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“Just wait until you see this. You’re gonna love it.”
Finn sighs and shifts in his seat but when Poe glances over he makes sure to smile. Hyperspace still whips by beyond the Falcon’s transparisteel and it’s obvious there’s still a ways to go. But Poe is so excited, Finn’s trying his hardest to keep his spirits up.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to go. The lights are all Poe has talked about for months; it’s a point of nostalgia for him. Shara Bey and Kes Dameron and little tiny Poe Dameron, all shoved into a cramped transport. Headed back to Naboo every year for the Festival of Light. It’s obviously something that Poe treasures. A family memory. And he obviously wants to share it. They finally have time, just the two of them. Honestly, Finn should be elated! Poe Dameron? All to himself? For three whole days? At any other time, it would put a spring in his step even if it also puts an anxious knot in his throat. But now?
Now it’s going to be three days, with Poe, trying to keep his feelings to himself under bright stars and brighter lights. A vacation, one might even call it. But it’s not even his feelings about Poe that are sneaking in; those are persistently present. Unresolved but familiar. No, this is— It’s that same suffocating feeling that creeps in when the nights get late and the Resistance runs him ragged and there’s no one and nothing to distract him. What about his family? Finn’s family? Was there someone out there still looking for him, hoping to find him again? A tiny part of Finn’s heart hopes so. The larger part is resigned to not knowing and moving forward. It’s been so long since the First Order and all his training. It’s very if not totally likely that whoever brought him into this galaxy is dead. Finn knows this. Is acutely aware of it. It doesn’t stop the wondering though. Doesn’t stop the hurt.
“You ok over there?”
Poe’s soft voice breaks through the miasma around him and Finn jolts.
“Fine!” Ah kriff, that sounds the opposite of. He clears his throat, tries again. “Fine. Just…lost in thought is all.”
“Yeah?”
Poe keeps a steady eye on him that Finn can’t quite meet. It’s a prompt, he knows it is, but he can’t quite bring himself to elaborate. Instead, he placates with a shake of his head and a quick, “I’ll tell you later.”
Poe hums in that way of his, the way that says I’m gonna dig this out of you whether you like it or not and Finn braces internally. But saved! By the Falcon’s indicator shrilly beeping. Poe squints at him a second more before a gentle smile breaks on his face.
“Naboo, comin’ up.”
Finn resists the urge to let out a deep breath, just repurposes the tension into some form of excitement. “How’d you even land this little getaway? You still haven’t told me.”
Poe passes him a secretive smile and says, “I’ll tell you when you tell me about all those shifty thoughts in that head of yours.”
Ah. So he’s not letting it go. But it makes Finn smile anyway; he shakes his head. Just like Poe to grab onto something, an idea, a feeling, with all the tenacity of a bounty hunter. Poe reaches across the gap and pulls them out of lightspeed, even though he could’ve very reasonably asked Finn to pull it. But the motion morphs into that trademark Dameron distance as Poe’s hands linger. He leans in, close enough to say there’s very little distance between them at all, and Finn has to consciously remember not to close the gap. Not even for a kiss. Just for contact. Just for comfort. It would be easy enough to lose himself in Poe Dameron. Dangerously easy to put aside all his hurting feelings if the pilot were to wrap him up in those arms.
“You ready to see something beautiful?”
I wouldn’t have to go anywhere for that, is the first thought that comes to mind. But Finn swallows around it and says instead, “Absolutely,” as evenly as he can. Poe’s smile gets a bit wider, then he’s got two hands back on the controls and eases them down through Naboo’s sparkling atmosphere.
Poe actually skirts the capitol city. Gives it a slow flyby. At first, Finn wonders why. But as he watches out the cockpit, he quickly finds out. Theed rises on the horizon looking as magical as Poe promised and Finn’s lips part in wonder. Mist and fog rise off tumbling waterfalls from the city’s edge, twinkling yellow lights dapple rounded architecture and a whole parsec’s worth of glinting glass. As they come closer, Finn sees cobbled streets lined with lanterns, vendors, hundreds and hundreds of humans and Gungans. Children with sparklers, parents watching aimlessly as they play in the streets.
“Wow…” he breathes. Poe was right, it’s absolutely beautiful.
Beside him, Poe chuckles softly. “That’s not even the best part yet.”
To his surprise, Poe doesn’t land anywhere in the city. Instead, he circles out to the plains just below, landing in an open field at a decent range. There are some other ships already there, but not many. And they’re all some ways away. The Falcon touches down with one final jolt then Poe smacks his arm affectionately.
“C’mon, show’s about to begin.”
Finn frowns a little but follows willingly enough. Honestly, he’d thought being in the city would be the show. Seeing the strands of lights and decorated buildings. But no, there seems to be something else in store. Whatever it is, it ramps Poe’s excitement up to eleven and this time, the cheer Finn feels in return is more real. Even without all the lights and whatever the surprise is, seeing Poe Dameron smiling ear to ear would be enough to soothe the dull ache in his heart. So he lets Poe grab a blanket, guide him with a gentle pressure at the base of his spine. When they reach the Falcon’s top hatch, Finn’s almost disappointed because it means Poe has to take his hand back for them to fit. Out on the Falcon’s hull, they have a perfect view of the city. Finn sighs mostly to himself, some kind of yearning still wriggling beneath his happy veneer.
“Mom and Pop would bring me to this every year,” Poe says as he flaps the blanket out on the hull. “Right up until she died. After that, Pop just…couldn’t come back. And I understand why now. Grief is a helluva thing. My dad got a bit solitary, I got a bit messy. Everyone deals with it in different ways.”
He sighs gustily as he sits, reaching up to tug at Finn’s wrist and bring him down. In truth, Finn’s not sure what to say. Navigating Shara Bey is unfamiliar territory. It’s not that Poe isn’t forthcoming about her. In fact, he’s very proud of her. But Finn also knows that with Shara Bey comes a certain kind of introspection, a kind of quiet that is atypical of Poe Dameron. He doesn’t particularly wants to kill Poe’s good mood so he treads lightly.
“Is this the first time you’ve been back since?” he carefully asks.
“Yeah,” Poe nods. “Finally had a reason to.”
Finn’s just about to ask what that is when Poe slides in a bit closer. Plants his hand behind Finn’s back and leans gently into his shoulder. Ah. That trademark Dameron distance. Of which there is none now. Kriff, what to do with that? He’s never asked if Poe felt the same. He should have, because the touch of him steals the question right out of Finn’s mouth and the breath almost out of his lungs with the solid warmth. With the way Poe’s eyes look in the moonshine. Poe glances down, back up, and Finn’s so terribly focused on the points they’re touching that he barely hears the tolling of a bell somewhere in the city.
“Get ready,” Poe murmurs, and the sky erupts.
Finn glances away and his mouth drops all the way open. He looks up and—stars, what a sight. Naboo’s bright moons are outshone by fireworks. Hundreds of them. More than he’s ever seen in his entire life. Reds, blues, greens, pinks, every conceivable color explode in beautiful patterns over Theed’s rounded back, rain down in webs to the city below. Faintly, Finn thinks he hears music. Cheering. Singing. And for as long as the show goes on, Poe stays right by his side. Slowly but surely pressing into a line so welcome Finn melts into it. Just the thought of it, the beauty of it all—how Poe’s smile lights with each rumbling crack, conversely growing softer and softer by turn until the expression on his face mirrors the bone-deep longing in Finn’s gut. His head dips so close to Finn’s he can feel the brush of dark curls against his ear. Then they come together, the pilot’s cheek rested gently against his shoulder and Finn breathes deep, saturated in what might be contentment for the first time in his life.
And there he stays. They stay. Melded together in a way Finn’s never known until the last explosions echo and die out over the plains. Then Finn doesn’t dare move. How could he possibly break whatever spell this is? All he wants to do is stay like this until the stars burn out. How could he move?
Turns out, he doesn’t have to.
“Thank you,” Poe mumbles, “for sharing this with me. I can’t tell you what it means.”
He doesn’t move. Finn swallows hard, tries for teasing. “It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me.”
It doesn’t work and the pilot’s quiet at that for a moment.
“I know…” Poe starts slowly, voice vibrating through his bones. “I know you wonder, about your family. I know what it’s like to lose that; I can’t imagine what it would be like to have never had it. But I hope—” His voice breaks minutely and he takes a breath Finn can feel in his own chest. “I’ve been hoping, for a while, that I could offer you something like it. A home. A family. That’s why I thought you might like to come here. Why I wanted you to share this silly little tradition. With me.”
That spurs him into action, because he desperately needs to see Poe’s face. Does it hold the same hope Finn’s held in his heart or is he reading too much into it? There have been so many times, so many things he’s wondered but hasn’t dared to ask. It sounds like Poe wants the same thing. That he has the same tender hope. But it’s not enough. It has to be said; there’s no room for error, not with the way he feels now. He pulls back, just enough to see Poe’s face. Wets his lip and looks for words that have suddenly deserted him.
“Poe—” he tries.
When he can’t fish anything else from the ether, Poe smiles at him. Still just a breath away.
“You’re family, Finn. I wanna share just about everything with you,” he murmurs, “if you wanna share it with me.” He’s not sure how but somehow Poe’s twisted toward him, staring at his lips for one infinite moment. “I love you, and I’m sorry it took so long to tell you…” Finn gasps, dazed, and Poe tenderly traces an old scar on his cheek. Follows the line of his jaw and pulls at his chin. “Can I kiss you? I’d really, really like to.”
Finn can’t even move fast enough but he slips into place like he’s always belonged there. Poe’s lips are warm and firm, sliding against his in a way that sparks deep in his stomach and shimmers in his lungs. Thought evaporates when Poe’s clever tongue dips into his mouth and finally Finn has to take a breath. Which makes Poe break away, but thankfully he doesn’t go far. He stays just as close, presses their foreheads together, lips damp and shining in the moonlight. And that lonely longing ache in Finn’s heart fades to nearly nothing.
“So what do you say?” Poe asks gently, bumping their noses together. “Think I can take you home?”
It’s a teasing tone and Finn scoffs, carefully keeping the I forgot I always had a home if I had you and the I’m sorry too to himself for now. Maybe he’ll say it later, when he doesn’t feel quite so raw. Say it with Yes, of course I want to be your family. And I want to share myself with you. And definitely I love you too. Yeah, he’ll certainly say all of that later. They have time. For now, he just says, “You can take me home any time.”
It makes Poe laugh and kiss him again and really, what could feel more like home than that?