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1
Poe's standing still, leaning up against the railing outside. He's smiling slightly, and wearing a gold-coloured watch, which he toys with. Every so often, Poe's hair flops down in front of his eyes. He pushes it back and returns to his appraisal of the watch-face. He sucks softly on his bottom lip.
Finn wonders if he knows he's doing it.
"Get back to the game," Rey yells to him, and chucks the ball straight at his head. Finn catches it one handed, glaring. Rey waves her racket at him. "I exist too, you know. Just because I'm being replaced my Mr McHottie over there doesn't mean I'm invisible."
"His name's Poe," Finn says, before realising precisely how ridiculous he sounds. "And I'm not crushing on him."
"I never said that you were," Rey shoots back, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes simultaneously. In response, Finn brings his arm back and hits the squash ball. It thumps against the bottom of the wall, barely scraping across the demarcation line. Rey has to stretch herself forwards to return, and then they're into it.
It takes Finn a couple of minutes to recognise that Rey's completely played him. By that point, he's stopped caring.
2
"He works at the library," Rey says, sliding into the booth opposite. "If you're interested."
Finn splutters into his coffee. "What? Who?"
"Lover boy," Rey says. "Dreamboat. The one with the floppy hair."
"Poe."
"Whatever. How many times have you spoken, anyway?"
"Enough," Finn says. "And I already knew that. I read."
"Since when?"
Finn flushes furiously. He stares at a point on the far wall, somewhere behind Rey's left shoulder. "Since always."
"Is it just a happy coincidence that we only recently moved to the court beside the library? Oh, no, not only recently - after you bumped into him."
"It was a happy accident," Finn sighs.
"Oh my God," Rey hoots, "you're in love! So he's been stalking you at the court, and you've been stalking him - "
"Nobody's been - "
" - among the stacks. Does he have reading glasses? Do you think they're sexy?" Rey, leering, edges forwards. "Do you wanna - try them on?"
"Shut up," Finn hisses, "shut up, shut up, please shut up - "
"Hey Finn," Poe drawls, voice honey rich. "Who's trying on what?"
Lounging against the edge of the booth, he's grinning easily, lip quirking upwards at the edges. The little laughter creases around his eyes are more noticeable from this angle. His glasses are slipping down his nose.
"Nothing," Finn and Rey say at the same time, Finn scowling and Rey hysterical.
Placing his own cup down on the table, Poe takes the onslaught with good grace. He's charming that way. "Mind if I join you?"
Mutely, Finn shakes his head. Rey's shaking, one hand over her mouth. Apparently, he's hilarious, now. Finn mimes slicing a blade across his throat.
Poe's shirt sleeves are folded up to the elbows. Long lines of freckles trickle out from his inner arm, spiralling upwards towards his wrists. They rise and fall with the curves of his biceps. "Sorry for intruding like this," Poe continues, "only I happened to spot that you were in here, and - "
"No, it's no problem," Finn blurts, "good to see you, I mean."
Poe smiles the smile of men who know they're good looking, and are fully aware of the effect they have, and who keep going anyway because they're sadists. Finn is treated to it now. He wants to curl up underneath the table and die.
"I finally get to meet the famous Poe," Rey's been saying, on the other side of the table. Poe's leg is nudging against Finn's. Finn finds himself suddenly unable to form coherent thoughts, never mind sentences. "I've heard a lot about you."
"All bad things, I hope?" Poe smirks, eyes widening.
"Mostly good," Rey admits, "although I'm holding out hope. I want to keep Finn to myself for as long as I can."
Poe laughs, belly deep. Finn feels his chest explode into thousands of tiny, heated fragments. These fragments all proceed directly into his brain.
"I can see why," Poe says. Before Finn can get any sort of a handle on that, he stands. "I've gotta get back to work, but it's been nice seeing you too. You're a great girl, Rey."
"I do my best," Rey says, cheeks colouring.
Finn feels something drop into the pit of his stomach.
As Poe saunters out, with a generous tip for the waitress and a hair-ruffle for the boys sat in the corner - who, of course, he knows - Finn allows his head to bang against the table.
"I think I might like the guy," Rey announces, after a beat. "Woah."
"Don't start," Finn mutters.
3
"Did you know that he helps out at the animal shelter?"
"Yeah." Hefting his bag over one shoulder, Finn runs the back of one hand across his face. "You need to stop working me so hard. I'm turning into an old man."
"You'll never learn otherwise," Rey says, "and you can't distract me. He's not even a vet, and he still works there."
"In his free time," Finn adds. Holding open the door, he allows Rey to pass through her. As she goes by him, she elbows him in the ribs. "For no pay. Don't forget that part."
"And he leads the local group of Cubs, which he actually used to go to, by the way."
"How did you find out about all this?" Finn says.
Rey shrugs. "The same way you did. I stalked his Facebook page."
"I did not!" Finn yells, before whispering, "And so what if I did?"
"Oh, please. I bet you've been on all of his accounts, and then his family members', and then every ex he's ever had." Unlocking the door to the car, Rey rests her chin in one hand. "Jessika Pava's my favourite former girlfriend. Do you know that she paints?"
"Finn!" Poe hollers.
Finn turns around. Poe's springing towards him across the asphalt, a book held in his hand. His glasses are pushed up into his forehead - he seems like he's in the middle of something.
"Hey," Finn says, when Poe comes to a stop in front of him. "Cool - cool jacket."
Poe smiles modestly, glancing down at himself. "I picked this up at a jumble sale. Pretty neat, right?" Twirling, he demonstrates the way it hugs his chest and back and arms. "It's not really my thing, but I thought, heck, why not? It's for charity."
"Charity," Finn echoes.
Poe nods. "Oh, yeah, that reminds me - I wanted to thank you. Baking those cookies for the kids was a life-saver. Normally I just bring in the supermarket stuff, but yours were delicious."
"I didn't know you baked," Rey says, recalling to Finn her existence.
"You learn something new every day," Finn mumbles, "and, uh, thanks. No, it wasn't a problem."
"Great," Poe says, beaming, "'cause I was wondering - would you let me have the recipe? I'd really like to have a go at making them myself. My sister's always teasing me about how I can't bake. I can make an ace risotto, though."
"Sure," Finn says. "I'll bring it. Where - ?"
"Huh. I don't know." Poe hums, doing that overly distracting thing with his teeth. "How about the coffee shop? I'd invite you over to my place, but it's a bit of a mess right now. I offered to let my friend move in with me, and she's kinda - an artist."
"Ah," Finn says. "Sorry to hear it."
Poe shrugs. "It's fine. She does a good job. It's just - a lot of paint, you know? It doesn't really let you take the weight off your feet when there's music blaring at midnight and then she's asking you to stimulate her muse at two am."
"I'm sure Finn wouldn't mind it if you stopped by his place," Rey says. "Would you, Finn?"
Finn's pretty sure that, if the ground mercifully opened up and swallowed him, it'd have to crush Rey to smithereens to ever make this okay. Linking their arms together, Rey bats her lashes up at him.
"He doesn't have to," Poe says, "I can take care of myself. It's - I'll - thanks for talking, you two. You're - "
Waving his hands, he takes a couple of steps backwards, before disappearing through the library's swing doors. They creak shut behind him. For a couple of seconds, Finn can't tear his eyes away from Poe's retreating back, and from the smile he sends through the glass.
"Your crush is the literal embodiment of human goodness," Rey says.
"I'm going to Hell," Finn tells the roof of the car.
Rey slaps him on the shoulder, with a cheery bellow - "You're never coming out of this alive."
Finn can't help but agree.
4
Poe's already seated, and drinking some kind of latte, when Finn bursts through the doors. Finn has to rest for a while. Poe looks concerned. One of his hands come up to cover Finn's own.
"Sorry," Finn says, "I couldn't find the book, so I had to write it out from memory. And I made some cakes. They're in the car."
Poe's mouth is open. "Ah," he says.
Sitting back, Finn lets his breath out in a huff. Poe's hand curls around the recipe. His fingers trace the places where Finn's pen has smudged.
"Do you wanna come back to my place?" Poe asks slowly, after a beat.
Finn blinks.
.
They end up taking Finn's car, seeing as Poe doesn't actually own one - it's greener, he claims, and then confesses to being skint.
"The last time I had a haircut was January," Poe jokes. "I'm too scared to trim it myself. It worked out badly when I was a kid."
"This one time, my parents shaved all of my hair off without my saying so." Finn shudders. "I had to wear a beanie for weeks."
Poe huffs out a laugh. They traipse up the stairs together. The lift's out of action, apparently, judging from the sign propped up against the door.
"My roommate and I made it," Poe says. "People kept on going in and getting stuck."
Somehow, Finn isn't surprised by this. The tin feels heavy and cold in his hands. He wants to sprint back downstairs and away, because every step he takes brings him closer to Poe's apartment.
This shouldn't be as much of a big deal as it is.
Poe fumbles (endearingly) with his key in the lock, before heading inside. "Jessika's out." Poe dumps his bag down on the table. "She won't be back for a couple of hours."
"Jessika?" Finn says, "As in, Jessika Pava?"
Poe's face lights up. "You've heard of her? Did you buy her work?"
Finn searches his mind, and comes out with a lie - "Yeah. Yeah, I did, this one time."
Poe's nose crinkles. "It's a little - impressionistic, isn't it?"
Finn nods, panicking. "I bought it for a friend. For Rey."
Poe spins to the side. He starts sweeping pamphlets off the sofa. Finn moves to his side to help, admiring the way the muscles bunch together beneath the leather of his jacket. "She's got taste."
Finn holds up a leaflet. There's a picture of an elderly man on the front, smiling wanly. "You nurse?"
"I don't. My sister does. I swing by to see her, sometimes." Poe runs a hand through his hair. It sticks up around his fingers. "I love Bee-Bee. We grew up very close. After our folks separated, we stuck together."
Finn swallows. "Want a drink?" he gets out. "I shouldn't - but - Rey wrestled me into getting some champagne. And, uh, strawberries."
Poe's face shimmers, for a moment, and then shifts into a grin.
5
After he's finished pouring out two glasses, Finn muses on what to do with the strawberries. Should he leave them in the centre of the table? Should he get a bowl? Is he even allowed to touch the bowls? He really should have brought one -
"Poe," Finn says, pushing open the green-painted door into the kitchen, "what should I do with the - "
His tongue goes dry.
Poe's fingers are coated in sugar. There's a pink tint to his face, and to his lips. His hair's ruffled. He looks shocked, and beautiful, and has icing on his chin.
"I tried one of your cakes," he says. "They're good."
"The tray's half-empty," Finn says, staring dumbly. He probably sounds stupid, but he can't stop looking at Poe's hands, coated in sweetness.
Poe's head ducks down. "Yeah. I - I couldn't help myself." Poe swallows, his throat bobbing. "They taste lovely. You've got a real talent."
Finn holds out a glass. Poe takes it, and swirls it around. "Expensive stuff."
"Best I could get," Finn says, because he can't possibly resist the temptation to stick his foot in his mouth.
.
They end up drinking for longer than Finn anticipated. The barest amount is light is trickling through the slats. Somebody's taking out trash downstairs. Somebody else is having a party, the music blaring and shaking the roof. Every so often, plaster dust falls down.
"Why're you my friend, Finn?"
Finn rubs his eyes. "What do you mean? 'Course we're friends. Unless you don't wanna be."
Finn tries to cast his mind back to precisely where he messed everything up. His chest clenches. He can't think around the cold ache there.
"I mean, just - just look at you. You're funny. You're kind. You're fit. Really fit. I can't remember the last time I did any exercise I wasn't physically forced into. You saw me pigging myself on cakes. Come on." Poe's cheeks are tinged pink. He's mumbling the words, staring at his feet. "Not exactly attractive."
"That's not true," Finn tries to say, but Poe ploughs on anyway.
"I even got this thing from a charity shop. It's not exactly the height of fashion. And you - you baked cookies for the kids! You gave me the recipe!" Poe sticks his hands into his pockets. He turns away to look out of the window. "You always look so - so put-together. Ready. Charming. And I'm just - not."
Finn can't find any words.
"I'm not in your league," Poe snorts. "Who was I kidding? I'm not even on the - the same planet! You've got a girlfriend! And you play squash together, and you go and get coffee, and she picks you up from the library. But you know what?"
"What?" Finn says, more out of confusion than anything else.
Pitching forwards, Poe clenches his fingers into Finn's shoulder. The touch seems to burn, and Finn wants to press closer, closer and closer still. He could say it was the beer. He could say it was the evening. He could lie. It'd be easy.
Poe's breath puffs warms against Finn's lips. "I'd do better than her," he says. "I'd hold your hand - not just when somebody else was looking, but all the time, if you'd let me. I'd take you dancing, and - and we'd go to clubs. I can see it. You'd be gorgeous, and somebody else'd try to ask you out, and then you'd say that you were taken."
"Poe," Finn says, and he reaches out to touch him, but Poe draws back with a silent breath.
"I'm sorry," Poe says. He stands, swaying, and walks into the bedroom. The door is pulled shut behind him. It opens again. Poe emerges, holding a pyjama vest and shorts. "I can sleep on the couch."
+1
"I am so sorry," Poe says. "I really - last night - that was uncalled for. You didn't want to know all of that, or - any of that."
It's morning. Finn's sitting on the sofa (where he slept, 'cause he's a gentleman), trying to fight down an oncoming wave of pain with paracetamol and water.
Poe's eyes are intense. He's staring at Finn, and Finn can't so much as glance away. He can feel himself sinking down into the seat.
"I'm sorry," Poe repeats. "Rey's wonderful. She really, truly is. I had no right to say the things I did. If you don't want to see me anymore, I'll understand."
"What?"
Finn seems to have a fondness for the world. He wonders what would happen if he threw himself out of the window. There's a verb for that, he thinks, but can't remember what.
Poe's eyes have squeezed shut. "I want to be with you?" he says, as if it was a question. "Romantically?"
"So you - like me? Think I'm - cute?"
It's official. Finn has regressed back to the first year of high school. He's going to start doodling their names on his notepad, next.
"Yeah." Poe's lip twitches, "Yeah, I do. But you're already in a relationship, and I don't know if you're interested in polyamory, and this was a really dick move. But you wanted to come over, and I - wanted you."
Finn runs his fingers speculatively across the side of Poe's shoulder. Poe tenses, and his eyes flutter shut, and he sags. "Rey and I aren't together."
"Hell you aren't," Poe murmurs. "What's with all the touching, then? And the - smiling?"
"It's called friendship," Finn says, toying with a curl of Poe's hair. "I think you're - "
"You have got to stop looking at me like that," Poe bites. "You're gonna give me a heart attack."
Finn takes both of Poe's hands in his. "I don't give a damn about the Boy Scouts," he says, "I baked those cookies for you."
"That's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me," Poe breathes.
Finn kisses Poe's forehead, and feels Poe relax into his arms; he says, "I can do better."