#poexfinn

Rose did it too. And the general, and Westley and just about every person on the base. Different people from different cultures did it in different ways. Some people would kiss twice, once on each cheek. Some 4 times, a back and forth from cheek to cheek in a marvellous dance to try and avoid one another’s lips. Some on the forehead and some on the hand. Some on the nose, and once even on his hair… for some reason or another. And again, Finn didn’t mind this. It was a way of showing they cared and he accepted it gladly, knowing that people surrounding him actually wanted him there.

Poe, on the other hand, seemed to have an entirely different way of expressing affection. A way which could arguably be considered more intimate than the gentle pecks on the cheek that Rey would impart. 

Finn had discovered this a little after a very dangerous mission.

It had gone terribly wrong. Essential valves, airlocks and such pieces of the ship were blown to smithereens as they landed. Their clothes were soaked with blood that wasn’t their own, their eyes blown wide in shock and fear as they clambered out of the smouldering wreck, each from their opposite ends of it. Their hearts were racing and everything seemed to have slowed down between them, as the flames started to lick where their feet had previously rested at.

Finn remembered staring across the wreck, only to catch eyes with a very disheveled Poe, who seemed to have several thoughts running through his head. None of which Finn thought would ever be repeated to any commanding officer of any sorts. As they locked eyes, all those thoughts seemed to completely fly from his head however, and was replaced with a simple, clear emotion.

Pure relief.

Poe strode over, almost desperately, to a very tired and confused FInn. He seemed to have the same determination in his eyes he got when he was charged with a particularly difficult mission that he truly wanted to finish. 

When he finally got to Finn, Poe grabbed the hem of the jacket, tugged, and dragged Finn straight to his chest. He wrapped his arms around Finn’s back, and tucked his face into the crook of his neck. He seemed to crumple into Finn, collapsing into his chest and leaning on him in a way that seemed beyond physically. He wrapped his arms tighter, almost eliminating any space between the two of them. Finn didn’t understand completely why, but he returned the favour. Wrapping his arms around Poe’s back and allowing himself to relax in the comforting grip. A grip that told him he would always be safe.

He felt warmth spread from his cheeks, running all the way down his neck. It seemed to fill him completely, and allowed him to somehow breathe easier. There was a complete peace and almost euphoria that allowed his mind to drift aimlessly. He wanted to simply stay in that comforting embrace, for as long as his arms would hold. 

It was, however, unceremoniously interrupted by two medics running towards them. 

Poe and Finn had to unfortunately untangle from one another, sighing and turning slowly away from each other as the medics prodded and poked, trying to see if anything had been seriously damaged.

Everything felt a little colder then for Finn. He found that ‘full’ feeling he had earlier had somehow dissipated, leaving nothing but a general emptiness. 

Since then, Finn had become hyper aware of every little way that Poe interacted with him. He became aware of the way Poe’s fingers would linger, ever so slightly, at his wrist whenever handing something to him. Almost as if a gentle caress. How his eyes would flicker down to Finn’s lips, then quickly back up as if not to be caught. How he would gently nudge Finn’s shoulders just to let him know that he was there. Small, imperceptible, gentle and butterfly inducing things, which had Finn blushing more than he ever had.

Finn very much hated the way his heart hammered when Poe looked up from working on his x-wing, with small strands of hair fanning his face, and caught eyes with him and gave him a gentle smile. Not the usual, flirtatious smirk which everyone on the base had been privy to, but a kind, wide, true smile which made Finn melt.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Poe. How his jaw seemed to have a subtle shadow of stubble on it every time he caught a glimpse. How he always seemed attentive to what was going on, even when relaxing. Always smiling, always joking. 

He especially noticed it one night when the alcohol was a bit sweeter than the bitter loneliness, and everyone seemed in need of the temporary joy that it may provide. The resistance was tired and wanted to relax, and so bottles were passed around. Poe’s gaze would flicker to Finn’s, and his cheeks would heat when their eyes met. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it wasn’t, Finn simply brushed it off and continued with the night as usual.

Time became a blur. People came and people left. More drinks were had, more were thrown up. Laughter permeated the air, like a mild breeze on a warm day. The most beautiful of feelings dancing around, open and exposed. People holding one another, knowing that they might not be there the next day. People crying and smiling at once, as they remembered those fallen. Lovers finally professing feelings, as they knew that they may only get one chance to do it. Kissing, everywhere.

There was a warm, comforting weight on Finn’s shoulder. Brown, beautiful curls and whiskey coloured eyes glowed by the firelight, gazing back towards his own. The warm breath tickling his neck and fingers interlacing with his own. He was hazy. The world didn't completely make sense, but that warmth that he loved so, was returning. Filling him to the brim with a joy which couldn’t be matched. His own head started tilting. Resting. They sat for an eternity.

He leant in too far.

The smell of him was too much. The way it let him slowly drift further into the euphoric haze, and allowed him to simply forget everything. The way his eyes tilted up and flicked to his lips. The way he bit his own and shifted forwards as if to meet him halfway. They way his lips seemed to capture his own.

The sweet taste of the liquor still sitting there, oh so present and oh so unimportant. The way he groaned oh so quietly, and pulled himself closer. The nip on the lip. The swipe of the tongue, begging to go further. The grip tightening on the jackett and the fingers finding their way to interlace with hair. Everything was too much, and yet not enough. They wanted more. They wanted longer. They wanted and wanted and wanted. 

They both pulled away, struggling to breath. Finn gasping for air and trying to make the world stop spinning. The light buzzing that had made him so brave earlier and so docile seemed to have faded to a more present, alert sensation. One telling him to grab Poe by the shirt and pull him into hidden, unknown areas and find out just how far they were both willing to go.

Then Poe smiled.