Chapter Text
The bar is loud— the kind of loud that makes the air feel heavy with laughter, Resistance talk, and clinking glasses. It smells like cheap Corellian ale and various fried foods as you’re squeezed between two other pilots in a cracked leather booth— your drink half-finished, cheeks already warm from the alcohol and the attention. Black Squadron had insisted on taking the newest member out, and now you’ve turned into their evening’s entertainment.
“Alright, rookie,” Jessika calls from across the table, slamming her glass down. “Hottest person on base. Go.”
You giggle nervously, thinking it’s harmless. “Mmm… Commander Dameron.” It comes out light, teasing, like you’re joking.
The table erupts into a mixture of howls and whistles. Someone pounds the table. “Ooooh,” Kare drawls, wiggling her eyebrows. “Our Commander himself, huh?”
Before you can backpedal, a voice cuts through the noise from the doorway. “What was that?”
Every head turns. Your blood runs cold. Standing at the entrance, still in his flight jacket and looking like he walked out of a damn holovid, is Poe Dameron himself.
He approaches the table. “Were you ladies talking about me, hm?”
You turn a shade redder. “I-It’s nothing.”
Jessika laughs, noticing your anxiety growing. “We’re just talking about the squad and interrogating the rookie, as per tradition, boss.”
“Oh— Don’t let me interrupt,” he says smoothly, grabbing a pint of ale from the bar before sliding into a seat at the edge of the table.
L’ulo pipes in, “Okay then, if you were to be stranded on a planet with one other person— Just the two of you, who would you choose?”
“I dunno. I guess Commander Dameron.” The table “oohs” as Poe raises his brows slightly, like he’s intrigued, but says nothing. Your cheeks heat up, and you feel the need to defend your choice. “Wha— He’s resourceful. Why’s everyone making it a big deal?”
“You wanna be alone with him on a random, isolated planet?” Kare laughs out.
You blush from embarrassment. “Well, at least I know I’d live.”
L’ulo grins wider, loving your discomfort. “Oh sure, sure. And what exactly would the two of you do all alone?”
You blink, realizing too late how it sounds. “I—I don’t know! Gather supplies? Build a fire? What else are you supposed to do when you crash on a planet?”
The squad bursts out into laughter, and your cheeks burn even hotter. Poe just smirks into his drink, clearly entertained.
Desperate to shift the spotlight, you blurt, “Well— What would you do, Commander?”
He looks up at you, eyes glinting over the rim of his glass. “Oh, I don’t know,” he says, voice smooth and casual. “We would definitely gather resources. Start a few fires together. Maybe…” His lips twitch. “Maybe we could go look at the stars.”
“See?” you say, pointing at him triumphantly. “He’s reasonable. You guys are just dirty.”
The table erupts again, laughter spilling everywhere. Even Poe lets out a low chuckle, sipping from his drink like he’s hiding a smirk.
“Yeah…” he murmurs, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’re all such dirty-minded pilots.”
You try to laugh along, still clueless, though the way Poe’s eyes linger on you makes your chest tighten. It feels like everyone else caught something you didn’t— like there’s a joke in the air that only you’re not in on.
The laughter slowly dies down, though a few pilots are still giggling between sips of ale. Snap leans forward with a mischievous grin.
“Alright, rookie, last one,” he says. “Is there anybody in the Resistance you want to fuck?”
You choke on your drink. “What—? No! I’m not answering that.”
“Oh, come on,” Snap teases. “You’ve been honest about everything else!”
“I’m not answering that!” you repeat, your voice cracking slightly.
The table starts chanting your name, urging you on, laughter spilling over again. You cover your face, shaking your head, cheeks on fire.
“C’mon rookie, just tell us.” Jessika teases, elbowing you playfully.
“T-That’s private, okay?” You stammer out, face heating up.
Then, from across the table, a deeper voice cuts through the noise.
“So there is somebody you’d want to fuck?”
The room goes still as the laughter dies instantly. You freeze.
Your hands slowly lower from your face, and your heart kicks up against your ribs. Poe’s voice wasn’t loud, but steady and controlled in a way that commands attention. When you finally dare to look up at him, he’s watching you— really watching you— with that unreadable expression that makes your stomach twist.
“I… Um.” You swallow. The entire squad holds their breath from the tension. Fucking instigators they are.
He leans back slightly in his chair, one hand lazily gripping his glass, but his eyes don’t move from yours. “Well?” he asks, tone deceptively calm. “That’s not a no.”
You can hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. No one moves. No one even breathes. Everyone stares at the both of you. Poe’s gaze stays locked on you, steady and dark, the hint of amusement tugging faintly at his lips.
You try to laugh it off, but your voice comes out weaker than you’d like. “That’s— that’s not what I meant—”
“And what did you mean…?” His tone is smooth, almost lazy.
You swallow, heat creeping up your neck. “It’s just… private.”
Poe takes a slow sip from his glass, still watching you over the rim. “So… there is somebody,” he says again, quieter this time, like he’s testing you.
You can feel the heat climbing up your neck. Your mouth goes dry. “Maybe,” you manage to say, your voice hesitant.
He tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “And would that somebody,” he drawls, “happen to be the guy you think is the hottest here?”
You freeze. Completely. The question hangs heavy in the air, and you swear your whole body forgets how to function. His tone is teasing, but there’s something else under it too. Something sharp. Curious.
Your squad is dead silent. Jessika glances between the two of you, biting back a nervous laugh. Snap mutters something under his breath, but no one dares to speak louder than that. Kare grips L’ulo, the both of them bracing for just how this conversation might erupt.
Your throat tightens. You can’t look away from him. Something about his voice, his eyes, the way he’s leaning forward ever so slightly— it roots you to the spot.
He raises an eyebrow. “Well?”
You swallow hard, heart hammering. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Then, without meaning to, you nod.
Just once. Small.
Poe lets out a low chuckle and leans back in his chair, finishing off what’s left of his drink. “That's what I thought.” He sets the glass down, pushes his chair back, and stands. “Carry on, pilots,” he says, tone casual but his eyes flicker to you one last time before he turns and walks out.
No one says a word. The silence hums between you and the door he just walked through. You can still feel him— his presence, his eyes staring you down, the echo of his voice. You’re flushed all the way to your ears, staring ahead, trying not to crumble into a pile of nothingness.
And that’s when it hits you.
Oh, shit.
Did you just admit to wanting to fuck your boss in front of your entire squad?
Yes.
Yes, you did.