shadowglitter | PSL || poe/odin

[He knows that this is a terrible idea. He knows that Odin deserves better. But he can't deny to himself the way that his heart quickens, thinking about seeing him again, a rush of adrenaline at the thought of finally seeing him in private, without the cameras, and--

Fuck, but his mind is racing ahead and his thoughts are turning extremely physical. Hold the fuck up, Dameron. He breathes out, then nods to himself.]

I'll be there

[And he was. It was almost 9, by the time he appeared. He could have been here earlier, if he'd taken the horse, but he wanted to be himself. Fully himself. He was incredibly anxious, for reasons he couldn't articulate, as he walked into the bar.]

[ The bar's pretty much what you would expect, from a secret-but-not-actually-secret bar in Maurtia Falls. The lighting's dim, most of it coming from the red, buzzing neon hanging by the bottles on the wall, and people are either caught up doing their own thing in secret corners or else laughing loudly at tables too small to fit their group while other patrons shoot them dirty looks. Odin's at the bar itself, sitting on a stool and nursing a beer, and when he grins at Poe from where he's sitting he's bright and kind in a way this place isn't.

He waves Poe over and gives him a one-armed hug when he's there, forced and overly friendly because... what else is he supposed to do? He goes back to sipping his beer. ]

Um, hey. How's...

[ he struggles. ]

... everything?

[ great. ]

Pretty shit, all things considered.

[But he's smiling, with a warmth and a fondness that he can't quite contain, just obviously happy to see him. Sure, he would probably get his dick ripped off later, but it was just so honestly good to see him that... It was worth it.]

[He wanted to say: I missed you. He didn't.]

How're you settling in?

[ Odin laughs, low and quiet and from the depths of his chest. He gets it. ]

Pretty shit, all things considered. [ he brings the bottle to his lips, and he's probably ot... aware, exactly, of what he's doing, but when a line of beer accidentally escapes the corner of his mouth and run down his neck and his throat, he makes a show of wiping it up with his hand and slowly running his tongue over it. Whoops.

But then he's back to grinning as he should be, when talking to an old, platonic friend. ]

Magnus and Alex set up a room for me to stay in, and it's really nice. Quiet and calm and stuff. Peter's gonna be with us too, for a while. I think I might have mentioned it before, but I'm... thinking of finding a new place to move to, over the next month or so. Away from Nonah.

Edited 2017-12-13 05:24 (UTC)

[Oh, he notices. His eyes trail it, and it takes willpower to snap his attention back to Odin's face. However both his mood, and his face, drop slightly as Odin continues.]

Oh. Right. No, you didn't mention it.

[He turns his gaze to the bar tender and waves him down for a beer, mostly so that he doesn't have to try to make small talk about Odin moving.]

Sounds like a nice vacation, though.

I just thought...

[ He smiles at Poe, a little sadly, then pounds back the rest of his drink. He never used to drink, before Poe. He waves the bartender order and orders another bottle, as well as something for Poe - whiskey, in a glass, something better and classier, like the drinker is worth more. ]

I'm doing it for your sake. So. [ He shrugs. ] At first, it was like - Poe probably doesn't want me making puppy dog eyes at him from my window every time he comes home? And now - I mean, if we're gonna be sneaking around, keeping this shit to ourselves - it'd probably be easier. Right?

[ he sighs. ]

It is really, really, really gonna suck, though. Gonna miss seeing you every day. That first week we were up in space, I kept imagining how amazing it would be to be like that all the time - waking up to you, seeing you every morning. I mean, Peter, too, but - you.

[ Definitely tipsy, if he's saying all this shit already. ]

[He drinks the whiskey too fast.

He basically drinks like a fish, these days, far more than he ever did (or felt the need to) back home. Who would have thought the middle of a war was the easier place to be?

He puts the glass down and taps the side to indicate he wanted another. The words 'sneaking around' made him feel, legitimately, awful.]

There's a difference between not being right next door and not being in Nonah. [His voice was strangely gentle, but he didn't look at Odin.]

But don't-- it's not for my sake. I really... I loved seeing you every day, Odin.

It's going to suck for me, too.

[The second whiskey came, but this one he just took a sip of.]

... But if it means I can see you, then - yeah. Okay. I see the point.

[ He reacts, visibly and quickly, when Poe says he loved seeing him. He loses his grip on the beer he's drinking and very nearly drops it, only to catch it before it falls. He immediately tries to play it off as a normal accident, but he probably doesn't. Fuck. ]

I-I mean-- yeah. No, I mean-- yeah.

[ Hoo boy. He downs more of his drink. He's still new to this - he hasn't developed any kind of tolerance to alcohol - and it won't take much for him to get blitzed. He reminds himself to take it easy, settling his bottle down on the bar and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He knows he won't. ]

It seems like the smart thing to do. Moving, I mean. Not necessarily the thing I want to do, but. I keep getting myself into trouble, doing the things I want to do. Like confessing. To the dude who likes someone else. I can't believe I was too stupid to notice that, by the way? Man. So. Yeah. Gotta stop doing things that I wanna do without thinking it all through.

[ Like now. Running his mouth about awkward shit isn't helping, especially when he already promised he'd stop saying things like this. Sneaking around, too. Hiding what they're doing from all of their friends. It's going to come out, eventually. Odin should care more than he does. It strikes him how fucking bad the past month has been, and - he drinks. ]

That's not your fault, Odin.

[As much as Poe wants to get ducking drunk, right now, there's a piece of him that's very aware of Odin downing his booze, and he reaches out, pressed a hand against Odin's wrist to keep him from drinking so fast.]

It's not like I... Advertise it. It's not even something that-- [He cuts off, uncomfortably.]

Look. I didn't want to lie to you about it. But feelings don't equal... Actual happenings. I was giving you every all-clear signal in the book.

It's not your fault that I'm an idiot.

[ Odin - considers everything Poe's saying. If he were slightly less tipsy, he'd probably be a little mature about things, but instead - ]

You totally were. You dick.

[ He grins, which is nice, in a way, because he's finding humor in this, but he also pretty clearly feels like shit and jokingly insulting Poe probably isn't gonna help either of them. He looks at his wrist, very clearly trying to decide if he wants to just snap his arm away from Poe and keep drinking, but he deflaes. Poe's the smart one. He knows what he's doing. Odin loosens his grip on thebottle and leaves it on the bar. ]

Nah, it's fine. Sorry for bringing all of this up. I'm-- really bad at not bringing things up. I think. But I'm getting over it. Slowly. It'll all pass soon. I'll probably end up dating Peter, or something.

[ He slumps against the bar, chin on his spare hand as he gazes at Poe. ]

You're not an idiot. Or a dick. You're just a dude with feelings. Just like I'm a dude with feelings. Feelings are stupid and I'm kind of done talking about them? Or thinking about them. I'm really, really tired of thinking about feelings.

Right now - all I care about is that I get to see you. Be near you. Everything that happened between us - all the people who want to keep me away from you - none of it matters. Spending my night with you is the only thing I care about right now.

Edited 2017-12-13 15:13 (UTC)

Don't date Peter. [Though it sounds more exhausted, than jealous.] Date someone who doesn't kick you in the ribs constantly.

[He sighs, heavily, letting go of Odin's wrist now that he's no longer gripping his beer so tight.]

And it's - fine. To bring up. Honestly, I - I just miss talking to you, Odin. [Public space, public name, as much as he wants to use the real one.] And I feel like I could have just - avoided this whole mess by telling you up front what was going on. Then we could have just--

[Just kept doing what they had been doing. Because then Odin would have been aware, from the start, not to pin any hopes on him.]

The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.

[ He takes a sip of his beer the second Poe lets go of his wrist, but he does it without thinking. It was just that - exhaustion, in Poe's voice, that sent a shot of sorrow and fear through him that he wanted to drown out. Fuck, Poe's just tired, and Odin gets that, logically, but he's scared that he's exhausted by Odin and sick of being around him and Peter, like they're stupid children he has to look after who aren't worth his time. Ugh, ugh. The cold beer down his throat doesn't chase the thought away, and he taps his nails over his bottle like he wants another drink, but instead he relents.

He laughs, though, distant and a little disbelieving. He'd thought he'd made his feelings for Poe clear, by now, but apparently not. ]

It-- wouldn't have happened. Like you think it would have. If you'd told me up front you were in love with someone else, it...

[ nah, he needs that drink. he finishes his second beer, already. ]

I would've fallen for you anyway. I would've been better at keeping quiet about it, but it still would have happened. Hurt was inevitable. The only way I could have avoided this is if I never met you.

Oh.

[He doesn't know what to say, to that, a odd twisting rush of feelings in his chest that he can't quite pull apart.

Selfish, was the word that kept popping up in head.

He was so fucking god damn selfish.

The silence lingers a little too long as Poe tries to rearrange pieces of his heart to make them make sense, and fails. He wets his lips, staring down into his whiskey.]

... So if you'd known. [His voice was oddly measured, quiet, as if every word was one he was carefully placing there. He was not, in truth, very good at thinking before he spoke, in most circumstances. So it was pretty damn obvious just how much brain work was going into these few sentences.]

If you'd known, you still would have - wanted to be with me. Anyway.

Is that what I'm understanding, here?

[ Odin-- isn't surprised, exactly, but he raises his eyes at Poe for a second before he turns back to his drink. Maybe it's just the buzz of the beer making him tired, but the hurt that shoots through him is dull, like the back of a knife.

He thought Poe got this. When he speaks, he's distant, staring off somewhere ahead of him, and his voice is sardonic and self-depreciative, like he hates himself a little for having to say what he's about to say. ]

... It was kind of a mess, when I confessed to you. I hadn't really-- been intending to do it. It all just slipped out. So-- that's why I made the first mixtape. I know I said in the note that I'd made it for myself and then just decided to give it to you-- but it was always meant for you. I wanted to make it clear how I felt. That you brighten my world, even though it's always usually so dark. That you were the man I wanted to come home to. That I'd walk a thousand miles for.

[ He sounds like he's talking about someone else's life. Like this doesn't matter anymore. ]

I guess I fucked up again. You're sitting there like - "this is transient, for Odin. This is just some kid with a crush on someone who helped him get laid, or something.", even though that's not...

[ he rubs his eyes, tired. ]

M'gonna go. I think. Even though I wanted to see you, I don't think-- it's fair. That I'm doing this to you. Again.

Don't.

[His hand was already out, gripping into Odin's sleeve before he could stop it.]

Please, don't.

[His face was set in a grim expression, something almost queasy to it, but he drew a hard breath in and let it out again, slowly.]

... I didn't think that. I don't think that. I just--

[He raised his eyes to meet Odins, an apology in them even though they were steady and firm. Resolute. He didn't let go.]

I think at this point I've basically proven that I- keep getting caught up in my own shit and managing to completely-- [He cut off, his lips thinning. His grip loosened, his hand falling away.]

I'm not- going to force you to stay, but-

Please, don't go.

[ Again, Odin doesn't react with the surprise he feel he should. He lets Poe grab him, and he stares, once again viewing everything on a disconnect, like this is just somebody else's life and he's rolling through it all.

He doesn't move to leave. He doesn't move to respond to anything Poe's saying, either. For the first time, he's going to just fucking try to do the friend thing. To bury all of this like he promised. Poe's here because he missed him, and Odin's just - pushing him away.

He finishes his drink and orders a third. ]

Okay. Buddy mode.

Talk to me about how things are going for you right now. All this stuff with your friends can't be easy. That guy you went to see in the hospital - is he okay?

Edited (i saID BACK HOME BECAUSE I THOUGHT THEY WERE IN SPACE FOR SOME REASON LIKE A FOOL) 2017-12-14 01:33 (UTC)

[Buddy mode.

That's what Poe wanted, right? To have his friend back? That was what this entire damn thing was about; why he was killing himself over this. Wasn't it?

Then why the hell did 'buddy mode' make him feel worse than anything else up to that point?]

That wasn't--

No. He's not. None of them are. No one's okay, and everyone is dying, and yet I'm still hung up over the fact that I can't just - be with you the way that I was.

I'm pretty sure at this point that makes me a monster, but I don't - I don't want Buddy Mode, Owa-- Odin. [Public. Still in public, Poe.]

I'm not the smartest guy in the galaxy, alright? I get something in my head and then I gun for it, hell or high water, and I don't stop to notice the collateral damage. But I'm noticing now. I'm noticing now, and I - I don't have the right to ask you for your patience, but I am.

I'm trying to figure this out. I'm trying to figure- I'm trying to figure you out, because the last two weeks have been some of the worst in my life, and I'm starting to figure out why.

Edited (missing fucking words again) 2017-12-14 04:29 (UTC)

[ It's the "I don't want Buddy Mode" that stops him from leaving, and the aborted sound of his name dying on Poe's lips that holds his attention. His eyes dart imperceptibly fast from Poe's eyes to his lips, and then he's looking away. ]

... I mean, I don't blame you for missing me. You're totally not gonna find another dick like mine.

[ He flashes a grin, open mouthed with the tip of his tongue between his teeth, like he's proud of himself for telling a dirty joke and close to giggling at the scandal of it all. But - it's fake, and it's not hard to wipe away when makes headway on his third beer. He remembers, after the haunted house, when he learned about Poe's daughter, that he'd initially only swung by for a hook up to distract himself. He wonders, on one level, if that's all this is - a distraction from The Other Guy.

But he knows Poe pretty well, he thinks. Poe's a lot of things, but he's not a man who would ever intentionally hurt him. He wouldn't intentionally hurt this other guy, either, the one he likes more than Odin. It takes a while for him to internalize all of this, and the seconds pass agonizingly slowly as he drinks and tries to figure out what he wants.

He figures out what he wants far faster than Poe ever has. ]

Okay.

[ he sets his bottle down. his heart is hammering and his palms are sweaty as he reads and rereads into everything poe's telling him. ]

Okay. I can be patient. [ He's looking at Poe, now. ] I mean - there is always going to be a part of me - that waits for you. Even if I'm just waiting for you to message me out of the blue and ask if I'm free to talk about some inconsequential stupid bullshit to pass the time, or - or even if it's just - even if I'm just waiting for you to be up in my room again, laughing about some stupid joke I'm making. You're the most important person in my life, and I'll always be waiting for more of you. So.

If you want me to be patient - so you can figure out whatever it is you're trying to figure out - I can do that. It'll just be... waiting - but with hope that something might - I don't know. Change. Instead of - waiting as I am now.

If you're okay with that, then yeah. Let's just - fuck, I don't know. Be normal? Put all of this behind us an have fun like we used to until you know what it is you want me to be for you?

[He smiles weakly at the dick joke and glances at the bar tender, making a motion across his throat to tell him to cut Odin off. No more. Last drink. But the smile doesn't last and all of his attention is back on Odin while he speaks.]

I know enough of what I want to know that Buddy Mode just isn't enough.

[His voice may be quiet, but on this point, he is certain. Even if it physically pains him, on some level, to admit it. His next words are far less sure.]

I've got-- I've got that- particular prison- already. I'm not putting you there, too. [He paused, wetting his lips, and pulling himself forward on the stool until he was sitting on the edge of it, balanced precariously, far too intent.]

I can't promise you anything, Odin. I can't promise that I'll ever be able to just - let go - and this is the thing.

You deserve someone who's all-in, Odin. Not a single scrap less. You deserve far, far better than me. But I--

Fuck, I miss you. I miss you, not the - not the buddy mode, or the Big Brother mode or even just - Odin. I miss you, and I - I want you. I know I shouldn't, I know I should let you move on and find someone who isn't so- fucking torn- but I--

Want this. Whatever it is. Even if no one ever knows.

I'm not -

[ He's said this countless times, and logically, he gets that Poe gets it, but he's frustrated with himself at not being able to just-- just fucking-- make it stick. It's like he wants Poe to say something specific every time he says this, but he has no idea what that something is, if it even exists. ]

I'm fucking - in love with you. I would have been in love with you with or without this guy that's fucking - better than me. You're not-- putting me in a prison. I put myself there, if anything. And I don't-- I don't give a fuck what you think I deserve. I want you. In whatever way you'll have me.

You don't have to promise me anything. Just fucking-- ugh.

[ he finishes his drink and calls for another one, and when the bartender refuses to serve him, there's a flash of anger on his face, because he needs this, he needs something to stop thinking or he's gonna make some stupid fucking mistake again like he always does. it drains from him, though, when he runs his fingers through his hair and steps away from the bar. he's got too many thoughts and feelings pulling him from different directions and he doesn't know what to do with them.

maybe he's just... maybe he's just angry because poe had to fucking remind him so explicitly that he's in love with somebody else. odin puts his hands in his pockets, breathing out through his nose as he looks up and down at Poe. ]

Just... I'm just - tired. Of hurting. And you make me feel better. Always. No matter what I'm feeling, it's always - you. That makes me better. So. I want - you. And I miss you. Even now, when you're standing right here, I miss you, and I...

[ he trails off. a moment passes, and he pulls out his comm, new and shiny, procured through Magnus after his old one was thrown off into space. he types something into it, and then - he pulls up a booking site for a hotel, after writing in a fake name on the room order. he shows it to Poe. ]

We don't have to do anything. But - it'd be private. We could talk.

Last chance to back down, Dameron.

That's not- no one is better than you, Odin, that really isn't- [But he cuts off with a sigh because he knows he's Messed Up again. Why were humans so much hard to navigate than a cockpit? It wasn't even the point, but he noted it. Another piece of evidence to prove to himself later that he was the worst person to be around Odin. Making him believe that he was lesser somehow--]

[The hotel booking website sent up every alarm bell that still functioned in his heart and his head and his chest. This isn't right, Dameron, you're only going to making this worse for both of you, only going to hurt him--

He picked up his glass of whiskey, through it down his throat, then slid cash onto the counter.]>/small>

Yeah. Okay. Let's go.

[ Odin knows, deep down, how selfish it was for him to use those words - better than me. The only thing he could have possibly done was send a thorn through Poe's heart, and that thought hits him like a truck when Poe tries to correct him. He thinks about leaving it, about pressing on, but he just-- can't. ]

I know. M'sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I did.

[ he does, of course. jealousy. bitterness. things he'd be able to let go of, if Poe would just fucking kiss him. He breathes slowly through his nose as he books the hotel, tucking his comm back in his pocket. He nods towards the door, and-- it's not too far from here, the hotel, so they walk, Odin keeping his head down and keeping his thoughts to himself.

The room he books is pretty lavish, because he's got the money to spend, now, but it's Maurtia Falls, nevertheless. Everything's red and silk and black and gold, designed to be sexy, just because that's the kind of business Maurtia expects. Odin's - a little awkward, honestly, as he heads inside and shuts the doors behind them.

He immediately goes to the minibar and pours them both another glass of whiskey. This is a pretty big problem in the making. ]

Okay.

[ His voice sounds loud in the empty room, as he hands Poe his glass and takes a sip of his own. It burns, and his eyes water, and it's so, so obvious how inexperienced he is with drinking, but he takes another sip right after, anyway. ]

So - okay.

[ Okay.

Okay.

He looks at Poe a little helplessly. ]

T... talk? Or...

[The liquor was hitting him, now, and he regretted drinking at all as they walked in near silence to the hotel. He hated this. He hated that he could feel how miserable he was making Odin - and he had plenty of time between the bar and the hotel to turn his thoughts over and over in his mind.

He doesn't really register the design of the room, he's too busy trying to figure out what to say, first. When Odin goes for the whiskey, Poe's face falls somewhat.

There's a heartbeat of a moment while Poe watches him, and then very deliberately steps forward and takes the glass from Odin's hand.

He turns, setting both glasses off to the side, and without another fucking word crosses back to Odin, and pulls him into a tight hug. His face presses into Odin's shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around Odin chest. No kissing, no going for belts or edges of clothing, no wicked grins or bit lips.

He just hugs him.

He hugs Odin, and tries to ignore the painful shards of his heart littered in his chest.]

[ Odin, again, looks close to angry when Poe takes his glass away. He doesn't fight, but he's unhappy about it, and already his mouth feels dry and sickly. The only reason he doesn't say anything is because he sees Poe's face fall and it kowtows him, somewhat, dousing the fire in his chest and making him cold.

It hits him like a truck, when Poe hugs him. This had been - the last thing he expected to happen. He can't believe-- he can't believe he didn't think Poe would hug him, he can't believe he's ruined this relationship so completely that a hug from Poe had felt so-- so impossible, so unlikely, that until it was actually happening he didn't even register it could happen--

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What was he thinking, confessing in space? He fucking-- he lost Poe, Poe's gone, he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone he's gone, everyone he loves leaves, they leave or they die and it's always because of him, it's always always always always always because he's too fucking stupid to just-- do the right fucking thing, for once, why does he always make what he loves die, why is he so fucking worthless--

He slowly, gently put his hands on Poe's back, and the touch opens floodgates in him. He buries his hands in his shirt and his nose in his hair, everything blurring as tears start to fill his eyes. He doesn't cry. There are no wracked sobs, no lonely sniffles or heartbroken hiccups, just - a lump in his throat and a stinging in his eyes as everything looks like it's behind mottled glass. It's Poe's smell, that really gets to him. He remembers those nights in bed, and how tightly Odin held him. How tightly Owain held him.

It feels like this is the last hug they're going to have, so he doesn't let go. He just digs in tighter and tighter, concentrating his entire energy on his breathing, trying not to hyperventilate. The alcohol's hitting him, too. He's trying not to let it, even though that's all he wanted until now.

There are so many things he wants to say. That he's sorry. That he wants to make Poe happy, but he's just been selfish this whole time, by only saying the things he wants to say. He wants to tell Poe that he'll be better - he'll be good, from now on, he'll give Poe space and let him spend time with his friends and not be so fucking greedy, wanting him all to himself - but how often has he promised to leave Poe alone and focus on keeping things platonic, only to fail, before now? In the end, what comes out of him is weak and lonely and small, and he doesn't want-- he doesn't want his voice to sound sad, and he tries really, really hard to keep how broken he is out of it, because he can't keep making things about him, he can't. Poe deserves better than to be preoccupied by someone who won't fucking take a hint and stay behind boundaries, Poe deserves-- him, the other one. ]

You're too-- kind. To me. You're too good to me.

I'm really not.

[He hasn't let go.

His eyes are shut tight, face still buried into Odin's shoulder. It hurts. Of course it hurts. Like glass tumbling loose inside his rib cage and cutting deep with every small movement.

But he doesn't let go. ]

I could be as - a kind as I possibly could, and it would never be as good as I wanted to be, for you.

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