"You didn't have to show me up in the sim, you know that, right?" Ben Solo said, shoving his way out of the sonic showers.
Poe Dameron, Ben's closest friend and trusted X-wing wingman, caught himself against the slippery, condensation slick wall in time to avoid an unpleasant meeting with the floor.
"Force, Ben. You know I didn't do it on purpose! How was I supposed to know you were going for the proton torpedos after banking left? It was a good thing I managed to slip the tracker onto that attack cruiser, else- you aren't even listening to me!"
'Confrontational,' 'mouthy,' that's what his mother calls him. But Poe isn't about to let Ben Kriffing Solo get away with insinuating that he'd purposely ridiculed him in the flight simulator-under Luke Skywalker's supervision, no less.
Poe followed Ben into the changing room in time to get a get a bit of Force-inspired dirty laundry to the face.
"Sithspit! Ben, that's enough. Prince or no, you aren't going to throw your disgusting trousers at me like I'm your nursemaid."
Untangling the trouser legs, which had inexplicably knotted themselves across his face, Poe was met with the long smirking face of his friend. Ben's eyes glittered with mischievous intent.
Confrontational he may be, Poe also knew a ceasefire when he saw one.
"All right. I'll talk first, shall I?"
Carefully avoiding the trail of sonic slick Ben had trailed into the changing room, Poe sank onto the low bench next to him. The air filled with an expectant layer of tension. Sucking in air between his teeth, and shoving down more than a little pride, Poe searched for the words to get through to his thick-skulled friend.
"Look, I get it. Skywalker's important to you, yeah? His opinion matters."
No angry outburst was always a good sign to continue.
"I wasn't trying to, I dunno, show you up today. I promise. You're my best friend. I wouldn't do something like that."
Reaching his stride, Poe dared to take his speech to the next level.
"It'd be like me accusing you of trying to one up me in the sim, except with Aunt Mae instead of Skywalker. You know how much my family's obsessed with her."
Next to him, Ben shifted on the uncomfortable metallic bench. "Your Aunt Mae's a geriatric. I hope she's not planning on flying an X-wing anytime soon."
"Yeah, well, it's the point I was trying to make."
A pregnant pause, then, uproarious laughter from both boys. The changing room walls augmented their mirth, sending loud guffaws out into the open air. For the first time since exiting the flight simulator, the dark mood that had fallen over the pair was broken. Ben turned to Poe and extended his fist for their "secret" post-training celebratory gesture. It was something the two had made up on a joint family vacation on Naboo many years ago. And like all good things, it never went out of vogue.
No matter how upset Ben made made Poe, he could never leave his friend hanging. Handshake completed, their friendship sealed, Poe reached forward in one swift move and yanked at a lock of Ben's dark forelock. Ben wrestled him away with an easy flick of his hand, face contorted into a fake scowl. In the next moment, Ben's face smoothed over once more. He then assumed a posture-back straight, chin tilted down-that meant he was going into full diplomatic mode, something he no doubt picked up from his royal mother.
"Listen, Dameron, I'm sorry I got angry. You, more than anyone, don't deserve to be drug into my family's mess. I guess I'm angry at myself. I was the one who broke formation in the sim, and I was the one who fell for the Mithel maneuver."
Poe snorted good naturedly. "Yeah, yeah, save some guilt for the rest of us, Highness. You were right to deploy those torpedos and I was wrong to have run the gunners. And you know I love your family's drama. Keeps me from thinking of my own."
"Aunt Mae still demanding you clip her dirty toenails, huh?"
Poe's groan of dismay could've woken the dead. With an almighty lurch, he stumbled up and off the locker bench to retrieve his clothes from the fresher. Struggling to slip into his tunic-still too small, he'd been meaning to ask his mom to take out the shoulders for ages-he gave a muffled but very vocal choice reply.
"Now that's not nice."
Head finally emerged from its woolen prison, Poe gave his friend a dark glare to where he was now changing across the room.
"Coming from the guy who called her a geriatric."
"Not a lie," Ben shot back, cheekily.
"Yeah, well. Whatever. You think you're gonna hear about the sim at home?"
Now it was Ben's turn to groan. "Probably. Uncle Luke's coming over to dinner tonight. Commander Snoke's apparently got intel on the underground Republic movement. Kriffing Dad's in the Outer Rim again, so, no buffer. He's probably going to tell Mom everything that happened in the sim."
Both boys finished collecting their belongings and convened to the locker exit. Bright light from the solar system's two suns spilled across the academy lawn. In the distance, a group of young padawans could be seen training in the initiate salles, wooden training sabers held carefully in hand.
Glancing over to Ben, Poe caught a look of serious consideration on his friend's face as he examined the younglings. It wasn't too long ago that Ben was training in the salles: expectations high and even higher expectations placed upon him. Perfection was paramount in the Skywalker-Solo household. Especially as the famed descendants of Anakin Skywalker. Sometimes Poe didn't know how Ben handled it all. When he cared to consider his friend's increasingly frequent angry outbursts, he'd guess it had something to do with being a Jedi in such a Force powerful household. The fights had to be something ridiculous. And Force knows Poe had enough issues at home himself.
"Hey. Comm me tonight if you want to talk, yeah?" Poe bumped his shoulder into Ben's, a little harder than needed, hoping to jolt his friend out of his melancholy thoughts.
Ben shot him a crass hand gesture in response.
"Now who's being rude?"
Ben gave him a slanted look, as if he knew about Poe's private thoughts about his family. Darn Jedi and their dirty mind tricks. But, contrary to his positively un-princely hand signal earlier, the words that came out of mouth were inordinately sincere.
"Poe? Thanks for being a good friend. I know I make it difficult sometimes, but, thanks."
Poe had been taught to reward Ben's sincerity with sincerity.
"Ben? You're welcome."
i. Originally a one-shot comment fic for gelsey on LJ's Star Wars Fic Fest. Prompt: "Poe Dameron & Ben pre-Kylo Ren - Poe has always been kind, and it seems sometimes that Ben was born angry. Their friendship before it all went wrong."