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“Finn,” Poe says, jogging into the kitchen, sliding on the tile in his socked feet. “Jess is almost here, I’m gonna head out.”
Finn gives him a once-over. Poe’s eyes are a little wild, his hair worse, and he’s wearing the oversized t-shirt Jess made him that says DONNA AND THE DYNAMOS in sparkling blue paint. (It comes down over his hips, which is probably a good thing, because those – why are those pants so tight?)
“You’re not wearing shoes,” Finn says. He’s sitting at the kitchen table with his engineering textbook and a bagel he’d found in Poe’s freezer, unwrapped and covered in frost. It’s surprisingly not that bad.
“What? Oh. Yeah,” Poe says, looking down at his feet, and he slide-jogs away again. BB-8 stays under the kitchen table by Finn’s feet, ignoring Poe utterly. Part of that’s the bagel, but part of it’s the fact that he tends to get supremely disinterested in Poe’s activities whenever it becomes clear that he’s not invited; Poe says it’s his way of sulking.
Tragically for BB-8, Poe has yet to figure out a successful plan for smuggling his dog into the movie theater. (“BeeBee likes popcorn too much,” Poe had explained sadly.)
He and Jess are going to see Mamma Mia 2, or, as Poe had corrected Finn in song-form, Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again. This has been arranged since the moment the trailer came out. It is, Finn has come to understand, an Important Occasion.
Finn knows the story, of course. It’s the only war story Poe ever seems particularly interested in telling. It goes like:
Once upon a time, Poe was stuck in the medical wing for weeks and weeks recovering from three months of malnourishment and torture (Poe never actually specifies this part, but he’s told Finn these details on other occasions in his usual halting, reluctant way).
Jess came and visited him every day she could, and then Jess caught some kind of flu and she was stuck there too, and two fighter pilots convalescing was of course a recipe for disaster. So the two of them snuck around one day exploring random closets and corners until Poe found, of all holy relics, an elderly DVD player.
They bribed a medic into bringing them a TV, had Snap track down whatever movies he could find (which happened to be a whole bunch of crappy old superhero films) and smugly settled in for a movie marathon.
But it was not to be. For within the DVD player was a single disc of mysterious origin and indomitable strength. A disc that could not be removed, and would replay itself the instant it hit the end credits, as though its mission in this world was to be certain it was viewed as many times as possible.
This was Mamma Mia.
“We watched it,” Poe had said, lifting one hand and counting on his fingers, “seventeen times?”
“Nineteen,” Jess corrected, and Poe frowned.
“I thought it was –”
“You weren’t super conscious for two of those times,” Jess said. “Because you’re stupid and you did stupid things and they gave you a bunch of morphine. But we watched it. And you sang. Every part. And you kept talking about Colin Firth’s chin.”
“It’s a nice chin,” Poe muttered.
“What stupid things?” Finn asked, and Poe gave a dramatic sigh and refused to look at either of them, either out of embarrassment or because he was trying to hide something or both.
Jess helpfully jumped to the rescue. “Stupid things, like, he decided he was cleared for exercise and reopened like three wounds and set himself back a week with his ribs and his –”
“Okay, okay,” Poe interrupted hastily. “No one cares about that. Finn doesn’t care about that. Nineteen. Whatever.”
(He’s always cagey about that, the exact extent of his injuries from any given incident – especially when it comes to this, the worst incident. But that’s okay. Finn isn’t sure he really wants to know.)
Poe comes skidding back into the kitchen now, this time in sneakers and with his hair sort of...almost flattened. “Good?” he asks, turning around like he’s putting on a fashion show, and – really, why are those pants so tight – and Finn gives him a long, faux-critical look.
“Good,” he decides, nodding, and Poe beams.
“Thanks, buddy. You sure you don’t wanna –”
“It’s a you-and-Jess thing,” Finn reminds him, and when Poe shifts his feet uncertainly, he adds, “I gotta study anyway, man, we can go another time.”
Poe brightens at this, like he hadn’t considered that possibility. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, okay, I’ll – you got BeeBee? He gets –”
“One cup of kibble and a spoonful of applesauce at seven o’clock,” Finn recites promptly, looking up at Poe with a wry smile. “I got this, man. Go have fun looking at Colin Firth’s chin.”
Poe sighs. “Shouldn’t have let her tell you that,” he mumbles, then swipes a hand through his hair and steps over to kiss Finn on the cheek. “Study hard, kid,” he says, in his best Serious Old Man voice, and Finn grabs him by the hem of his shirt to reel him back in for an actual kiss.
“Have fun,” he repeats, and Poe nods smartly, like Finn’s just given him a mission. “Don’t forget your key,” he adds.
Poe stops halfway to the door, takes one long step backward, and grabs the key from the table. “You’re a hero, Finn,” he says gravely, and then he’s striding out into the hall, the door swinging closed behind him.
*
It’s about two hours later, when Finn’s abandoned the studying in favor of watching mindless television to soothe his exhausted brain, that he gets a text from Poe.
hey its jess, it reads.
Okay, so not from Poe.
Finn frowns at the phone screen, worry starting to prickle in his stomach. He’s about to reply – to reply with something, when another text comes in.
taking your loser bf for a drink, we’ll be back later
“Oh,” Finn says out loud, sighing his relief. He isn’t sure exactly what he’d expected Jess to say. That Poe fell down a flight of stairs and broke his arm, maybe. Or got into an argument with movie theater security. Got hit by another car. Something.
(He can hear Poe’s indignant huff in his head at all of these possibilities. C’mon, buddy, I’m not that much of a disaster.)
BB-8 whines at him from where he’s curled up against Finn’s side, mournful and unsettled as usual whenever Poe leaves him behind. Separation anxiety, Poe had said, pronouncing the words in that very matter-of-fact way that meant he’d learned them from the internet.
“He’s coming back, BeeBee,” Finn murmurs, reaching out to rub the dog’s ears. “He’ll be back soon.”
This doesn’t seem to soothe BB-8, who lets out a sigh much too big for such a little dog. So Finn gathers him up into his arms, all warm fluff and soft-thumping heart, and BB buries his face dramatically in the crook of Finn’s elbow.
“You’re kind of a weirdo, you know that?” Finn says, cuddling him closer.
BB-8 just snuffles into his arm.
“Yeah. Wonder where you get that from.”
*
Jess returns his loser bf about an hour later, bringing Poe stumbling through the door with one arm slung around Jess’s shoulders and a slightly dazed expression. It clears as soon as he sees Finn, and he pushes away from Jess to – well, to pretty much throw himself at Finn, who catches him with a grunt and a step backward.
“Um,” Finn says. “Hi.”
“Buddy,” Poe says, chin on Finn’s shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around Finn’s back. “Finn. Pal.”
“For fuck’s sake, Dameron,” Jess sighs near the door, and Finn looks over Poe’s shoulder at her, raising his eyebrows. She just shakes her head at him. “Lightweight,” she grumbles, kicking off her shoes and heading for the couch.
“Pants,” Poe mutters, into Finn’s shoulder.
“Uh-huh,” Finn says, shifting Poe’s weight back a little bit onto his own feet. BB-8’s running circles around them, barking his outrage that Poe’s failed to properly greet him.
“Pants’re – oh, BeeBee, oh, no, m’sorry –” Poe drops down to his knees abruptly, and then sort of just flops over onto the floor with his dog, ruffling BB-8’s fur and letting loose a litany of apologies for the crime of leaving him behind.
“Um,” Finn says again. “Was the movie...good?”
“Fucking perfect,” Jess says, now flat on her back on the couch. “Stupid as hell. Fucking beautiful.” She raises her arms, brandishing two thumbs up. “Five stars.”
“It was great,” Poe agrees from the floor, sounding actually choked up about it, and Finn frowns down at him. Poe just blinks back up at him and adds, “These pants? Are so tight.”
Finn lets out a laugh. “Yeah, man, I noticed.”
“Gotta change,” Poe mumbles, and lets one arm fall back across his eyes. BB-8 is gnawing on the other arm in some kind of ferocious display of affection. It looks like it should hurt, but Poe doesn’t seem to notice.
“Okay,” Finn says. “C’mere.” He bends down and manages to drag Poe back up to his feet, walking him to the bedroom with a hand at his elbow. “You good?”
Poe tilts his head a little. “Yeah?” he says, looking puzzled by the question.
“To get changed,” Finn elaborates.
“Oh. Yeah.” And he goes unsteadily toward the dresser, so Finn pulls the door almost-shut behind him, leaving it open just a crack. Just in case.
Jess is waiting on the couch, sitting up now with her knees drawn up to her chest. “Sorry about your lame lightweight boyfriend,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
“Did he,” Finn says, then pauses, brow furrowed. “I mean, did he like the movie?”
Jess sighs heavily. “Yeah. Yeah, he loved that shit, he just –” She glances toward the bedroom door and lowers her voice. “The mom dies. It’s a whole thing.”
“Oh,” Finn says, following her gaze, understanding dawning. He looks over at the bookshelf in the corner, at the photos perched on top in their mismatched frames. Shara Bey beams there front and center in her flight suit, the photograph well-worn.
“Yeah,” Jess says again. “She does a ghost song. It’s sad as fuck, so.” She shrugs. “Drinks.”
Finn opens his mouth to ask what, exactly, a ghost song is, but then Poe comes stumbling out of the bedroom in his boxer shorts, rubbing blearily at his eyes.
“Shit,” Poe says. “Pava, what’d I – did I drink that much?”
“You drank like nothing,” Jess tells him. “You drank less than me. You just suck.”
“Water,” Poe decides, but he slumps against the wall.
"Just – sit down somewhere, I'll get you water," Finn says, but Poe pushes himself back onto his feet and follows Finn to the kitchen anyway. His eyes are reddened at the edges, now that Finn's really looking.
"You should sit down," Finn says, pressing a glass of water into his hand.
"I'm not drunk," Poe replies, allowing Finn to steady him. He downs the water in a few gulps.
Finn pries the glass from his hands and sets it down on the counter. "Didn't say that."
"I'm tipsy," Poe adds.
"I can see that, yeah."
"Finn," Poe says, looking into his eyes with sudden urgency. "I really love you. Finn.”
Finn’s lips twitch in a smile. "I know,” he says. “I love you too."
“Gross,” Jess announces from the couch, but when Finn glances over she’s curled up with BB-8 on her stomach, her eyes closed. “M’staying here,” she adds, like she feels Finn’s gaze.
“Stay there,” Poe replies absently, and Jess gives them a thumbs up again.
“You tired?” Finn asks, and Poe nods. He leans his weight into Finn and allows himself to be marched slowly to bed.
“Finn,” he says, sitting down on the mattress and looking suddenly anxious. “Would you – can you –"
"What?"
Poe bites at his lip. "Would you go see it with me? Again?"
"The movie?"
"Yeah."
Finn pretends to think. "Well,” he says. “I don’t know. I heard it was sad."
"No. Yeah. But it’s worth it. D’you want to?” He’s gazing at Finn steadily, hope shining in his eyes.
Finn leans in to kiss him on the forehead, filled with sudden fondness.
"Yeah, Poe,” he says. “I do."