Staying Human - Chapter 4 ; NC-17 / R
Title: Staying Human
Chapter: Chapter 4
Fandom: Star Wars ; Poe Dameron/Rey Skywalker
Rating: NC-17 / R
Summary: Rey has never been a burden to him, but a lightening; she has never been an aimless wander to him - Rey is home.
You trace with your fingertips like a Toyota
Run your hands over me like a Land Rover
“There’s a cross on the hill - over there,” Rey tells Poe when she hears him emerging from the bathroom; presses the tip of her finger against the windowpane streaked with grime, pointing northwest towards Sierra Madre.
She wonders who put it there, when and why - is it to indicate the whereabouts of the commune; or something much more nuanced for a lost soul at the brink of despondency, casting one last grand gesture to the skies laden with hopes and prayers to a God that’s turned the other cheek at humanity’s demise - like smoke signal, Morse code, calling out: I’m here - I’m here - I’m here…
She gasps with a start, pulled out of her reverie, when she feels Poe against her back; surprised from her running thoughts at first, before she realises his shirtless chest pressing up against her, skin still cold from the shower as it draws warmth from her own clothed body.
“Could be the Arcadia commune…” He mumbles, voice an octave lower; hot breath licking against her clavicle like a little key winding up her nerves and hastening her heartbeat.
She exhales shakily, as he lines his arms with hers, his bigger hand closing over her smaller one on the glass window - overcast shrouding the hilly massif of her bony knuckles; guiding her finger to the far-off landscape.
“That’s the Latter-day Saints there,” he tells her, their fingers applying slight pressure upon the glass surface. “And - the cross up there, that’s the Nazarene - ‘bout a three-hour hike up, give or take.”
“We’ll hit both - first thing tomorrow morning,” he adds with a heavy exhale, as he brings their adjoined arms around her waist, brushing his stubbled cheek against hers. “With any luck, they’ll let us in, and we can take shelter with them.”
“Why wouldn’t they let us join their commune?” she asks, slightly perplexed.
“Bunch of reasons, I guess,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck; taking in a generous whiff of her scent. “Word travels still somehow - some form of communication device to stay in touch, I don’t know. Communes still collapse because people weren’t cautious with the vetting - whether it’s an infected or just - unsavoury people.”
It’s nice, having his warm body envelope her smaller form; yet, it’s not enough to ease her anxious thoughts.
“What if they don’t - let us in?” She inquires in a whisper.
“Then we’ll keep going,” Poe replies half-heartedly, as she feels him shrug his shoulders nonchalantly. “Find another commune east until one of them lets us in.”
East - how far east, how many more, how long to go; what if none of them wants to take them in, and there are no more doors to knock upon; what if they run out of food, no more grocery stores to ransack for canned food and even horrible coffee; what if they come across the swarm -
Poe must’ve sensed the tension pulling under his touch, the disquiet in her mind manifesting through her physique; tightens his hold around her petite body - clouds blanketing deep valleys.
“It shouldn’t be a problem, sweetheart,” he soothes a featherlight kiss upon her shoulder. “There’s only the two of us.”
Why can’t it just be the two of them; they’ve made it this far without needing anyone else, and they’re doing just fine - how far east can they go without the rest of the world weighing them down; will they eventually end up back in Brooklyn, where she once might’ve spilled coffee all over Poe’s shirt in front of his favourite coffee shop - will things be better then?
“Do you think things will get better - you know, back to normal?” Rey relays her contemplations out loud, dropping her head to the side so she’s resting her tired mind against his.
Normal - like she might’ve seen him at the farmers’ market, doing his weekend shopping; smiling back at her from across the kitchen counter, making enough food to feed the world; his world - her.
“Sit down, eat. You’re not going anywhere until you finish dinner.”
“Maybe - I don’t think there’s a normal for us to go back to now,” he tells it like it is; his hands rubbing languidly up and down the length of her arms, restoring the body heat he’s borrowed from her earlier. “Just - a new kind of normal, I suppose.”
Rey looks back out towards the cross at the foothills of San Gabriel Valley, and establishes in her troubled mind that - no one is coming to save them now; hopes dashed and prayers unanswered. The outbreak happened so very long ago, nobody is around anymore to rescue them.
The dismal resolution unleashes something unexplainable in her - a trembling fear, a cold panic that freezes. It hits her so fast, so hard and so completely that tears swell in her eyes before she can stop herself, try to hold it back or hide it from Poe - torrential rainfall flooding profound canyons to the brim.
So overwhelmed with her emotions, and so suddenly that Poe practically carries her slump form away from the window, and settles her down on the edge of the bed - like a ragdoll, a crying mess; where she buries her face in her hands, wheezing whimpers muffled in her palms.
“Hey, shhhh - what’s wrong, sunshine?” He coos, nestled between her legs; hands running vigorously up and down her thighs; the hands of God smoothening rocky boulders until they’re flattened plateaus - damage control.
It’s a long while before Rey is calm enough to form proper, coherent sentences without breaking down all over again. Poe remains kneeling in front of her, looking up at her; a large, calloused hand cupping the side of her small face, his thumb catching every single tear streaming down her reddened cheeks.
“It’s just - what is the point; fighting to survive every day - running away from them, trying not to get bitten by them, living on barely enough rations, sleeping on strange smelling beds…” She pauses to suck in a large mouthful of air; shutting her eyes briefly with her lips pursed tightly so she doesn’t combust again.
“There’s literally nothing that we’re heading to,” she sighs; crumbling. “Nothing to look forward to but the same-fucking-thing…”
“You’re exhausted, Rey; it’s been a long day,” Poe tries to reason, his brows pinched on his forehead, burdened with the weight of the world; his world- her. “Why not - why don’t you just lie down -”
“I know I’m exhausted, Poe, but that’s exactly the point, isn’t it?” Rey snaps, irritated. “We’re just - it’s just going to be the same - tired - going all the way east until - until…”
Brooklyn - Volkan on Bergen, Beepublic on Front, maple latte all over his shirt; another life, another timeline flickering through her mind. She squeezes her eyes until they - fade away.
“It’s not going to stop,” she mumbles; head drops in such consternation. “It’s not going to get better - this, this new kind of normal.”
Despair - contagious as the plague that brought the world to its knees, it spreads from one person to the other, from Rey to Poe. The older man lets out an audible sigh, and drops his head on her lap.
Her heart squeezes in the confines of her chest - breaking, seeing him like this; maybe she shouldn’t have said what she just said. She almost feels sorry she’s stolen whatever shred of hope there is left in him, stripped him naked and grappling for thin air.
She cards her fingers through his hair, still damp from the shower earlier, and his arms come to wrap around her waist, hands rubbing concentric circles on the small of her back.
“You came through the Midwest, Poe - did what you did, doing what you’re doing now,” Rey sniffles. “Why - what is the point of it all?”
There is a momentary pause, before he lifts his head, and gazes deep into her eyes; cinnamon brown, serious as a heart attack, and sure as the sun rises - he tells her: “There’s a little girl on the West Coast that needed saving?”
A smile breaks upon her face - so fast, so abrupt and so intense that she scarcely has time to catch herself, bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from spreading; wholesome sunshine breaking through the storm clouds, casting gold that permeates from the summit down the mountain range.
Poe catches her teasing finger poking back at him, and brings it to his smiling lips; plants a deep kiss on the back of her hand.
“You didn’t have to - save me,” she whispers.
“Oh, but I do, Rey - I want to,” he says, eyes shimmering a delicious golden maple. “For all that’s taken away from you, you deserve this at the very least.”
Rey watches him intently, as he closes his eyes and nuzzles his lips in the palm of her hands; almost drowning out the words he’s never spoken out loud, until now: “You’ve been so good for me, sunshine - so good; Rey of sunshine - mine.”
It sends a shiver down her spine - that word; tingles lusciously between her legs, inches away from his touch, his face.
“You have no idea, Rey, no idea,” she hears the crack in his quiet voice - hidden trails in the dense forest. “Wouldn’t have gone at all if I hadn’t found you.”
It hits her - like parting conifers that give way to a clearing in the middle of the forest; Poe wouldn’t have made it to Arcadia if it wasn’t for her. He would’ve called it quits a long time ago, because there was never somewhere he was heading to at all, if he hadn’t found her - found home.
“You’re home, sweetheart…” - He told her the day they met in the supermarket, where the swarm had ambushed her, cornered her to the edge of contemplative death.
Rey has never been a burden to him, but a lightening; she has never been an aimless wander to him - Rey is home.
She exhales a kind of relief, an alleviation, and feels his rough jawline as she lifts his face to meet his red-rimmed eyes with a cherry blossom nose; the same eyes that peered at her from the fallen supermarket shelves, from the hedgerow that separated fact from fiction.
Rey crashes into Poe, shapes her lips to the architecture of his - just as she remembers, just the way she likes it: plush and the taste of canned stew from their shared dinner; jagged precipice chipping off the mountainous frame, plunging into the deep, cavernous gorge that echoes his love for her ten fold.
Rey can’t remember when was the last time she did this; when was the first - how old was she, who was it with, was he good to her, tender with her, made it perfect for her? Were there any others after that before her last boyfriend, did they do it before he -
She snaps out of her wandering thoughts, and lets out an abrupt groan; her back arching off the bed in the hotel room in Arcadia, nails digging into the back of Poe’s head - clawing, as a pleasant orgasm rips forth from the pit of her stomach. His hands on her thighs clamp down, and his darkened eyes flick up at the beautiful sight of her coming; his tongue lapping greedily at her sweet release like a man starved, deprived.
He sets her down on a high plateau, buoyant above solid ground; replaces his adept mouth with his fingers, tap-tapping that nectarous spot he’s found in her, not willing to let her go, let her come down just yet.
Brows furrowed, Rey gazes down, shudders; his pupils are blown, burnt butter brown eyes a darker shade, as parted lips wet with her cum drink in her delectable slick, while deft fingers stressing the perfect note he’s strumming - fortissimo!
She tears away from his watchful eyes, hips wiggling restlessly under his stern hold, as he dives in again, teeth nibbling at her sensitive bud and trembling lips - until she starts to shake so drastically, and casts a delightful scream to the peeling ceiling; falling apart all over again.
With heavy, quivering breaths, and fluttering eyelids batting the colourful spots from her vision, she regards Poe as he clambers up from the kneeling position between her legs; two fingers wrapped in his swollen lips - sucking deeply, before he pulls his soil-speckled shirt over his head in one swift motion - never taking his eyes off her, as if she’d just dissolve into thin air if he does.
No - not all humans are this beautiful, Rey concludes, eyes watering at the sight of his softened muscles across his abdomen as he folds into her - landslide coming down. She is certain she would’ve remembered how - incomparable they all are to Poe, jolt memories tucked deep in her forgotten past, dormant at the back of her mind; shove to her frontal cortex, and run in parallel correlation next to him, aligning themselves, only to pale in comparison.
“You alright, sweetheart?” he pants a poignant peck upon her supple lips; both hands mapping out her body like a cartographer in uncharted territories - her hips the curves of a mountain pass, her stomach an unbroken pasture, her chest a valley hidden from the sun, her breasts peaks high enough to touch the stars.
Rey slides her hands to the back of his neck and pulls him to her - an avalanche crashing down, anchoring her six feet underground with his delicious weight. She hums into his mouth desperately, tasting her seasalt caramel self upon his tongue - stoking the embers alight in her core, her fingers clasp-pulling the curls at the nape of his neck.
Poe lets out an unyielding groan that reverberates between them, his own hand slots into the back of her neck and - clutches; deepening their fervent kiss, harmonising their beating hearts underneath their sweaty skin-on-skin.
So - famished, Rey mewls direly, hands rushing down the currents of his arms, and pool at the front of his bulging pants; palming at his rock-hard erection like she needs this so badly, as his fingers come to assist her with the belt buckle and zipper - mouth expelling frenzied greed against her heated mouth.
Once his pants are shucked off his legs, hers come to wrap around his broad waist without another second wasted, pulling him down to her, burying her; lining his weeping cock against her core, already fluttering again for him, buzzing from the emanating heat of his sex.
Rey locks her heavy-lidded eyes on him, the bob on his neck, his beautiful neck, as he gives his length a few sturdy pumps, smearing himself with his own precum; laves his reddened tip along her slick folds, wet again - and casts himself into the wind, freefalling; deep into her.
“Look at me, sunshine,” her eyes snap open at Poe’s firm demand, catching his darkened gaze fixating on her; she didn’t even realise she had them shut, enraptured as she is with the heavenly feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of her - clutching and unclutching, loading and unloading; counting shells.
He looks - thoroughly wrecked. His curls an unruly mess on his head, and his face a tint of burgundy on the apples of his cheeks; his thick brows tweaked and drenched with a sheen of sweat she has half a mind to run her tongue over, to taste him, all the way down the salient bumps of his clenching jawline, down the column of his neck a blushing rose gold.
“You’re - beautiful…” It slips out, slightly deranged, before she can stop herself; but it makes him smile, a lazy tug at the corner of his lips, as claw-shaped crinkles light up his cinnamon brown eyes.
She smiles dreamily back at him; she likes it when he smiles - loves it that she’s the reason he smiles.
He turns his face to press his huffing mouth against the inside of her wrist; the furrow upon his brows deepen, as the roll of his hips intensifies - quickened, determined.
Rey’s heated body arches into him, and sings into his ear; feels his hand close around her other wrist, guiding, pulling her down to where their soul meets body, navigating her fingers over the pulsating bud, mimicking the rhythmic snap of his hips - faster, deeper, heavier.
“Do that again,” he growls, and she barely hears him through the kindling surge; but she obeys, a hand gliding to the back of his neck, fingers toying with the wisp of curls there - with bated breath, anticipating; they’re so - close.
The feral moans from the depths of his chest grow louder as the measured cadence of their lovemaking falters. The pleasant plunge below her stomach sinks further, and her fingers in his hair yank. She buries her scream into the column of Poe’s neck when she comes, teeth sinking deep into his rugged skin as he lets out a guttural howl, searing fingers bite bloody upon her waist - burn, burn, burn.
Together, they cast themselves off the high-altitude cliff, their mated cries muffled in the wind - in his beautiful neck, as they smash against the jagged ridge at the bottomless pit - bodies tangled in the afterglow, mangled in the afterlife.