too tactile for this, needs to be able to touch him to have this conversation. Words weren't accurate enough, and even though their faces felt so close, they live in their own little words - atmospheres separated by the void - and he... He needed to be breathing the same as as Odin, for this.

"Can we just - can we talk about this inside?"

Well, being sensible is fucking stupid, too, Dameron.

All this energy is crackling up through Odin like sparks, and he doesn't want to sit still. He wants to fucking run, he wants an open field he can stretch his legs in and just run and run and run until his knees are sore and his lungs are aching and everything has burned out of him except for a contented lethargy. Asking to go inside makes his heart sink, again, and he's convinced he's lost. He's sure that Poe wants to turn him down, send him on his way, ruin him without meaning to.

So - he resists. Petulantly.

"O... okay, but-- but I'm kind of scared if we go inside you're going to reject me? I'm really relying on this whole calm cosmic atmosphere we have going on to trick you into liking me."

"I just want to actually be able tobe there and this is --" he flailed a giant glove somewhat uselessly.

"I'm not saying no, Odin. You don't need to try to trick me into -- anything. I just want to actually talk face to face."

Fuck, that hand-flailing bullshit was cute. Fuck. Poe's cute. Fuck. Odin puts his head (helmet?) in his hands. He's gotta calm down. It's going to hurt so much more when he gets shot down if he starts thinking things like that.

"Okay. Okay, just-- don't... ugh."

He still feels anxious and queasy like he's marching to his own doom, but the last thing he wants to do is stop Poe from being comfortable, and honestly, he could use the personal touch, too. He steadily floats upright and brings Poe with him, dragging his feet to the airlock and heading inside.

He follows, silently, trying to run over all the reasons that this was a bad idea in his head and every single one of them sounded hollow. Walls he'd built up that turned out to be made out of eggshells.

He stripped out of the suit with the same kind of grim determination, looking more like he was about to go to war than start a conversation, but once he's completely free he pulls in a long breath.

He floated over to Odin, reaching out to grip his shoulders, and he felt solid and oddly warm and it made Poe's stomach churn.

"You know this is - a terrible mistake, right?" It's supposed to be a joke, but it came out too quiet.

Whatever fire and determination and tiny, lingering belief that this might actually end well dies in Odin during the silence as they remove their suits. He's misreading the air, too wrapped up in his anxiety to think things through, and he thinks Poe's mad at him, maybe, that this stony silence is his way of shutting Odin down without using words. It... hurts.

He's fidgeting with his suit even though he's already put it away, just smoothing out the sleeve and swallowing dryly, wanting something to do with his hands so he doesn't have to look at Poe. It's then, of course, that Poe floats over, grips him on the shoulders and - yeah, shuts him down, he thinks. Odin looks at the ground, tiny tears pricking at his eyes and already starting to fall. He hurriedly wipes them away, because they're the last god damn things he needs right now. He wishes he wasn't like this. Quick to be emotional over nothing, crying at twenty three years of age at the drop of a hat.

"If I thought--" His voice cracks, and he hates himself for it. "If I thought it was a terrible mistake, I wouldn't have told y--"

Edited 2017-11-25 06:05 (UTC)

The tears just sort of float - the surface tension of the water keeping them welling far longer in Odin's eyes than they would on earth.

Odin starts talking. Perhaps it would have been polite, to let him finish, but he couldn't. Not when he could actually see Odin's heart break in front of him. So instead of letting him continue, he let go of Odin's shoulder and slid his free hand back into Odin's hair, pulling him towards him and leaning in to take a slightly nervous kiss.

Odin can't see, the water in his eyes blurring things and covering the world in a glossy haze. When Poe pulls him closer, he thinks it's gonna be a reassuring, consoling hug, something platonic and kind and apologetic designed to make Odin feel loved even though he isn't. When Poe kisses him, though, he just-- freezes in place.

This feels different to the kisses they've had before. Whenever there had been emotion behind a kiss he'd shared with Poe, it had always felt - to Odin, at least - that he was just projecting what he wanted into the moment, hoping Poe felt for him something even close to what Odin felt so overwhelmed by. So this nervousness Poe was showing, something so different to the confidence he usually had in bed, it - kills him, a little. Brings him back to life at the same time.

He nervously reaches his hands up, puts one in Poe's hair and the other on his neck, feeling like Poe is still gonna jolt away from him as if he'd some-fucking-how misread the situation and ended up with the wrong idea. When that doesn't happen, Odin takes the hint to take the lead on the kiss, pushing forward, firm, locking his shaking fingers tighter in Poe's curls and deepening things just slightly, just enough to make this real. When he pulls back, he's still shaking from adrenaline and nerves, but there's a smile tugging at his lips that he's failing to pull back.

"Was-- um,"

He stares.

"Wait. What's--"

He stares harder.

"What?"

He runs his tongue over his lips, not quite able to look as casual as he wanted, in this situation. He didn't let go of Odin, though he did try to wipe some of those tears away. He shouldn't be a giant bundle of nerves - he was confident about basically everything else - but he couldn't stop it. He gave Odin a helpless half smile.

"Basically everything I do I a terrible idea." There was a pause, and the sheepish smile spread, crinkling his eyes. "Hasn't seemed to deter me yet."

It takes Odin a moment to process what Poe is trying to say, primarily because he has to systematically check and doublecheck every single word to make sure he's not misunderstanding something. He doesn't tear his eyes away, though, searching for something unreadable in Poe's expression that might tell him this is a-- joke, or a trick, or something, and--

When it clicks in, when that belief that Poe might actually be willing to give something a shot settles firmly into the forefront of his mind, Odin is beaming with joy. He wants to yell at the top of his lungs or conquer a mountain or fistfight a bear or something, but instead he just laughs, weak and nervous but so, so quietly happy.

"Holy shit, really? Holy-- holy shit, Poe!" He all but jumps through the air at Poe, launching from the ground with his toes and throwing his entire bodyweight against him. They drift back, a little, but Odin doesn't give a fuck, so focused as he is on pressing these quick, hurried kisses against the shorter man's lips and nose and forehead between all this exhilarated laughter that keeps swelling through him.

"I'm-- yeah! Me too! Big, dumb, shortsighted decisions are my specialty!" He hits his head on the ceiling and it slows their trajectory and he doesn't even give a fuck. "You're so fucking-- are you serious? Are you gonna do this with me? Wait, fuck, I shouldn't even be asking in case you back down! Don't back down. Don't back down!"

Of course, being the one that Odin jumps into, Poe hits the wall first - letting out a grunt because yeah, something just hit him in the spinal column. Ow. But he doesn't look like he's in pain. Instead he's just beaming back at Odin, chuckling through the myriad kisses.

"Yeah, I'm serious." His voice is a lot more quiet than Odin's, and he runs his fingers through the other man's hair.

"Not totally sure I haven't just, you know, doomed one or the both of us to suffering and misery, but..." He trailed off, leaning forward to press his forehead to Odin's, his voice so quiet that the show would struggle to keep the volume something other people could hear. Because this wasn't for them, damn it.

"... If you honestly-- if you think it's worth it, to try to be happy in the meantime? Then yeah. I want to try, too."

"Of course I do! Of course I do, you-- stupid. Stupid. Holy shit, you're so-- stupid. I can't-- god!" He pulls Poe as tightly to his chest as he can, kissing him on the top of his head and breathing in the smell of his stupid, perfect hair. There's so much fire and electricity running through his veins that he doesn't know what to do with himself, he just keeps-- holding Poe, far too tight, squeezing the other man's ribs and probably making it difficult for him to breathe. He keeps laughing, the most carefree he's ever been, completely overtaken by happiness. A happiness he's never felt before.

He lets himself take a moment to just absorb this, all of this, whatever it is. He lets the warmth flood through his body like honey, he lets the tears of joy prickle at his eyes while he sniffs and chuckles and acts like a damn fool, and then he's crouching a little in the air to be at equal eyeline with Poe. He lovingly, lovingly holds his hands on Poe's neck, gazing into his eyes with an unparalleled softness.

"I'm gonna find a way to make this last," he says, his thumbs on Poe's jawline, stroking reassuring lines over him. "I'm gonna find a way to make you feel-- safe, and comfortable, and happy, for-- years. Years. I don't-- know how yet, but that's all that matters to me, okay? From now on, that's all I am. I'm a man who is gonna find a way to make you happy for as long as you'll have me."

It was, frankly, overwhelming. Not necessarily in a bad way, though there was still that itch at the back of his mind, whispering his dad's name.

But he couldn't help but smile back, his own feelings nearly as overwhelming, if not as easy to completely untangle. He'd been spending so long fighting himself about this that it felt - very strange - to not be fighting at all, any more. But Odin's happiness was infectious, and he couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Slow down, slow down. Let's start with days, alright? Weeks? Months? If you start planning out years and I get ported out tomorrow it would take me a month just to cheer you up when I came back."

"That's not how I do things, buddy!" He's laughing, again, but he's still gazing at Poe with that pure, unguarded bliss. There's a part of him screaming at him to slow down, to hit the brakes before he scares Poe off, but he-- can't. They've only known each other for a small amount of time, but he's wanted this for what feels like so, so long. The fact that Poe is looking at him like that, laughing along with him like that, it's... building Odin into a stronger, better person.

"Oh, man, I wanna tell everyone." He looks past Poe, through the rest of the shuttle, still as dark and peaceful and uncaring as it had been ten minutes ago when he was so raw and afraid to speak from the heart. "What do I-- wait." He meets Poe's eyes, again, and his thumbs are still tracing gentle strokes over his jaw, these small and careful things he's only doing for the excuse to touch him.

"What do I-- call you? Boyfriend? That's-- a lot."

He's wide-eyed, anxious and excited and full of nerves in a way that's at odds with how confidently he was a second ago, when he spoke so openly about making Poe's life better.

"Pretty sure most of the world knows about it, now," he pointed out, amused, tilting his head towards a camera. But Odin's fingers on his skin was so warm and tender that it actually made his chest ache.

"You can call me whatever you want, Odin." Labels had never really bothered him, but there was something about Odin's earnestness that meant he couldn't leave it there. He reached out, pushing a loose stand of hair from Odin's forehead.

"Just wish I could do the same, up here." He murmured it quietly enough that maybe even Odin couldn't hear it.

"Though I'll be pretty blunt and say that I really can't give a damn about any of the rest of them, right now."

"I just want an excuse to say that you're mine out loud," he laughs, but he looks up at the camera, almost surprised to find it buzzing and spinning in place to watch them. It's not that he forgot how public everything they've done tonight has been, but he just cares so much about Poe that he was willing to put it out of his mind just to focus entirely on him.

He hears that comment about his name, though only just, and he's riddled with so much love and appreciation that he doesn't know what to do with it. The fact that his real name means something to Poe, it's... he presses his lips to Poe's forehead, letting him go just long enough to rake his fingers through his hair.

"I'm gonna make you say my name pretty damn hard, later, so I'm not too worried about that," he mumbles, grinning, sharp and white and toothy. "But - you're right. I don't care about anyone else, either. I just - I mean, this is fucking insane, I still can't believe-- do you know how long I've wanted this? The amount of times I would look at you and think, fuck, he's so beautiful, fuck, I wish he knew how badly he makes my heart hurt, and you're just-- if you've felt even a fraction of that with me, I think I might cry."

Every single time Odin looked at him, with that happiness bubbling up so hard, Poe's heart stuttered, threatening to stop. He wanted that. He wanted to be able to step into that joy and revel in it and forget completely about anything else in the universe--

And all he wanted was to get Odin alone. Really alone - not just the pretend privacy offered on the station.

He wanted to murmur Odin's real name and he wanted to feel him and wanted to at least be able to try to demonstrate what he was feeling--

"Then I'd better not say anything, if I don't want to make you cry," he teased lowly. But then his hands slid back from Odin's hair, cupping the side of his face. "No one makes me as happy and as easy as you do. But trust me. I'm all too familiar with the chest ache, recently." He leaned in, taking a relatively chaste kiss because everything else he wanted to do? He shouldn't do here.

Odin leans into Poe's hand, letting his eyes drift shut so he can just absorb Poe's voice as it vibrates through him, warms him. Later, when he's on his own and dwelling in his nightly anxiety, he might worry about all of this - that he's pushing Poe too hard, diving too quickly and too fast into this thing, but. Knowing he makes Poe's chest ache, the way Poe does for him? Fuck, it fills him with a peace he's never known.

"Poe," he starts, and there's just a brief, lingering look that tells the pilot what he's about to do, and then--

He doesn't give a fuck about privacy, he doesn't give a fuck about who's watching. He's digging his hands further in Poe's hair and pulling him in for a deep, firm kiss, parting his lips and hazily watching him through it, his weight against him as they float into the wall, Odin holding Poe against it. He doesn't know where this is going, if it's going any further than just kissing or not, he's not thinking ahead-- he just needs this, he needs Poe, he needs as much of him as Poe is willing to give him.

He's eyes fluttered closed with a soft groan, but he didn't fight the kiss. He should have should have pushed Odin off and laughed and thrown something at him and said something about the cameras. But he was weak. He had learned fairly quickly early on that Odin could basically ruin him - as a sexual partner he was basically everything Poe had ever wanted. So much so that even as he'd felt the feelings creeping in, he hadn't stopped it. His body knew what is wanted, and so did his heart, and he had spent so long lately trying to pretend that they weren't in sync that now he was completely overwhelmed by it.

So his whole body responded to him, cameras be damned, deepening the kiss as a leg hooked around Odin's. His head bangs against the bulkhead again and Poe can't bring himself to care, a warmth spreading through him that was quickly supplanting any sort of rational thought he wanted to keep.

Every reaction from Poe makes Odin feel like he was born for this. The pilot's leg tight around his, the kiss, each inch of Poe's skin alight with the same heat as his own - Odin's heart is so full he wouldn't find the words for it if he tried to voice them. He breathes through his nose as they kiss, eyes shut tight, until he pulls back just enough to bite at Poe's ear and run his hand down his neck.

"I wish you could feel how happy you make me," he laughs, lips pressed up against Poe's ear, voice low enough for the cameras to miss it. They're still completely clothed, chests pressed together, the growing tent in Odin's suit hidden from the cameras at just the right angle. Odin's knee is between Poe's legs, and he's grinding against him, a little, breath in his ear and fingers threading over his scalp. He holds his hand on Poe's neck and angles his jaw away from him so he can lean down, plant hard, possessive bites over Poe's neck. He sucks hard, marking him, harder than the last time he did it, claiming him.

Poe is his, his alone, his, and he wants the world to know it.

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a lot of it is the same but there are differences throughout so don't skim!!

WEHEHEGGG

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