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Finn popped his head into the hanger, his eyes scanning the room for his favourite head of brown curls. His shoulders droop and he’s about to leave when he hears Jess call him over.
“Finn! Come here and have some shots. Your pilot will be here soon,” Jess winks at him and Finn blushes at the implication of Poe as his. He has no plans except to find Poe so he settles down next to them, thanking Snap for the shot he hands him, and downs it amidst the cacophony of their cheers.
~
Poe struts down to the hanger excitedly. He heard from BB-8 that Finn was down there waiting for him with the other pilots. He’s glad that Finn’s making new friends.
His stomach drops however, when he turns the corner and sees the condition Finn is in. Even BB-8 lets out a series of worried beeps. [Is Friend-Finn alright?]
“What did you guys do to him?!” He questions his squadron and they exchange looks sheepishly. “We didn’t know his tolerance was that low,” Iolo replies apologetically.
“Pooeee!” Finn seems to have finally spotted him after a delay, launching himself into the pilot’s arms. Poe fumbles to catch him and glowers at his friends shooting him knowing looks. “I’ve missed you!” Finn shouts in Poe’s ear, eliciting a wince from the other man.
“Alright buddy, time for bed,” Poe coaxes Finn out of the hanger slowly, shooting one last disapproving glance to his squadron, who at least look guilty.
“What did they do to you?” Poe muttered angrily as Finn once again slipped, saved from falling by Poe’s arms tightening around him.
“That’s it, I’m not allowing them to let you drink without me or Rey. Even BB-8 is more responsible than that. Right, Bee?” BB-8 chirped an affirmative at Poe’s mad rant. He trailed slowly behind them, stopping to wait every time Finn stumbled.
“Are- are you.. mad at me?” Finn slurred, looking up at Poe with wide eyes glazed over with unshed tears. He tightened his grip on Poe’s arm that was currently slung around his waist, as if he was afraid Poe was going to get angry and just dump him there. The thought broke Poe’s heart.
“Of course, I’m not mad at you, bab- buddy,” Poe caught himself, red spreading across his cheeks at BB-8’s inquisitive beep. “I’m mad at the others for not taking care of you. They knew you’ve never drank before, but let you drink until you’re in this condition.” He continued, lifting the hand not holding Finn to card through his friend’s hair reassuringly, watching Finn’s eye slip close and head loll forward to allow Poe better access.
“Oh great. I don’t want you to be mad at me. You’re my friend, and you named me, and you gave me your jacket.” Finn rambled, holding tightly onto Poe’s shirt, as he followed him down corridors. Poe readjusted his grip on Finn, momentarily holding Finn against his chest to unlock his room door. BB-8 rolled in, plugging himself in to charge.
“You’re my bestest friend, excluding Rey, and I know people say that Rey is a better pilot but I think you’re the best pilot in the galaxy. Don’t tell Rey but you’re my favourite.”
Poe felt his heart melt at the openly affectionate expression on Finn’s gorgeous features. Eyes that were usually filled with wary, alertness conditioned from a lifetime under the First Order were now filled only with fondness and trust for the pilot. Poe carefully peeled his jacket off the ex-stormtrooper’s shoulders, chuckling slightly at the way Finn clutched at it so Poe couldn’t take it away. He laid Finn gently down on the mattress, obliging his friend’s objection to having the jacket taken away by covering Finn’s torso with it.
“You’re my favourite too, Finn. You have been ever since you took off your helmet asking for a pilot. In fact, you’re my favourite in more ways than one, and sometimes it kills me when I lay in bed at night knowing I’ll never have you. That I’ll never be able to hold you to sleep and soothe you through your nightmares of your time on the Finalizer.” Poe recalls how he crept into Finn’s room whenever he heard the familiar shouts of terror, whispering endearments to the ex-Stormtrooper until the yelling subsided and the frantic flailing calmed. He had always sneaked out before the man even knew he was there.
“That I’ll never be able to tell you how I feel about you,” Poe had crouched so he was eye level with Finn, his hand stroking his friend’s short hair. “Ah Force. You probably won’t remember this in the morning, but I love you, Finn. I love you more than words can describe, and I like you, and I want nothing more in the galaxy than for you to be mine,” Poe leaned in close, his eyes focused on the lips he dreams about every night, the ones he swoons over when it curls into a smile.
Poe’s words are tinged with sadness and drunk-Finn doesn’t understand it but he wants it to go away. It doesn’t fit Poe.
“Are you going to kiss me?” Finn whispers, pulling Poe out of his reverie. He jerks backwards and his hand is dislodged. “No. No I won’t, Finn. Not without your consent.” He sighs. Kriff, Dameron. He trusts you so much and you nearly broke that trust. Get it together.
“We don’t have that on the Finalizer. What our superiors want, we do. We don’t get a say, even in matters like this,” Finn mutters, eyes hard, hand wrapped tightly on the sleeve of Poe’s jacket. Poe’s heart lurched and anger shoots through his veins at the First Order’s mistreatment of Finn. How anybody could hurt his friend was beyond him.
“Well we’re in the Resistance now, buddy. We will never take your will away. You can do whatever you want,” Poe reassured him. “What do you want, Finn?”
“I want to kiss you,” Finn replied earnestly. “I want everything you just talked about. I want you.”
A bittersweet smile spread across Poe’s face, and he brought a hand up to stroke Finn’s face. “I’m glad to hear that, buddy. I’ll kiss you if you still feel that way in the morning okay? Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Okay,” Finn drifted off to sleep with Poe’s jacket clutched in his hand, a soft press of something warm and wet on his forehead.
~
Finn wakes up to the sound of arguing voices. Or rather, the sound of one voice and a series of angry beeps. He opens his eyes and regrets it immediately when it feels as if someone was shining the headlights of Black One at him, closing his eyes with a groan.
The arguing immediately seizes, and he wants to know who it is but his mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and his head pounds. He feels a glass of water and two pills being pressed into his hand and some muted beeping, who he now recognizes as BB-8. “Here, take this, it should help with the headache.” And that’s Poe. He relaxes slightly knowing that it’s Poe in the room with him. He doesn’t know where he is, but he knows that with Poe, he is safe.
He slowly sits up, opening his eyes slowly to adjust to the light. He pops the pills into his mouth and swallows it with a swig of water, turning to see Poe and BB-8 leaning over him expectantly. “Ugh, where am I? These aren’t my quarters. Were we attacked last night? My head feels like it’s being squeezed by the Force,” He mumbles out.
Something he said must have been wrong, because Poe slowly withdraws backwards, the light leaving his eyes. He holds himself rigid and guarded, in a way he never has before with Finn.
Finn immediately wishes he could take his words back, but he doesn’t even know what he said wrong. He’d say anything to get the warm and welcoming Poe back, the one who’d grin at him when he did something unexpected, the one who held his hand when he was in the hospital after Starkiller. Did something happen between them last night?
“You’re suffering from a hangover. The pilots got you blackout drunk last night. The pills I gave you should help, I snuck it out of the medbay this morning. We’re safe, there’s nothing to worry about,” Poe smiles at him but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There is definitely something to worry about. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Poe’s voice is tinged with a smidge of hope, and Finn wills himself to remember as hard as he can. “I.. I remember going to the hangar to find you, but you weren’t there. The pilots coaxed me into taking shots with them. I can’t really remember much after that.. ugh, I’m glad the First Order banned alcohol. It feels terrible.” Finn trails off, and Poe chuckles, but it feels empty and hollow. Flashes run through his head but it’s all so vague and murky, it feels like it could’ve been a dream.
He thinks of a strong arm supporting him as they walked down a corridor, a warm chest he had lain against. A soothing hand smoothing his hair back, caressing his face as if he’s something precious. As if he’s more than just an ex-Stormtrooper the Resistance is still learning to trust. As if he’s worth something.
He remembers warmth blossoming in his chest, spreading outward to all parts of his body and not from the alcohol. Lastly, he thinks of a gentle, warm voice filled with love and tenderness, and a pair of chocolate brown eyes filled with more emotions he could name. Eyes full of adoration and devotion aimed at him, who just months ago was one disposable soldier in an army of many.
He doesn’t say this though, and Poe pulls away, a self-deprecating smile on his face and it just looks wrong. Poe should never smile like that, especially not in Finn’s presence. “Wait!” Finn shouted desperately, his hand shooting out and latching onto Poe’s wrist as if it were a lifeline. He had to remember. He wanted to remember.
Poe’s eyes widened at the action and he turned to look at Finn, the guard falling away. His eyes brimmed with different emotions, hope, kindness, sentimentality, and suddenly it hit him like a blaster to the chest. It was Poe’s eyes from last night! The memories rushed to him as fast as light-speed skipping, and he feels so stupid but he needs to rectify this.
Finn surged forward, pressing his lips against the pilot’s. It’s messy, and the angle isn’t quite right, Poe tastes of caf and Finn still has morning breath, but it’s perfect and everything Finn ever dreamt of. It takes a second for Poe to react but he’s kissing back and his hands are cupping Finn’s face, his thumbs stroking Finn’s cheeks.
They pull away for breath, and Finn doesn’t know who leaned forward but their foreheads are touching and Poe is beaming again, vibrant, stunning, brilliant, and Finn’s hands are slotted carefully on Poe’s waist and it just feels so right.
“You still want me then?” Poe teases, but there’s a lilt of insecurity in his voice and he holds Finn just a little bit tighter. Finn’s heart squeezes and he quickly kisses the worry away, pulling Poe flush against him. “Always. I meant what I said when I said you’re my favourite.”
They stand like that in the middle of Poe’s room embracing, BB-8 spinning in circles around them, lights flashing. Finn’s head still pounds and Poe’s still overwhelmed by it all, but they wouldn’t trade this moment for the galaxy.