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When you finally flutter your eyes open, it feels like new life. Slowly, you realize you're not in the snow at Starkiller base. You're inside somewhere--the Resistance base on D'Qar, you hope--laying flat on your back.
You turn your head, trying not to wince at the pain it causes, and your eyes find Poe. He's in a chair next to you, elbows on his knees, face nested against his closed hands. His hair is messy, hanging in short waves around his head.
"Hey," you murmur, and he jerks upright.
You feel something funny in your gut at the way he rakes his eyes over your body, almost as if disbelieving you're awake, then a huge grin cracks across his face as he meets your eyes again. "Welcome back to the land of the living," he says.
"What happened?" you ask, shifting to sit up on your forearms. But the pain overpowers your will, and Poe puts his hand on your shoulder to make you lay back down.
"We won," Poe says simply. "Chewy got you back on the Falcon before the planet exploded."
"And Rey?" you ask quickly, your heart fluttering at the idea that maybe you failed to protect her. Maybe she was dead because you hadn't been strong enough to defeat Ren yourself. You haven't really known her long, but she already feels like a sister.
"She's fine," Poe said, and you feel a wash of relief flood you. "She was with you when Chewy came to save you two."
You close your eyes, letting the calm settle into you, then ask, "Can I see her?"
You open your eyes again and look at Poe, who looks a little… disappointed, maybe? You're not quite sure. You've spent your life around people who wear helmets and masks most of the time, so reading people's faces isn't a skill you possess very strongly.
You think you're making a quick study of it, though.
Poe's expression goes back to normal. "R2, turns out, had the rest of the map," Poe says. "Rey's gone to find Luke Skywalker on Ahch-To."
You try to ignore the pang in your chest at the idea that Rey would leave you. Part of you understands, though. And part of you, when you admire the glint in Poe's eyes as he looks at you warmly, think you'll be just fine without her until she returns. You still have a friend here.
You haven't really known Poe very long, either. But there is something about Poe that's almost magnetic, and you can't ignore the way your heart skips when he says your name.
The name he gave you.
"Who's R2?" you ask, and Poe laughs.
"Droid. Used to belong to Luke."
"Oh," you say, and let your eyes close again.
"That's not the best part of the story, though," Poe says, and you find yourself smiling at his tone.
"What's the best part of the story?"
"Guess who the hero is?" Poe says, and his voice is so cocky and amused that you open your eyes and let them find his face again. He's grinning, and he arches a brow, then he makes a fist and pokes his thumb into his own chest. He nods smugly when you realize he's deemed himself the hero.
You can't stop yourself from laughing, even if it hurts, and he tells you all about the shot that took down Starkiller base.
You find out later that you've been unconscious for four days. And that Poe hasn't left your side after finding out Rey left, except for when General Organa requires his assistance.
You decide to make his lost time up to him by bringing him dinner one night. He seems surprised, but pleased, and you're treated to an hour of his stories as you eat.
He's fascinating. He's lived an incredible life, and you feel a little inadequate because your life has been so… rote until now. Sanitation duties in the morning. Weapons and combat training in the afternoon. First Order propaganda films in the evening. And then endless sleepless nights of wondering if you could ever find a way to make it all stop.
That was when you'd found Poe. You'd rescued him, but he had rescued you, too.
You suddenly realize you've been lost in thought, and Poe has gone quiet. You meet his gaze.
"Where'd you go just then?" he asks, and you twist your lips a little.
You push food around you plate for a minute, wondering what to say, then settle on admitting what has been bothering you for the last few days, when you don't have physical therapy and find yourself bored. "I don't really know what to do with myself now."
Your new-found freedom had come at a cost. It was one you would pay gladly to be free of the First Order, but it was a cost, nonetheless. You don't know where you fit anymore.
Poe tilts his head, his eyes going soft, though he's still smiling at you. "I could teach you how to fly," he suggests.
You're not really sure you want to become a pilot, but it seems stupid not to take Poe up on his offer. Poe is the best starfighter pilot there is.
You say yes, you'll let him teach you after you're fully recovered, then let him clean up the dishes. You don't say anything more, and neither does he, but you let yourself admire his body as he stands in the kitchen with his back to you at the sink.
It takes another week for you to be well enough to take your first lesson with Poe, but Poe seems genuinely concerned with your well-being after your confession the night you brought dinner to his room. The following night, he comes to your room with dinner, and you can't ignore the way it feels when he lets his fingers linger too long when he hands you your plate.
The rest of the week, you wind up in each other's rooms each night, when General Organa doesn't need Poe, and the lingering touches continue.
By the time you find yourself in the cockpit of Poe's T-70 X-wing fighter, you find yourself wanting his touch. And you find his smiles make you dizzy. And his eyes dance over you in a way that makes you want to be closer to him.
He leans in the cockpit from the side, and guides your hands to levers and switches, explaining each one, but he seems uncomfortable the way his body is slumped against the side of the ship.
You aren't getting it, either, because you're so focused on Poe's closeness instead of his words.
When Poe stills, you look from his hands on yours to Poe's face. His expression is unreadable. Then he hoists himself up and climbs into the cockpit, which is awkward, because there's really only room for one person.
His hand guides you forward, and then he slides into the seat behind you, straddling you, and your entire body goes hot at the feel of him pressed against you.
You're wedged between Poe and the controls now, and his breath ghosts against the back of your neck. He slides his hands around you and takes your hands, guiding them once more. "This is the eject button," he says, and you shiver at the moist heat of those words on your skin. "Don't press it right now."
"I'm not pressing anything right now," you breathe, wondering when your voice got all hollow like that.
"You could press me," Poe says, and nudges you with his hip.
A jolt of excitement shoots through you, and you turn as much as as you can to look at him. His eyes drop to your lips, and you understand. He leans in, and so do you, letting your eyes flutter shut after his do.
And you can't. Quite. Connect.
You strain against your cramped quarters and feel him do the same, but you can't get your lips to meet.
Finally, Poe starts to laugh, and drops his head to your shoulder. "This isn't as sexy as I was hoping it would be," he admits.
You laugh too. "You should keep trying, though," you say, and relax against him when his arms circle your waist.