This cute dork must become dateable character. Not with others main date-target, but like in his own secret ending?
I have a bunch headcanons about him and just can’t hold my admiration for this adorable alien boy
so this is all @butteredonions fault because, okay, listen. LISTEN. I saw the art by @cherryandsisters that had Poe Dameron and Keith back to back and I kind of. died. a bit. because it was perfect. and then while talking to the darling Miss Onions, she said ‘what if?’ and now I’m here. this isn’t going to be the only fic I write in this sudden verse. I’m so mad at myself. but also screaming. anyway. here. have the voltron/star wars crossover that spawned overnight.
familiarity in misalignment
The stars were stunning here. D’Qar didn’t have such an unfettered view of the stars, and when Poe was in his X-wing, everything blurred by in a swirl of light and dark. Here, on the observation deck of a ship in another reality, it was - nice. Quiet. Different from the nightmares that pricked his memories full of holes.
Tucking the blanket under his thighs, Poe dropped his elbows on his knees. The constellations were just off, enough of a tick to the left to give Poe a headache. But compared to his hell of a night, it was soothing. Familiarity in misalignment. Poe snorted. Well, he hadn’t expected the nightmares to just leave him be because more exciting things were afoot.
Yawning, Poe tucked his chin into his palm and smacked his lips. The stars blurred. The dark between reached like fingers, curled and vicious and digging - jerking his head up, Poe exhaled. Stars. Coping. Well.
The door behind him hissed. Poe frowned, twisting before the observation screen. Ah. One of their hosts. During dinner (which had been some of the strangest food he’d ever eaten, though Rey and Finn had been pleased as punch), Shiro had asked pointed and bafflingly specific questions about the lightspeed tech they had aboard their ships. He’d delved into the mechanics of it with Rey and the physics of it with Poe. Every inch the leader. Prodding for answers, uncertainty in the tense line of his jaw and the narrowed pinch of his eyes. Always on the defense.
Now, in the delicate light of the observation deck and with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Shiro reminded Poe surprisingly of Finn.
“You’re up late,” Poe said. Shiro blinked, head snapping up in surprise. His shock quickly melted into a blank smile, fingers clenched in the blanket. Poe frowned.
Shiro cleared his throat, his tone stiff and formal. “I didn’t realize anyone else would be up. Are the rooms not to your liking?”
“They’re fine, kid. It’s not often I get such an amazing view of the stars, is all.” Poe gestured. “Come on in, pull up some floor. Do you know the constellations here?”
Shiro hesitated. The sweats he wore were too long, nearly covering his toes. His sleep shirt was too small. The metal fingers of his right hand twisted heavily in the blanket he’d wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Poe raised a brow. Shiro’s jaw shifted. He stepped inside and the door slid shut behind him, cutting off the light from the hall and bathing everything in a soft blue glow. Poe wiggled to the side, patting the floor beside him, and Shiro tentatively folded down beside him.
“So, constellations? You know ‘em?”
Shiro shook his head, adjusting the blanket around his knees. “Not in this quadrant. I knew the ones before, though. What are the stars like in your reality?”
“Slightly different.” Poe cradled his cheek in his palm, gaze bouncing over Shiro’s haggard expression. Circles under his eyes, sallow skin, hollow cheeks. Poe clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You don’t look so hot.”
Scrubbing at his nose, at his scar, Shiro tilted his chin down. The stars caught on the metal of his wrist. “I’m fine.”
Poe snorted. “Mhm. I know a nightmare face when I see one, kid. Nighttime can be a load of bantha shit if you let it. This your coping mechanism?”
Blinking, Shiro furrowed his brow. He remained quiet. Watching. Weighing options. Poe waited, tapping a finger against his cheek, holding Shiro’s gaze. For a moment, he dropped the facade of a carefree and battle hungry pilot, allowed Shiro a peek behind the curtain.
Circles under his eyes courtesy of Kylo Ren and his fucking control issues.
A tick in his jaw he couldn’t quite contain.
Rippling shivers in the fine bones of his wrists, burned into his bones from the manacles he would never be free of.
A moment. An understanding. Shiro’s mouth dropped open. Poe quirked a brow. “Now you’re getting there.”
Swallowing, Shiro clicked his teeth together. Exhaled. Tucked himself deeper into the blanket. “How long have you had them?”
“The current ones I’ve only had for a few months.” Poe glanced out the window at a lazy comet spiralling between starlight. “The others are oldies but goodies from my glory days before the Resistance. Different horrors thrown together to make sleeping a right dick.”
Quiet stretched between them, as delicate as the spidersilk light of a fading star. Poe bounced his gaze from constellation to constellation, never straying into the darkness between, remaining stubbornly within the light. His thoughts were sharp but his body was fuzzy. The nightmares lurked, petulant.
“I’m -” Shiro started, stopped, started again, “I don’t remember the dreams. Just the feelings. Sometimes I catch glimpses but it’s just smears of colour. The feelings though. Those hurt.”
Stars, this was a mess. Falling into this reality had been disorienting, but war was the same across the board: a bundle of exhaustion and fear, of close calls and near misses, of not so lucky moments and screaming grief. The kid was young. Scarred in a way Poe couldn’t quite comprehend, more than the horror carved into his skin. Unfair, that. War was unfair. How it had hooked its claws into Shiro was even more so.
Sighing, Poe scrubbed his hands through his hair. “What helps?”
“Not talking about it,” Shiro said, quirking a smile when Poe laughed.
“See, I keep trying that and it does squat. Let’s try one of mine instead.” Straightening his spine, Poe lifted a hand and tilted his palm, spreading his fingers wide until each fingertip touched a star. “We don’t know the constellations here, but we can play around with that. Come up with some fancy names for stars we see and claim them as our own.”
Shiro laughed, a gut punch sound that rattled wrong. Poe nudged their shoulders together. “Come on, kid. If I’m doing your coping mechanism, it’s only fair you do mine.”
“What’s the hand thing?” Shiro asked, mimicking the wide spread of Poe’s fingers. His eyes narrowed and he adjusted the angle. Most pilots got it on the first try. Poe hid a smile. Finn never understood this exercise, but every single pilot Poe had coached had picked it up damn near immediately. Shiro was no exception.
Tilting his head, Poe explained, “Helps you pick your stars. Each fingertip represents the beginning of a different constellation. Let’s see if we can’t come up with something to wow the others, huh?”
They spent the next hour or so locating and mapping the stars with their fingers. Shiro’s posture relaxed the further into the game they got, until a proper laugh escaped him when Poe explained exactly what an Ewok was and why the constellation beginning on his middle finger was the spitting image of one. The tense line of Shiro’s jaw eased; his shoulders dropped and his gaze went bright with mischief and excitement. A proper response to a game. The kid deserved a bit of nonsense considering the position he was in. A single night where the nightmares were secondary to a bit of silly fun.
By the time the lights started to mimic dawn in the observation deck, Shiro had laughed himself hoarse and tired, snickering as Poe recounted the story of Luke Skywalker and the Tauntaun. Poe picked out a last constellation, quietly naming it Bey before dropping his hands into his lap. The last prickles of darkness at the edge of his thoughts drifted away into starlight. Shiro exhaled shakily. Poe waited.
“Thanks for this,” Shiro whispered.
Poe shrugged. “Honestly, it helped me too. Talking is great and all, but sometimes just chasing the nightmares away with the light is more satisfying.” Poe quirked his lips. “Also, Finn doesn’t get it. He always ends up calling me a cheater.”
Shiro laughed, proper and worn. “How do you cheat at star naming?”
“That’s what I said!”
The lights grew brighter. Shiro broke their conversation with a truly incredible yawn. Poe pushed to his feet, groaning at the pop of his hip and the numb tingle of his thighs. Shiro followed him up, yawning again, blanket hunched up around his ears. They burned most of the night away playing chase with the stars. Hopefully, that was enough.
Poe clapped a hand to Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro blinked blearily at him. “Get some sleep, kid. I’ll keep everyone in line until you can join us again.”
“I’m okay.”
“Nope, none of that, we’re not doing that again.” Even though Shiro was taller, Poe marched Shiro to the door and nudged him back toward the Paladin quarters. “I didn’t share a top secret coping mechanism only to have you pass out in your breakfast. Now, go.”
Cracking a smile, Shiro staggered his way down the hall, yawning wide again as he disappeared around a corner. Stifling his own yawn, Poe picked his way back to the guest quarters, to where Rey would be fighting with Finn over the covers and the both of them would quietly ask if Poe wanted to talk. Strange new reality, strange constellations, but same concepts.
