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After a certain point, Finn stopped counting the days and weeks that had passed since Rey left. It wasn't that he didn't worry anymore (he did, even though he knew she was in good company), and it wasn't that he didn't miss her (he did, every day).
Spending time on the Resistance base had made him realize that he'd be one of the first to know when Rey was coming back. Though at first he had kept asking about her well being, he had soon picked up on the fact that General Organa herself made sure he took part in every bit of news received. Usually, she let Finn join in on the semi-regular calls that Rey made to receive news from the Resistance. This way he both heard, and occasionally saw, Rey often enough to be reassured that she was well.
When speaking to Rey, even over a call, she was bubbling with discovery that she couldn't wait to share with Finn, who loved to listen to her when she started off explaining a new discovery about the Force or the planet on which she now resided. All of the sudden she was not only experiencing something new every day, but she was also a history book of old stories and traditions, some of them strange and others downright magical. In the background of these calls was Chewie (who Rey insisted was warming up to Finn) and the always present but never seen Luke Skywalker.
If Finn had to be frank, Luke didn't exactly seem more real from this distance than he did when he was just a legend. Either way, Rey seemed happy and safe, which was all that mattered. On top of that, Finn gathered she could take care of herself even better than when they had parted, which was saying something. She also missed him too, and somehow that in itself was reassuring. To not be alone with that feeling.
Finn thought, as he looked back on the weeks he had spent in the medbay and then in physical therapy, that perhaps he had stopped counting days when they started to feel lighter. When every one didn't come with another task and a schedule of baby steps toward far away goals. Maybe, he also had stopped counting because of Poe Dameron, who was in every way associated with those much lighter days.
The best pilot in the Resistance had sat by his bedside for as many hours as he could get away with. Keeping Finn company by telling stories of his childhood on Yavin IV, his previous battles and flights. Sometimes they played cards, and others they just sat in quiet together.
Once Finn had recovered enough, Poe had insisted on coming along to Finn's physical therapy. Grateful and overwhelmed, Finn told him that it really wasn't necessary, arguing that Poe after all had a job to do. Poe had been charmingly humble, but didn't budge on the matter.
Having Poe accompanying him in physical therapy had it's ups and downs. Sometimes Finn was still struck with the feeling that he wasn't strong enough for any of it, that he wouldn't be useful in any way in the end, and he certainly wasn't brave. Those days had been terrible, and he'd shrugged the medbots, nurses, and Poe himself off, in ways more hurtful than necessary. Afterwards, he always felt incredibly guilty. Still, Poe had always shown up at his bedside again the next day, face open and bright and still convinced that if anyone could get back on track after a lightsaber wound, it was Finn.
In the end, there had been more days that Finn had agreed with Poe's genuine belief that he could do this, than there had been not. And in the end, Finn had stopped counting the days that had passed since he was wounded and since he woke up and since Rey left.
At first Poe had been the only one that Finn really knew around the base. As it turned out, Poe also happened to be an ideal starting point to get to know more of them. Poe seemed to know, and was seemingly liked by, almost everyone, from astromech droids to colonels and cleaners. Everyone they met on the base or sat with in the mess hall seemed to know Poe from something or other. A mission, a favour, some heroic deed or just sharing the same toolbox while fixing an engine once. It was daunting to Finn at first, being thrown into a place where he didn’t quite feel like he fit in. In the First Order you were molded, shaped into this team of similarly-acting similarly-looking people. You knew what to do if you didn't fit in, because how to behave correctly was actually in some guideline somewhere.
It was different with the Resistance, but Finn didn't dislike it. It was just a new way, and it required that he did a lot of thinking before he acted. That was alright, he always did find his own head quite good company.
On the base, Finn didn't get to know people by asking about their jobs or status in the Resistance, didn't want to ask about gossip or the latest update from one of the smaller asteroid-belt-bases. No, Finn asked about their home planets, the places they had seen and the experiences they had of the universe. Sometimes, he would ask about their families or their loved ones.
The people he talked to got a nostalgic sparkle in their eye, a dreamy expression and a softer tone when they spoke of these places that meant something to them. Occasionally, the memories were tarnished with fear and sorrow, and Finn would reach out a hand to hold theirs or offer them a cloth to wipe their tears. But even when the planet in question had been destroyed, or their family was no longer, there was still that connection with them. The love that had made them talk about that place in particular to begin with.
For Finn, this had become his favourite form of space travel.
When he came back to his room in the evenings, he sometimes sat down and drew these places he had only heard of. He'd make careful sketches of these grand buildings, deep forests and skies with five low-hanging moons, in a book bound with soft leather.
He had first discovered his liking for drawing in the days of the medbay, where he had sometimes been too exhausted to talk or write. Starting one evening when Poe looked a little weary after a long workday, Finn had wanted to cheer him up with a fun and mildly embarrassing story from the day (he had accidentally messed up his try at being polite and speak the day-nurse's native language). Too exhausted to account for the full events in all their glory, Finn had picked up a pen and slip of paper from his nightstand and sketched a little row of pictures depicting the event. Poe had looked at him curiously at first, but upon reading it had let out a laugh that seemed to soften his entire tired appearance even after it had stopped.
“You're good at this, buddy,” Poe said, and even if Finn had only shrugged and given a half-smile in return, Poe made sure from that point that there was always pen and paper for Finn to use when he felt the need.
When Finn was released from the medbay, Poe had traded for a sketchbook at the D'Qar market. Finn had been eyeing the cream leather book in one of the stands, and Poe quickly realized that Finn himself had nothing to trade with. Finn kept telling him he'd pay him back, but Poe had only shook his head. It's a gift, keep it.
“You can't keep giving me stuff like this,” Finn had protested quietly, later in the evening when he was sitting cross-legged on the floor in Poe's room.
“Just watch me,” the pilot had said, looking at Finn with a fond smile. Sensing that Finn wasn't in a bantering mood, he shook his head after a short pause. “I want to,” he said. “Is that okay?”
“I've just never...” Finn picked up the book that he had been running his thumb over for a good half-hour. He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say, and fell quiet with a sigh.
“That's fine,” Poe said, as if he heard the variations of Finn's line of thought in the silence. “In the future, I'll simply accidentally drop stuff in your room and then pretend I've never seen it before when you ask me about it,” he said, face serious until he met Finn's eyes, when Finn at last crumbled and gave in to a huge grin.
Finn's room was at another end of the base from Poe's. The pilot had tried to break a deal to find Finn a room closer to the Starfighter squadrons since Finn technically doesn't belong with any squadron at all yet. But even Poe's charming smile couldn't help the fact that there hadn’t been any available rooms in the area at the time.
During Finn's physical recovery, he and Poe had spent the hours they walked back and forth in the corridors of the base to work out the exact middle point between their rooms. It had soon become the spot for most of their meetings, be it before breakfast in the mornings or heading for a run in the afternoon. This was also the place for exchanged goodnights some evenings, after a whole bunch of the Resistance soldiers and workers had gotten together. They usually hung out in the mess hall or around a fire someone arranged outside. There was drinking and joking and singing. They'd play games and hold some kind of fighting tournaments with their holopads. Finn had no idea how to even begin grasping the rules of some of these games, and spent much of these nights asking questions and watching a game play out over a particularly good player's shoulder.
The evenings when there wasn't a party going on, Finn and Poe spent their free time together, taking turns with whose quarters to occupy.
When they were at Finn's, Poe would lie on top of the bed or lounge in the chair and read a book out loud, or tell stories while Finn drew. Sometimes Finn showed Poe his sketches, and other times he'd close his book as soon as he had finished. The latter case more often than not being around a drawing of Poe himself. Poe clearly enjoyed Finn's drawings, commenting on the details and likeness of the places he had been, but he never pressed Finn for anything. One day, Finn thought, he'd be completely happy with a portrait of Poe. Then he'd show it to him.
In Poe's room they played holo-chess or cards and drank liquor from the flask hidden behind the books in Poe's small bookshelf. In Poe's room there was also BB-8, and Finn had quickly begun the trials of learning to speak Binary, Only in part because he wanted to know what the little droid was saying when it beeped excitedly and made Poe smile in a certain way, shushing it fondly.
It was almost always late, and they were both tired when either of them actually managed to leave. Finn had a tendency to fall asleep in one place or the other and then pretending he'd heard every word of the conversation that had went on while he did.
“Stay, then,” Poe said with a laugh, one night when Finn let out a particularly long groan over having to walk all the way back to his room. “There's an extra mattress in the closet.”
Finn wondered how it all came so easy to Poe. How things like that never got caught in his chest, the way he felt like his own ideas did. Second guessing didn't seem to be in Poe's nature, or if it was, he was very good at keeping it to himself.
“Would that be okay?” Finn asked, rubbing his eyes a little as he straightened up, watching as Poe got up from where he sat on the edge of his bed and opened the aforementioned closet, dragging the mattress out onto the floor and piling some sheets on top of it.
“I think there's a few shirts in the top drawer for you to sleep in if you want to,” he said with an ease that was better than any confirmations Finn could have asked for. “I'm going to get ready.” He grabbed his pajamas from the foot end of his bed and headed to the bathroom.
Finn hesitated for a few moments, only moving when BB-8 beeped what was now a familiarly chiding 'Finn' to him.
“I thought you were in sleep mode by now,” he told the droid as he stood up. BB-8 didn't even bother with blinking and only beeped something very vague and hard to translate in reply.
“Fine.” Finn said, opening the drawer and examining its contents. He settled for a thin, greyish-green shirt. Folding and unfolding it in his hands, Finn sat down to make his bed before he undressed down to his boxers, folding his clothes on a nearby chair. He put on Poe's shirt just before lying down, pulling the blanket over him.
It wasn't that he felt weird sharing a room with Poe. Stars , he'd even fallen asleep on Poe's shoulder at one point, so he had no problems with the proximity either. It was just that he didn't sleep well. That he sometimes woke up from nightmares so terrifying he had to get up entirely, get dressed and take a walk around the base to calm himself. And although Poe had seen him in on his worst days of the medbay, he wasn't sure he wanted his friend to have to see this too.
When Poe exited the bathroom he was wearing a loose fitted t-shirt and trousers that looked almost silky in the dim light. Finn crossed and uncrossed his arms on top of the blanket before sitting up, meeting Poe's eye as he inhaled slowly.
“You okay?” Poe asked, a slight line of worry between his brows.
“I...” Finn trailed off, sighed, and then started anew. “I have nightmares,” he said.
Poe's expression softened and he walked over to his bunk, sitting down on it, his eyes still fixed on Finn's. “Me too,” he said with a shrug.
At first, Finn had the impulse to explain further, but the longer he looked at Poe the more he was struck by that it wasn't that the pilot didn't understand. And then it hit him. He'd seen the way Poe looked when he rescued him from that chair.
Finn looked down at his hands and felt a pang of something... possibly guilt, for having forgotten even for a moment that he wasn't the only one with scars.
“I'm sorry,” he apologized, again searching for Poe's gaze, this time only finding reassurance in the half-darkness that shadowed his friend's brown eyes.
“It's okay,” Poe said softly, drawing his feet up onto the bed, resting his chin on his knees. “I feel like I'm in pretty good company.”
The next morning Finn wasn't sure if it was the knowledge of Poe's own bad dreams that had made him relax, but he hadn't slept that well in weeks. This continued to be a pattern over the following weeks when Finn would occasionally stay over with Poe. Although the dreams didn't haunt him every night, it was still harder for him to fall asleep in his own room.
He didn't tell Poe about it. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he couldn't let it become a habit, or he might not be able to sleep at all without the sound of Poe's steady breathing.
Sometimes Poe had to fly out, or he was occupied by the General in the evenings,but Finn didn't mind so much when it was only rarely. Usually the pilots were only away during the day, and with The First Order having seemingly disappeared off the map (there had been big search parties after the Battle of Starkiller Base), very few of them had to be gone for longer.
Usually Poe showed up to hang out with Finn for an hour or so before bedtime anyway, so Finn had little to complain about.
This didn't change until one afternoon when Poe was called away to a meeting at Command. Finn went about his own routine for these kind of evenings, taking a walk outside before settling down in his room with a school-book on languages of the galaxy. He had found it in one of the storage rooms while helping some janitors clean it out a few days earlier. Even if he didn't belong to a squadron, he liked to make himself useful where he could. Sometimes it rewarded him doubly, like the finding of the book. Perhaps then he could stop making a mess of himself in front of the day-nurse (he still hadn't quite been able to make up to after the entire ordeal in the medbay months earlier).
When Finn looked up from his reading, the projected clock from his datapad telling him the hour, he felt slightly uneasy. There still was no sight of Poe, and it was getting really late. Had the pilot forgotten him? or simply been too tired after the meeting to come by and say hello? Though these things sounded natural, it still felt out of place to Finn. To be on the safe side, he read a couple more chapters of his book, but he had a hard time focusing and there was still no Poe.
Reluctantly, Finn readied himself for bed.
He had a hard time falling asleep that night, tossing and turning in his sheets. In fact, he wasn't even sure he had managed to sleep at all when there was a sharp knock on his door. What he knew was that the knock made him feel slightly disoriented, and then scared.
Rey, he thought, almost instantly, shortly followed by The First Order and Poe. His heart pounded in his chest as he shuffled out of bed, turned on the lights and hurried over to the door.
It was Poe, alright, which could still mean any number of the things . There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was in a state of dishevelment nowhere near how Finn had ever seen it before. Poe clearly hadn't slept yet, meaning the meeting must have gone very, very late. There was no way of knowing if that meant good or bad news given the routines on the base, only that it must have been important.
“Finn.” There was such urgency in Poe's voice that Finn barely recognized it at first.
“What's going on?” he asked, instinctively reaching out to place his hand on the pilot's arm, urging him inside the room. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine. I am, I just wanted to tell you before someone else did.” Poe said.
Taking in the entire appearance of his friend up close, Finn noted that Poe not only sounded a little out of breath, but his cheeks were rosy too. He must have run at least part of the way to Finn's room. In the middle of the night. His mind filled with the myriad of possible things that could be wrong, he grasped Poe's other arm as well, even though the man had just insisted that he was fine.
“Tell me what?” Finn asked, eyes fixed on Poe's.
“The General has gotten word that our allies in the Colonies are under threat of invasion. They're a vital trade post for us and I... I have to ship out.” He seemed to try to present this calmly, but the words wavered.
“When?” Finn felt a growing need to sit down, but also wasn't ready to let go of Poe.
Poe didn't look him straight in the eye as he replied. “In the morning. As soon as the ships are all ready.”
“Is it dangerous?” Finn asked. Aware that he should probably worry more about the status of their allies and even more urgently who it was that was attacking them.
There was a hint of a smile on Poe's lips, but only for a brief second. Maybe he had attempted to say something quipping, but what came out was only a soft breath of confirmation.
“Yeah,” he whispered, and Finn was vaguely aware that he was squeezing Poe's arms harder by the second.
“Can I come with you?” he asked and Poe's face contorted into something both fond and pained. He was biting his lip as he did this, a habit of his that Finn had begun to think meant Poe was considering his possible answers.
“Starfighters only in this first wave at least,” Poe said. “We're of more use in the air than on the ground by the looks of it.”
“And I'm untrained with the Resistance and I don't have a squadron,” Finn said, and it didn't come out as bitter as he intended, more weary.
“And there's that,” Poe admitted, before abruptly wrapping both his arms around Finn and pulling him into an embrace. Surprised, Finn froze for a second. Then the pilot buried his head against Finn's shoulder, breathing evenly, and Finn relaxed as well, moving his grip from Poe's arms and hugging the other man back.
“I'll miss beating your ass at cards,” Finn said after a moment, relieved to hear Poe laugh, the pilot's warm breath heating Finn's chest through his shirt.
“I'll probably start intentionally losing against Jess to make up for it,” came the muffled reply after a moment.
“You're going to give her ideas, and then I'll have to crush them when you come back,” Finn said, moving back a little when the other man straightened up. Poe didn't look at him now, eyelashes casting shadows over his skin.
Finn's instincts told him to say something reassuring, but he wasn't sure what could currently be the worst thing going through Poe's mind. The thing that he wanted to fix first, if he could.
Times like these made him wish had Jedi mind powers like Rey's. Since he didn't, he would have to opt for the second best. Waiting Poe out.
In the meantime he did what he knew usually kept himself calm, sliding one of his hands down Poe's left arm and intertwining their fingers. Poe watched their hands for a long while before he finally looked up.
“Finn, I...” he started, closing his eyes as if reconsidering, before he continued. “I'm not here just because I wanted to be the one to tell you the news, okay?”
Finn frowned, his insides feeling like they were curling around each other all of the sudden, tightening into a knot just beneath his breastbone.
“Okay,” he said, trying to act like he wasn't suddenly terrified again.
“I'm here because there are so many things I’ve been thinking lately that I haven't told you about. And that feels selfish now, standing here. But I didn't want to leave without having said at least some of them.” Slowly, Poe lifted his free hand to rest against the side of Finn's neck, his fingertips brushing a spot just below Finn's ear.
Their eyes met, and Finn's mind buzzed with a sudden rush of thoughts and images. The jacket, Poe's lip-biting habit, the friendly pats on the shoulder from the Starfighter squadrons, changes in Poe's tone of voice... There was also something in the way Finn's drawn lines had changed from bold and proud to thin and detailed when he replicated Poe's expressions on paper. Transforming along with the need to catch every little detail of it until it felt perfect to him.
“I know,” Finn said on an exhale, a little overwhelmed and hoping this would mute his head.
“Hush,” Poe said, voice catching on an almost-sob that made Finn grab a fistful of Poe's shirt in his hand. “I came here to say it, so let me,” he continued, his voice low. “I might have fallen pretty badly for you. The dramatic crashing into a planet- kind.”
Had Finn been able to breathe he would have interrupted Poe with something, anything there because those words alone filled him to the brim.
But Poe kept on talking, his gaze flickering nervously. “And I know you haven't... done anything like this before, and that's okay. I just, feel like I have to let some of it out. Even if it's just like this.”
Just like this. Finn's mind echoed, blinking slowly, trying to find focus somewhere. His head still a little too loud to line up the fragments he was gathering to form a full picture.
“I want you to know that I care about you, before I go tomorrow. And I want you to make of this what you wish, okay? In your own time. I wish there was a way to say this that didn't feel like I was throwing too much on you at once and I...”
“Shh,” Finn managed at last, interrupting Poe, feeling the soft smile spread over his lips. “You're worse than BB-8. You know, when they grow tired of having to speak as slow as possible when I try to learn Binary,” he said fondly, smile widening as Poe scoffed in reply.
In his head, Finn tried to sort out what he felt was most important to say. In this, he found himself being blocked by the strong need to say: Don't do this because you're leaving , but the ache that brought him made him feel like he was choking on the words.
“I wish you'd told me earlier,” he whispered instead after much consideration.
Poe rubbed his thumb very carefully along the line of Finn's jaw.
”I'm going to see you again,” he said quietly. So quiet that Finn wouldn't have heard him had they not been standing as close as they were. “I'm counting on it.”
“Poe,” Finn said, dipping his head so that he didn't meet the other man's eyes anymore. The bridge of his nose just a sliver away from resting against Poe's cheek.
”Hey,” Poe nudged at his chin with his thumb. ”Look at me, Finn,” he begged, and Finn glanced very briefly up. Poe was biting his lip again.
”You don't have to do anything. We don't have to do anything, okay? You certainly don't owe me, and there's no right or wrong way out of this,” Poe said, and both the words and the unnerved expression on his face seemed to try and tug all of Finn's insides out at once.
“Poe Dameron,” Finn said, tilting his head up properly, lifting his hand to the other man's face, breath catching as he watched Poe lean ever so slightly into the touch. ”You can't possibly be thinking that I wouldn't want you, best damn pilot in the galaxy?”
“Finn.” A soft whisper growing more insistent. Poe's expression softening, biting his damn lip in that endearing manner. ”Finn, Finn, Finn,” Poe repeated, as if it meant something new to him every time.
In that moment, Finn thought that, so far, he had discovered nothing else in this universe that made him feel the way his name did when it came from Poe Dameron's mouth.
“I really want to kiss you right now. Is that alright?” Poe asked.
I'm gonna call you Finn. Is that alright?
Finn nodded. “I'd like that. A lot.”
Poe kissed with a care that was unlike how Finn had seen people kiss before, mostly around the base. It's gentleness matched the way Finn felt like when he was walking on uncharted ground. He reciprocated slowly, but not without curiosity, angling his head to keep their noses from bumping together, moving his hand to rest around the back of Poe's neck. Closing his eyes at hot breaths mingling, the way it felt ghosting over his wet lips. Finn opened his mouth, trying out what it felt like to grasp at Poe's lower lip with his own.
“Finn.” Poe said softly, and Finn only smiled before he did it over again.
The small growl that escaped the other man sent a surge down Finn's stomach. It settled into a dizzy burning as he was pulled closer, Poe deepening the kiss with more urgency than before. Finn responded enthusiastically, not wanting the other man to stop for second thoughts. Wrapping his free arm around Poe's neck he pressed himself up against his chest, parting his lips further, replicating anything and everything he felt Poe do to him as soon as he got the chance. A certain angle of the head, an affectionate brush of noses, a playful dart of a tongue over a lower lip. And although with Finn it may have been on the sloppier side, he didn't hear anything even remotely close to complaints from Poe.
Soon he had dug his fingers deep into Poe's hair, and Poe was panting against his skin. His arms wrapped tightly around Finn's waist as he trailed open mouthed kisses over Finn's jaw line, buried licks in the hollows and indentations of his neck. Finn let his head fall back and his eyes shut. He didn't even know what it was exactly that Poe's damn mouth was doing, because it made him feel everything all over. Poe's every touch seemed to cause trembles down to Finn's toes and goosebumps all over his arms.
Finn wondered if it were possible for his body to surrender under Poe's lips, if it could just give in fully and collapse into a million tiny grains of sand that would pool down over the floor. And then, with a curiosity that only grew in his head the more he thought of it, he wondered if he could make Poe want to fall apart that way too.
Tipping his head back up, Finn tangled his fingers securely into Poe's hair, pulling him up for another kiss. There was the slightest hesitance in Finn's movements before he moved his right leg, hooking it around Poe's and bringing them even closer together as he let his own back fall against the wall next to the door.
The sound of surprise Poe made as Finn bent his neck and pressed his lips to his Adam's apple was enough to make Finn breathe easier again. Leaving a row of light kisses and soft bites along Poe's neck. Nudging his nose into the hollow above his left collarbone, Finn sucked at a particularly soft spot of skin and Poe moaned. The helplessness of it making Finn shiver.
This was absolutely what he wanted. Everything else had been reduced to a blur. There was little room for the outside world and even less for worrying about not being good enough when Poe was seemingly clinging onto him for dear life, and that he let out a noise that alone made Finn see stars when Finn dragged his teeth over the skin on Poe's neck.
Only when Poe's hands shifted, moving to grasp at the front of Finn's shirt, did either of them speak. With both of them panting for breath, Poe rested his forehead against' Finn's as he looked up at him.
“Are you alright?” Poe asked, his voice raspy and hoarse, lifting a hand to caress Finn's temple. Up close, Finn saw that the other man's hand was trembling, ever so slightly, and he nuzzled against it in response to the touch.
“Never better.” He smiled, closing his eyes. “Tomorrow morning then?”
“Yes,” Poe sighed, running his hand over Finn's hair.
Finn rested his head in the crook of Poe's neck and mumbled a very soft “Stay, then,” against his skin.
Poe didn't reply, but Finn could feel him smiling against the top of his head.
They woke up early the next morning.
Poe had insisted they set an alarm, since he didn't think they'd direct a message to him to Finn's room. Finn had his doubts about just how true that was, but he went along with it anyway. Personally, he was more worried that they wouldn't wake up anywhere near morning otherwise, having indulged in one or five more long, lazy kisses before they actually fell asleep.
When the alarm rang , Finn had to reconsider all of his choices at once. Separating himself from Poe when the pilot lay curled up along his side, head resting against Finn's chest and his arm draped around Finn's waist, would had been terrible even if there hadn't been an alarm blaring in the background.
Poe's hair was an absolute mess, and Finn had a hard time keeping his hands out of it, something that didn't exactly aid in the tries the other man made to get dressed beyond the boxers and tank top he had slept in. This, along with the incident that occurred when Finn intended to change his shirt, had resulted in the pair making their way to Poe's own room with Poe's hair being what was possibly a bigger mess, and Finn having just slung his jacket over yesterday's t-shirt and a pair of sweats.
BB-8 beeped, loud and frantic, the second Poe opened the door.
“Was that very rude or just...” Finn trailed off, his cheeks heating, even more so when his blushing made Poe laugh throatily and put a hand around his waist, pulling him in for a kiss.
BB-8 beeped again, this time too fast for Finn to keep up with.
“It's mostly just congratulations,” the pilot reassured him, and Finn narrowed his eyes skeptically. He ended up unable to voice his concerns since Poe just pressed his lips to Finn's over and over.
“Thought you were packing,” Finn mumbled into the kiss.
“I'm sure there's time,” Poe said, and Finn could swear he had never heard the man express such optimism over time before.
Through what had to be a small miracle, and to be fair, BB-8s insistent whirring and beeping, Poe was packed and dressed in his orange flight suit at the time of the call from Command.
“Can I see you off?” Finn asked, and Poe grinned widely.
“Grab my helmet, will you?” he asked, picking up his trunk and slinging it over one shoulder, while Finn reached for the helmet on a shelf next to the door.
“Ready BB-8?” Poe asked the droid who made a confirming sound and rolled ahead of them out of the room. Just outside, Poe stopped, letting the door close behind them. He was avoiding Finn's questioning gaze, instead glancing down at the ground.
“Would you like...” He laughed, short and low-pitched before digging in his flight suit pocket and pulling out his room keycard. “Here. If you need anything,” he said.
Finn held onto his hand as he took the card, hoping that his expression said what he couldn't find the proper words for.
Outside by the ships, everything and everyone was bustling with movement. The entire place hadn't been this busy since they left for Starkiller Base. This was a big deal, and Poe was going to lead it. Finn took Poe's hand in his own and squeezed it.
It was an odd place for goodbye's. Which by all accounts didn't make sense when it might be the one place on the base that saw the most of them. But to Finn, it felt too open and vulnerable to be private, even when over the whirr of Starfighter motors, people chattering and blasters being prepped, there was no way anyone could hear much of any conversation being held.
Poe had finished his visual check and was about to let BB-8 start doing his job on the rest. Finn, who had stood off to the side of the X-wing in the meantime, still holding onto Poe's helmet, walked up to the pair before the droid moved into position under the ship.
“Hang on,” he told Poe, crouching down in front of BB-8, the way he'd seen Poe do so many times while listening to the droid. Frowning in concentration, Finn then beeped what he hoped was a “Goodbye, friend. Safe travels.” He grinned widely up at Poe when the little droid whooped a cheerful reply at this accomplishment.
“Stop that, you're killing me,” Poe groaned, his face beaming. Finn ran a hand over the top of BB-8 before he stood up next to Poe again, letting the droid whirr away to its pickup spot.
“I sure hope it takes a lot more than that to kill the best pilot in the galaxy,” Finn said, tugging at the end of Poe's sleeve when the other man glanced up at the sky and bit his lip.
“Finn, if while I'm gone you want to...” Poe started.
“Do not finish that sentence Poe Dameron,” Finn interrupted , taking a step closer and wrapping his arms around Poe's neck. “I'm yours,” he whispered against Poe's skin.
Poe wrapped his arms tightly around Finn's back, hugging him back, his lips brushing Finn's cheekbone as he turned his head. “Then that's settled,” he said, and Finn could hear him smiling rather than see it.
“Now go out there and be the best, okay?” Finn ordered as he pulled back from the embrace.
“Yes, sir,” Poe nodded. The intercom on his ship buzzing to life. “Duty calls.” He sighed, and Finn handed over the helmet. But when Poe started to put it on, Finn reached out a hand and stopped him.
“Hang on, I just realized something,” he said, making Poe raise an eyebrow at him. Finn grinned playfully at him before dropping his voice to a whisper. “I don't care if they all know.”
He was laughing as he pressed his lips to Poe's, even more at the surprised but no doubt pleased noise the pilot made. The laugh getting stuck in his throat when Poe in turn grabbed him by the front of his jacket, Poe's old jacket , and spun them both around. He kissed Finn breathless, pressing his back up against the side of the X-wing. Right then, Finn's head was too busy singing to hear the wolf-whistles and calls from a few of the other pilots and workers
“Now who's trying to kill who?” Finn mumbled against Poe's lips. Glad that the raspy laugh that followed still rang in his ears when he stood to the side, arm raised in a wave, as the pilots flew off, their ships soon merely dots against the grey morning sky.
When Finn was going to bed that night, he hesitated for a few seconds at the crossroads of corridors where he and Poe usually met and parted. He palmed the key card in his pocket, at last deciding to carry on straight ahead to the pilot's quarters.
He had expected Poe's room to feel much emptier without him, but as he entered it, the door shutting with a sigh behind him, he found nothing but hints at Poe being back any minute now. As if he'd just stepped into the bathroom before Finn arrived. Of course, that wouldn't last too long, he knew. But then and there, it was just what he needed. This first night would be the hardest.
He had purposefully taken on a lot of tasks that day, and after dinner he had stayed behind late to play cards with a few ground soldiers he knew.
He brushed his teeth and got undressed, hesitating only for a moment before picking up Poe's discarded sleep-shirt and pulling it over his head. For a few seconds he had to stand still and close his eyes, Poe's familiar scent making it hard for a moment to believe he wasn't actually there.
Stretching his arms a little, Finn sat down on the bed and scooted into the alcove. As he reached to turn out the lights, he noticed there was a page from notebook stuck to the wall, a drawing of Yavin IV, Poe's home planet. Finn remembered Poe’s smile, the way his eyes had glittered. He also remembered how his own gaze had dropped to Poe's mouth as the other man bit his lower lip. On the verge of saying or doing something which he kept to himself.
Replaying that in his head, Finn realized with a surge in his stomach that he knew that look; Poe had wanted to kiss him back then already.
Finn wrote letters for Poe while he was gone. Usually by hand in his notebook. Occasionally, he'd type them on his datapad as well, but he liked the way he could fit them around little sketches. Usually he drew scenery from stories told by the others at the armory, where he had finally felt secure enough to station himself. Finn didn't always send these letters, but when he did they were long and detailed, usually composed by mashing several of the handwritten ones together.
Poe replied to every one. Sometimes he was too busy for a long reply and the answer was just a few sentences, other times they had a lot of downtime at the base and Finn would receive a letter back which was at least as long as his own had been. And Poe, perhaps because he knew Finn well, perhaps because he cared for him like he did, wrote the most beautiful letters. It was of course possible too, that Poe always wrote like that, but for some reason Finn doubted it. These letters seemed to have the same longing, the same underlying mantra as he found unavoidable in his own.
Poe wrote about how the stars looked from where he was at that very moment, and how the dirt on the ground felt if you ran it between your fingers. It was the most detailed out of every one of the stories Finn had collected over the months, and he drew this moonbase in the Colonies nearly as often as he wished that he was there. Right next to Poe, gazing at the sky.
About two weeks after the Starfighters had left the Resistance base, Finn had spoken to Rey once she had finished her check-in with the superiors for reports.
Finn had brought his dinner along and ate it while sitting cross-legged in front of the hologram of Rey. They talked mostly like they used to, about the strange things that the Jedi apparently were up to during training (carrying your master around on your back, what was that about anyway?). She also asked questions about Poe, with a wide smile and crinkles around her eyes while Finn blushed. They also talked about Finn's work and the things he learned. It wasn't as cool as what Rey was doing, but she always seemed interested to hear whatever he was saying. Finn liked that about Rey, the way she seemed to absorb new knowledge like an especially adorable sponge.
“Do you ever miss it?” Finn asked her when he had finished his food. There was something that had been nagging at the edge of his mind for a while now.
“Miss what?” she asked, and Finn realized that this was after all a pretty long jump in conversation.
Finn shrugged. “Jakku.”
“That junkyard?” Rey teased, making Finn laugh shortly before he became serious again.
“You lived there after all.” He paused. “In a way it was home.”
At first, Rey was silent. But it wasn't the strange kind of silence like people at the base sometimes did when they were reminded of Finn's past as a Stormtrooper. No, this was a contemplative silence, one he shared with Rey regularly enough to know it meant that she understood what he was getting at, what he was thinking even though he hadn't exactly said so. Finn wasn't sure if the Force worked at such a long distance, over a hologram nonetheless, but they shared something in those moments of silence that was more than just familiarity with each other.
At last, Rey had leaned her head slightly to one side and smiled knowingly, gazing off somewhere to her right. ”You know, I thought for a long time that home had to be somewhere where you were settled down, with your family.” She paused and rubbed her hand over the bridge of her nose, scrunching it up before she relaxed. ”But I think home is just where you feel you belong,” she said.
Finn wasn't quite sure he had found a home yet. But then he supposed that was one of those things he would have to give time. He felt even more comfortable around the base since he had started working at the armory. People knew him for his personality, knew him from his collecting of stories as well from working with him. He wasn't just Finn from whispered rumours about his background or his heroic actions or how he was wounded by Kylo Ren.
Nearly a month had passed since the Starfighters departure according to the Galactic Standard Calendar that hung on the wall of Poe's room.
The room had stopped smelling comfortably like Poe after a few weeks, but Finn kept his quarters there anyway, only going back to his own to collect or drop off any items he didn't regularly need. He tried to keep busy, and found that this, possibly along with sleeping in Poe's room, made his sleep a little easier.
In the armory, Finn had found that he liked the figuring out and tweaking of faulty blasters the most, and could stay stationed at the same peculiar one for an entire workday if he had to. At first he had thought the fixing to be best done quickly, but soon he had realized how much room for improvement there was to these weapons, and how much he could actually learn about their flaws by fixing them.
Himangi, the Armory Commander, had helped out in their own way, taking notice of Finn talking about weapons during lunch one day. Having found that the other lieutenants and workers were interested in both their usage in The First Order as well as the technicals of them, Finn was happy to share any of his old training that could come to use. The Commander had offered Finn to teach the others, not just armory personnel, in a more organized setting. And Finn had begun doing just that, on top of his normal duties.
“Finn.” The General had a nearly unmistakable way of saying his name. He turned around, setting down the blaster he was currently mending and resting both his hands behind his back.
“Ma'am?”
“I told Dameron to report in at 1600 GST,” she said, and Finn frowned. Usually he got the news after the report had already been made.
“Yes?” Finn raised his brow, keeping his answer short so she wouldn't hear the hope in it. But his heart beat with his wishes, the way it always did when there were news from the Starfighter Squadrons in the Colonies. Tell me they're safe, Tell me he's coming back soon.
“I'll keep him on the line for you, if you want to speak with him,” General Organa said, her voice warm and informal.
Finn couldn't help it, his face falling, heart skipping and his jacket suddenly making it feel too warm in the hangar. “Really?” he asked her.
”I can't very well keep passing news and messages between you like a courier droid,” she said, hinting at the slightest of smiles.
“Thank you ma'am.” Finn nodded, his tone matching her smile. A formal exchange on the surface, but they both knew they meant so much more underneath it.
“I'll see you at command, then.” General Organa said, and Finn had to fight the impulse to actually salute her as she left the armory.
Not until that afternoon did Finn realize that he didn't know if he was supposed to arrive before or after the call. The General had only given him the call in time , so he made sure to get to the Command Center a few minutes before 16 sharp. But once he entered the room from the stairs, he was only waved inside by the General and one of her Captains.
Not wanting to bother anyone, Finn opted to hang around by one of the room's walls. He clasped his hands behind his back simply because he wasn't quite sure what to do with them, or with himself in the situation. It wasn't that he hadn't sat in on a call or a report before, it was just the first he had been there for where he wasn't sure of his place.
When the call rang and the General answered it with her curt “Commander Dameron, good evening” Finn couldn't deny the way his heart was racing.
“Good evening General,” Poe said, his voice slightly cracked from static.
Finn was instantly glad that he wasn't expected to say anything during the formal part of the call. There had been no way for him to prepare for how hearing that voice again after all these weeks would make him physically feel. It was as if very exhale emptied him completely, while every inhale filled him to the bursting point. Quickly, he realized that he would have to sit down, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it to him. Closing his eyes to try and focus on what Poe was actually saying too, not just the way it made his stomach feel fuzzy and his head light.
In the middle of this, he also had to wonder if he would have to speak to Poe so that everyone else in the room would hear. Not that it really mattered of course, he was used to doing that with Rey. It just felt different this time, when the setting felt so formal and official, although all he knew he wanted to say to Poe was nothing of the sort.
”Thank you, Commander.” The General said, marking what was the end of the call. Finn was pretty certain that she was smiling when she said “Finn's here,” but her head was turned away, so there was no way to be entirely sure.
”Thank you, General,” Poe said, and the way he said it, breathy and grateful, made Finn's chest ache.
General Organa waved Finn over from where he was sitting and handed him a headset.
”I'll give you two a couple of minutes,” she said, and Finn couldn't grasp how she just knew ... if the Force worked that way, or if she was just coming from experience.
Finn wanted to thank her again, but could tell from the look on her face that he didn't have to. Instead, with hands that trembled, he fastened the headset.
“Poe,” he said, unable to keep himself from smiling just being able to speak the name to him in person. “Poe Dameron.”
Poe laughed, right there in Finn's ear, and the sound seemed to surge through his entire nervous system and settled deep in the pit of his stomach.
“Finn,” he said and there was still laughter in his voice. “How are you, buddy? I hear you're doing great in the armory.”
“Just trying to do my part.” Finn shrugged, even though Poe couldn't see him.
“From what I hear you're doing more than that, teaching others and all?” Poe said, and Finn marvelled at how he managed to do instantly do that. To sound so impressed, to pinpoint something about Finn's actions to find impressive, at all times.
For a second, Finn felt like asking that very question, but he thought better of it. They'd had that argument before and they were bound to have it again. He just didn't want to have it over a slightly buzzy call-line across the galaxy.
“I'm not out saving an important trade post from invasion,” he said instead.
“Not just me doing that.” Poe's answer came quickly. Ever so humble about these things. They were more alike than not in that sense. For a second there was quiet on the line and Finn thought he might have lost the connection.
“Poe?” His heartbeat only scrambling a little at the thought of the conversation ending so soon. Ending without him having said any of the things he'd promised himself to try and say the next time he spoke to the pilot. The things he didn't want to write in a letter.
“I'm here,” Poe said, and Finn knew that if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that Poe really was, right there, hanging over his shoulder as he spoke.
“It's so good to hear your voice,” Finn said, and he could swear he heard the long breath that the other man let out on the other end of the line, when he did.
“Yeah,” Poe said, voice a little husky. “You too, you know?”
“I know.” Finn smiled to himself, not entirely sure that Poe could hear it, but hoping based on the knowledge that he himself could recognize a smile from Poe's own tone. “The General says she thinks you'll be back soon.”
“Good. I hope so,” Poe said, an edge of relief to his words.
“I...” And Finn was going to tell him everything: that he missed Poe, missed him with the realisation that Poe was like a part being ripped from him. Missed him like waking up one day and realizing you only had one hand or you suddenly couldn't see the colour blue. Missed him like Poe was a place of belonging and that Finn could never replicate if he wasn't around.
There was sudden scratching and voices on Poe's end, interrupting Finn before he got any of these thoughts out, even if he had rehearsed it several times in front of the mirror in Poe's bathroom during the day.
“I'm so sorry, I gotta go,” Poe said.
“I know.” Finn wanted to let out a string of curses, but he also didn't want that to be the last Poe heard from him for Stars knew how long. “Be safe.” He said after some consideration, and even in just two words he can hear himself sounding all but fine, a little quiet, a little muted.
“Always, you hear me?” Poe's emphasis on “always” felt like the vocal equivalent of a familiar squeeze on the shoulder. It made Finn's insides go a little warm. He smiled and closed his eyes, bracing himself just a little for the goodbye. “And Finn?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
There was too long a pause after that, Finn knew. But he needed it, had to stop himself from thinking or doing anything else and just breathe, his ribs feeling too tight against his lungs. His head was light and spinning again and he had to hold on to the nearest chair as he waited it out, wondering if Poe had disconnected the call already.
“Poe,” he managed at last. Just that, but the name felt warm and full of awe as it left his lips.
“Still here.” Poe's voice. Calm, seemingly unharmed by the long silence.
“Poe,” Finn repeated, wanting to say it again with everything it made him feel.
He wanted to tell Poe to return, to tell him just how much he wanted to look into Poe's eyes as he said those very words again and again, for Poe to stand close enough to feel the shortness of breath in Finn's throat and the way his heart seemed to skip every other beat just to double up the next. But again there was too little time, and too much in Finn's head to say all of that so he summed it up as best as he could.
“Come home,” he said.
“Soon,” Poe said and there's that audible smile in his voice. “I promise.”