flightforfreedom | A stupid post for stupid threads

So, his world had gone a little topsy-turvy in the last few days. One second he'd been heading back to base through open space after a mission, and the next second he - and his X-Wing - had been roaring through a rift, straight into some trees and nearly a mountain side.

He'd managed to make it out alive, and not too much the worse for wear.

His X-Wing, on the other hand...

They'd found him, somehow. Considering that this place didn't even seem to have lightbulbs, he figured he must have lit up the Hinterlands like a giant flaming beacon. He was just glad, in retrospect, that it was the Inquisition that found him first. At least they seemed to know what was going on.

Sort of.

Who even knew where in the galaxy he was. None of the stars matched his maps, and he hadn't brought BB-8 for this particular trip. They said that the rifts took people to other worlds, and that he could understand. But other galaxies? Maybe even a whole different universe?

All he knew was that he needed to fix his ship, and go home.

And the former was difficult, considering.

So he may have been spending way too much time tinkering with it and trying to see if any of the materials here could be banged into spare parts.

"Hand me that, would you?" He asked whoever it was that was walking around his fighter at the present moment, from where it was stashed in a corner of the grounds in skyhold. He gestured to his admittedly completely shoddy heat panelling that he'd managed to figure out how to forge by bothering the blacksmiths.

It had been like a comet, the sudden flare of light careening through the rift and into the mountainside. Demon, cried the templars, danger, cried everyone else. Zevran thought it some manner of particularly metallic dragon. To be told by it's rather exhausted (but quite handsome) pilot that it was a ship for the stars? Held Zevran's curiosity. Aside from the initial attempts to free the man, his ship, and all that they could from the countryside Zevran kept a careful, quiet distance. Observing him and his manner, the large metal structure unlike any he had seen before.

The stuff of fade dreams, what he spoke of- and yet it held it's own appeal.

His distant curiosity became close, and he asked questions. Answered a few of his own. Took the time to wander about shirtless on more than one occasion to return the ever so kind favor Poe (what a name, that) gave them stripped to the waist in his horrifically colored jumpsuit.

Now he helped as best he could, even if he did not understand the principles. "You are certain this will hold?"

Zevran offered it over all the same, peering at the side to compare it to what survived the crash.

"Not at all," Poe admitted, sliding out from under the X-Wing as he pried off the scorched and damaged piece of heat shielding that now mostly resembled extremely burnt toast.

"A bit of a moot point, since I still haven't found anything that could possibly replace my fuel cells," He said, wiping his brow and giving Zevran a grin. "So she won't be flying any time soon."

Elves wandering around half naked were also a little distracting, though helpful. He took the piece of heatshielding and slid it back into place - bright shining blue surrounded by matte black. Well. He could worry about the pain job later.

"Have you tried speaking with the artificers and mages?" He tipped his head back to get a better idea of the shape of it- the wings and the 'cockpit' as Poe has called it. Zevran had yet to hear it spoken and prevent himself from snickering.

What? It was a delightful image. A pit for cocks.

"I am certain they would love to get their hands on your fuel cells. Or the rest of you." All of Skyhold had quickly become charmed by Poe. Zevran would be lying to say he was any different.

There was certainly one cock who spent a lot of time in that pit, at least.

"If I let everyone who wanted to touch my fuel cells get their wish, I would never get to sleep," Poe said, offering Zevran a grin as he leaned against the side of his X-wing.

"But I'm pretty sure even a Jedi can't just make fuel out of thin air. So it looks like you all are just stuck with 'the rest of me' for the time being."

"And what a shame that is." In so much that it wasn't a shame at all. Zevran leaned back against one of the many crates dragged over with wire and crystals and anything they could spare to satisfy his attempts to mend the ship. "At least I've some idea what I would like to do with the rest of you."

Poe rolled his bottom lip under his teeth, the grin turning a touch more mischievous.

"Just some idea? I'm almost disappointed, Zevran." He hopped up onto the side of the cockpit on the inbuilt ladder, leaning over on it. "If you need a better idea, you only need to ask."

"Perhaps the thing is I've so many ideas I do not know which I'd like to use first." So many lovely possibilities- and there. Presented oh so finely, that ass.

That marvelous ass.

Zevran tilted his head to the side, blatantly admiring. "We ought to make use of your 'cockpit'."

"I'll give you a thorough tour," he promised, tilting his head toward the cockpit in question.

Probably for the best that the fuel cells were burnt out.

He slid into the pilots seat, pushing the chair all the way back so that there was room for Zevran to sit on his lap.

"Come on up, I'll show you exactly which buttons to press."

"I must admit I've always been curious." He pulled himself up on the ladder, swinging over to slide into place on Poe's lap. He leaned back, tipping his head up to nose at the underside of Poe's jaw. "So? Show me how this beast works."

Poe chuckled, sliding his arms around Zevran, and then reaching for the dashboard - more to tease him more than anything. "Pretty simple, you turn it on and then take it for a ride." It would help if he could stop smugly grinning, maybe, but it was hard not to grin with Zevran in his lap nuzzling at the stubble on his chin.

"I can't reach the joystick from here, but that's the easiest way to control it."

His hands moved again, sliding down Zevran's back to pull him more firmly into his lap.

"I'm sure you could reach it if you truly wished." Zevran murmured, dragging his nose in an idle line along Poe's throat, nipping at his skin. A fine man with a fine figure and a fine mind that seemed to be of a mind. He couldn't say he wasn't tempted.

Rolling his hips back against Poe probably wasn't required, but he did it all the same. Why else were they in this cockpit?

"You have not yet explained why it is called the 'cockpit'." He is terribly curious

He bit his lip before leaning in, reaching past Zevran to pull on the Joystick, which, in the cramped condition, butted gently against Zevran's backside.

"It controls the pitch," He murmured, his voice quiet because they were, by necessity, quite close.

"As for names... I think that's easier shown than told," he teased, lips quirking.

"Well then." This was cozy- not a lot of room to manuver- but for one body it was likely more than enough. Were Zevran a human rather than an elf this might be a bit more difficult but as he was not? There was room to shift and brace his feet to offer himself that much more leverage for rolling their hips together in a deliberate grind. "I am, as we elves say, all ears."

Poe's breath hitched, the half smile catching on his lips and spreading - making him bite at his lips slightly.

"Funny, we have that expression, too," He replied, his hand spreading on Zevran's back, pushing him slowly against him as he rolled his hips up to meet that delicious, teasing grind. "Can't claim that I've every been particularly good at listening." Fingers splayed, tugging at Zevran's shirt, pulling it free from his belt and then sliding up against warm skin.

"Apparently I tend to jump in feet first."

Or in this case, cock first, which was making itself very, very well known as he pressed Zevran down against him again.

"You seem much better suited to talking-" Not that he minded it in the slightest. Poe's voice had a pleasing lilt to it, some of the words foreign bu- he did not need to understand to grasp the innuendo. For there was innuendo going on in this cockpit- the very place was a double entendre in and of itself.

Slow to better show off Zevran leaned back to peel his shirt up and off, revealing all his tanned and tattooed skin for Poe's perusal. "That is a fine way to land yourself in trouble, my friend."

A stupid post for stupid threads

for zevran

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