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If Finn survives this, he is never doing anything for Kylo and Hux again. Ever.
“Come fishing with us, “ they said.
“Help us catch bigger fish than anyone else,” they said.
“I’m gonna race that girl and kick her ass,” Kylo said while Hux shook his head in exasperation, and didn’t even give Finn time to protest before pushing the boat to full speed, and Finn- not ready at all- had flown overboard with barely a chance to shout.
So now here he is, dying within sight of the shoreline and the boat clearly not circling back for him. Great.
Perhaps he should’ve mentioned that he can’t swim, when they dragged him out of bed that morning.
Too fucking late now, he thinks, giving one last yell as flails ineffectually and sinks beneath the surface.
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He involuntarily opens his mouth to shout when an arm wraps around his waist, inhales a mouthful of salty ocean water, and promptly fails to contain his already out-of-control panic.
Passing out is the only way to deal with this, really.
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The first thing Finn does upon regaining consciousness is cough up what seems like twenty gallons of water while someone says, “Easy, buddy, you’re gonna be fine,” from about a million miles away.
The second thing he does is look around to find the source of that voice.
The third thing Finn does is open his traitorous mouth and say, “Holy shit, I made it into heaven.”
Because the guy hovering over him in concern? Definitely an angel.
A very wet, and now visibly flustered angel.
“Anyway, aha,” he says, “it’s a good thing you were so close to shore when you went overboard, I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to you in time.”
Finn moves to get up, grateful when the angel gently helps him into a sitting position against the rail of- another boat?
“This young lady was kind enough to swing by and pick us up,” the guy says, likely in response to Finn’s- totally justified- flailing, “she’s gonna drop us at the pier, where an ambulance will take you to the hospital.”
“What’s your name?” He asks, because he really can’t keep calling the guy ‘angel’ in his head, but also because he’d really like him to keep talking.
“Poe. Poe Dameron, what’s yours?”
“I’m Finn. Good to meet you, Poe.”
“Good to meet you too, Finn. Though,” and here he smiles, and it’s just as devastating as Finn thought it would be, “the circumstances could be better.”
“I don’t know about that,” Finn says, and some small part of his brain screams stop, stop, stop! but the words still come out, “I’m pretty sure you gave me mouth-to-mouth, so it isn’t all bad.”
Poe laughs, lovely and rumbling and warm.
He barely has time to think oh no before he’s fallen a little bit in love.
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The girl who fished them out of the water is named Rey and is also, incidentally, the one Kylo had insisten on racing, thus getting Finn into this whole mess to begin with.
“I saw you fall off the boat and it didn’t look like they were gonna go back for you, so,” she says, shrugging.
Finn silently vows to quit his job as soon as possible, unwilling to put up with Kylo and Hux any further.
Once his insurance covers the hospital bill for him almost drowning, anyway.
And maybe after he comes up with some sort of spectacular revenge plot.
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Poe shows up at the hospital shortly after a doctor checks him over, bearing a shirt and sweatpants that are obscenely soft and well-worn, and a really nice leather jacket.
“Wanted to check in on you,” he says, as if saving his life wasn’t enough, “figured you might need something to wear home.”
“How’d you get past the nurse?”
Poe runs a hand through his hair sheepishly, blushing a bit. It’s ridiculously endearing.
“I may have told her I was your boyfriend.”
From the look on his face, Finn thinks he’s not alone in seeing that less as a lie and more like a hopeful prediction of the future.
He’s willing to see where it leads.