flightforfreedom | A stupid post for stupid threads

There was no response to that, none at all. He opened his mouth to try some last minute, cool comeback- and nothing. Zip. So he busied himself with toweling off his face and hair first, hoping the blush could somewhat pass as thanks to the friction. Then it was heading over to get the rations and drinks, carting them over to the table while Poe remade the bed.

Finn had to stop for a minute, back to Poe, as the sheer...domesticity of the scene sank in. He'd had a family once, he logically knew that. But nothing about carrying trays of food in a mess hall or making bunks for inspection came close to this. And that...

He cleared his throat slightly, folding the now wet towel over one arm.

"Mind if I borrow some pants?"

"Yeah, go ahead, man," Poe said, gesturing to the closet as he bundled up the damp sheets to take them to the other corner of the room, sending them into the laundry chute.

"Try the bantha leather ones. Might be a little tight, but I certainly won't be complaining. Grab something for me too, would you?"

He didn't *want *to get dressed, but if Finn was going to wear pants then so was he.

Whatever the oddness that came with the unfamiliarity of the situation, Finn couldn't help a chuckle at that. At least it was the same Poe. No tense awkward end like the other time, no running off. Just endless mouth running seemingly aimed more at getting a reaction than said with real purpose or demands.

Still, he checked if the pants actually existed. He didn't grab them, for either of them, but the fact of their existence in Poe's closest was now something that would be in his mind forever. Which...okay. Back to putting on a looser fitting pair of training pants and bringing out a similar pair to put next to the food on the table.

He could live with another minute of watching a naked man make the bed. He isn't quite as bold here as in other missions, though, quickly (and obviously) turning away the moment he's caught staring.

"Food?"

He turned his head as he was just about finished to catch Finn looking at him, a smug grin pulling up one side of his face.

"Starving," He agreed as he stepped over, maybe flaunting a little bit. He was a good looking man at the best of times, but now he was wearing a few dark bruises like they were medals of honour, and taking the pants into his arms far too slowly.

"Take whatever you like," He added, still looking at him, making it very clear he did not only mean the food before he finally started pulling on the trousers.

It was such a stark contrast to the way the last time ended that Finn almost wanted to ask about it. While he can pinpoint the moment it went wrong, for the life of him he can't figure out why one little show of uncertainty had made it all spiral out of control. He manages not to. For now. But the question stays lodged in his throat, ready to make a daring escape.

Better to take a nice long drink to try and shove it down. It also gave him a good excuse to close his eyes while Poe got the pants on. He was not going to watch every inch of skin vanish, no matter how tempting. He had a good memory. He'd manage.

"Finally made it to evening drinks."

It wasn't quite the question and it was said with a smile after Poe was half-dressed again, but it alluded to that night. So much for winning that war.

Once he had his pants on he flopped down on the couch, reaching over to grab a pack of rations and pat the seat beside him for Finn to join him.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, his mind was so firmly on this night rather than the last one that he didn't even register the comment as referring to the last time, and he just smiled up at him.

"Don't jinx it," He teased as he finally got the rations opened and popped something crunchy into his mouth.

There is a feeling somewhere between fond, amused, and exasperated that Finn had never experienced before meeting Poe. Now he found himself in a near constant state of it. So what could he do except take the offered seat and jab Poe lightly in the ribs with his closest elbow.

"Not really a believer in jinxing."

Poe swung an arm over Finn's shoulders, pulling his legs up to slide them onto his lap as if this was exactly what he did every time he sat down. Half on the couch and half on Finn, the ration packet balanced on his knee.

"That's because you're not a pilot," he smirked. "You've never met a more superstitious bunch in your entire life, I promise."

He pulled out a piece of dehydrated fruit, broke it in half and offered one to Finn.

He accepted the fruit with a shake of his head, and also accepted his new position in life as part of Poe's furniture by resting his arms on top of Poe's legs. No complaints about being cold now.

"Oh, yeah? What else you got."

"Me? I've got BB-8. I know I'm good," he said, smiling, and not saying fully what he was thinking. "But a lot of us carry objects, you know. Jewellery. Something that was with you that one time that you were definitely about to die and then managed not to, so now you bring it everywhere." He grinned, leaning in to press his face into Finn's throat, nipping at it.

"Huh. I guess I do have something like that..."

"Pretty sure we crashed."

But the kiss was an appreciated gesture. It earned a gentle rub to the back of Poe 's neck, further messing the short hair there. Appreciated, even as it made the piece of fruit settle hard and cold in his stomach. Too close..

"You were the best way before Jakku."

"Usually the flattery comes before the shower," Poe teased him, leaning up to give him a quick kiss before reaching for his own drink.

If he thought about this conversation at all, his stomach would be sinking too.

But the self-denial at the moment was purposeful, and deep.

"No flattery in facts."

He was watching Poe's throat work as he swallowed. It took a long moment to realize that fact, leaving him no choice but to take another long swig of his to break the moment.

"You know I'm only good at the truth."

Too much so, most days. Unless a friend's life depended on it.

"Only good at the truth, huh?" Poe asked, the humour fading into something much more fond - beyond fond, probably, but luckily he couldn't actually see his own face. He set his drink down and shifted in Finn's lap, his knees sliding to either side, leaning in to take a kiss.

"'Perfect'?"

"Insane, suicidal, reckless, way too trusting."

There wasn't much thought to it, Finn's hands simply came up to rest on Poe's hips. Not quite over the bruises, the angle was wrong, but close. No matter future consequence, there wasn't a point in lying. Even when he'd barely met the man, Poe saw through him anyway.

"Stubborn, confusing. And you saved my life a couple times. Sounds perfect to me."

"Yeah, well, guilty as charged," He murmured unable to push the smile down, his heart beating along at a clip far too fast. "Though 'confusing' is an easy enough one to clear up. Unless that's part of the appeal."

"As for trusting--" He ran a hand over Finn's hair, pulled back enough to watch his palm slide down, fingers grazing Finn's ear, before trailing down, his hand settling just around the base of his throat. "... Seems to have worked out pretty well, so far."

"Start bringing stormtroopers back on every mission and it'll turn against you eventually."

He tilted his head back, letting Poe move his hand where he would. His pulse increased a bit, so much time spent in close company certainly a first. But for all his talk, he trusted Poe too. Not only because he'd proven himself over and over. He'd trusted him from the moment he'd refused to call Finn by his number. Poe could choke him and Finn would only sit and wait to see what what the man was up to.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he agreed. "Shouldn't test my luck... I think one is enough, anyway."

He didn't choke Finn, just let his thumb stroke against his Adam's apple. He couldn't see any mark where he'd bit Finn, but he could feel his own.

"You want to stay the night?" He asked finally. It wasn't the question he wanted to ask. And for a second he wasn't going to, but then his brain got ahead of his sense.

"Or do you consider this particular debt settled?"

The tone was incredibly casual, but still managed to convey the actual thought. Are we going to keep doing this, or is this it?

"Technically, I still owe you one. If we're keeping score."

He stayed perfectly still, hands still on Poe's hips, neck exposed. But his tone had shifted from dry to uncertain, and even from the odd angle of having his head tipped back he's trying to get a read on the man's expression after that question. This wasn't something he did. This was all wandering off in uncharted space, and it was all exactly as dangerous as it sounded. Poe's last question made all of that irrelevant, though. For this exact moment at any rate, sitting with a lap full of pilot and dressed in the other man's clothing. The next part of his reply is slower, clearly watching how the reception goes.

"But, uh...I don't think we're keeping score."

Ah, there it was. That familiar feeling of his heart dropping into his stomach - though it didn't break his smile. But there was the unnatural stillness, the uncertain edge. That gentle voice somewhere in the back of his mind: Shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to.

But it wasn't a real answer, and it didn't satisfy. His hand slipped lower, pressed against Finn's sternum as he shifted his weight backward a little so he could meet Finn's gaze.

"I think you underestimate my competitive streak," He said wryly, with a smirk. But then the smirk faded slightly. Time to cut through the bullshit. "Come on, Finn. You can talk to me."

"You want me to stay?"

He hadn't meant for it to come out that uncertain sounding, but he couldn't help swallowing down the unsettled feeling in his stomach. So now here they are.

He thinks he wants to stay. He knew he shouldn't, knew Poe probably knew that too based on last time. But history showed he wasn't much good at following what was smart when Poe wanted otherwise.

The tightness in his chest relaxed a little, reflecting in his expression.

"Yeah," He answered, honestly, his voice warm.

He knew it was a bad idea, too. Or at least, part of him knew. But there was another part of him - a loud, newborn part of him - that wanted to shoot anything in the universe that would keep him from Finn. That would take on an entire fleet, single handed.

He wanted this more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

"I want you to stay."

"So I'll stay."

He said it like it was simple, as easy as reaching up to pull Poe close enough to kiss again was.

In some ways, it was. He wasn't going to just shoot Poe down, not when he'd just gotten him back. Tomorrow would be a time for the rest. Like actually getting to the Starkiller base had been the time to figure out how to lower the shield. The people he cared about came first, dealing with the consequences of that fact came later.

A stupid post for stupid threads

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