FLYBOY_ POE DAMERON IMAGINES

- imagine #8 //

"Go get 'em out there, Flyboy," you shouted across the hangar.

"See you on the other side, Bomber," Poe called back as the two of you disappeared into the cockpits of your X-Wings.

"You know," you started, after you set your comms up, "Bomber is starting to grow on me."

"You'll have time to talk about this after, Red-3," your Squadron leader said.

"Roger that, Red leader."

"Such a good little soldier," Poe's voice quipped.

"Shut it, Dameron."

"Happily, (Y/L/N)," Poe chuckled over the comms. 

"Enough flirting you two, let's get in and out. I want to be back for dinner," the Red leader piped up.

"Blame the Black leader for any delays," you commented.

"Just get together already," Jess commented before the two squadrons zipped into lightspeed.

By the time the mission was over, you and Poe settled down in the cantina both enjoying a much needed drink. It was an unspoken tradition between you two, no matter the outcome, there were always drinks afterwards. You even had a protocol for if either of you went down in a flight.

Months after you two began with the resistance, the idea of dying in a fight weighed down on both of your minds. You had both agreed that if Poe were to go down, you would keep BB-8 company and promised to fight twice as hard, for the both of you. And if you were to go before him, he made the same promise, minus the BB-8. You swore that if it were to ever come to it you wouldn't dwell on grieving, you'd stay strong and keep living.

Poe heaved out a sigh. He looked over at you, taking in the features on your face as you took a drink of the hard alcohol, watching how your face screwed up at the mild burn. He let out a chuckle at how adorable you looked, even when completely exhausted. 

When these thoughts first filled his mind he tried to push them away, saying he didn't like you that way. But they kept flooding his mind, and he found himself completely taken with you. Even if you didn't know. He's tried many times to tell you, but stopped himself each time. Did he really want to jeopardize the friendship you shared? 

"One more round?" Poe asked seeing your glass empty.

You looked over at him a small smile on your face, "Just one more, Flyboy." 

"You got it, Bomber," he grinned.

Bomber was the callsign he had given you almost two years ago. You had always been awful at being able to time a good bomb drop. The blasters on your X-Wing were much more your speed. But ever since he found out how awful you had been, he would never let it go.

"I challenge you," you said now raising your glass, waiting to clink it with his.

A devilish look crossed Poe's eyes. "You're on," he accepted, holding his glass next to yours.

"On three," you said, "one."

"Two," he counted.

"Three!"

As soon as the word left your lips, the both of you had your head's tipped back slightly chugging away at your drinks. You glanced over at Poe seeing he was slightly ahead of you. So you reached out and pushed at the bottom of his glass. The drink started to dribble over his lips and he sputtered, placing the almost empty glass back on the counter top as you finished off your drink.

"That is cheating!" Poe said wiping his face.

"I just saw a window of opportunity," you said.