flightforfreedom | A stupid post for stupid threads

"They trained you to fight against lightsabers, but that the jedi were all dead?" Poe asked, glancing up as he shuffled over a bit to let Finn in beside him on the bed, sliding a arm around his waist to settle a hand on his hip comfortably. His fingers absent-mindedly playing with the hem of his shirt.

"That sounds - - confusing."

"Should have just handed out sabers instead."

Finn leans forward enough to mock, with his upper body at least, holding a light saber in a defensive pose.

"That thing's amazing. Hurts like he'll...but, man. Gonna have to get Rey to give me one."

There was a flicker in his eyes at Rey's name, but he didn't say anything. Maybe his grip around Finn's waist got a little tighter. He chuckled lowly, though, amused at the excitement.

"You want to be a Jedi, huh?" he teased him.

Finn pulled a bit of a face, but held the pose for another few seconds before dropping his arms. Rey was incredible, and he's heard about that last battle. He knew what she was probably getting up to with Luke. And couldn't imagine how as fiercely an independent person as her must feel about it.

"Nah. Too much destiny. I'm good just letting them hit me with sticks."

"Yeah," He agreed, pulling Finn back against him and turning to press a kiss to his shoulder despite the fact that the action of turning made him wince. "Too much destiny. Way too much destiny. If I think too hard about it, it starts making my head hurt."

"But if one starts whacking you around I'll come have a word with my x-wing," he teased.

"Wait- you mean BB-8 didn't tell you the story?"

He should have known, really. Way too little teasing over Finn's first stint as a 'hero.' But maybe the droid hadn't wanted to talk the days he thought Poe was dead. If droids had long term emotional pain and not just a stored data file about events.

"There's a story about being hit with a stick?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, but it was obviously that he had already considered this sitting still too long, as his hands were starting to wander.

"He didn't tell me that one. He told me that he rolled across the desert, nearly got stolen by an alien riding a giant beast with a net, got saved by a girl in the desert, and then found you when he recognized me jacket. He did give me a pretty good play by play of how he rolled around in the Falcon while you guys were escaping, mostly because he thought he'd rather go in the x-wing from now on --"

"He left out the zapping? And how I tried to rescue the damsel in distress and he got her to run me down instead?"

Finn sits still, not quite ready to be an end to hand wandering. He will, eventually. He really should, anyway. Poe popping his stitches during sex wasn't really a turn on. But he shifts to run the fingers of one hand along the back of Poe's neck in return. Fair was fair.

"Damsels in distress?" He asked, smirking, taking the inch that Finn gave him and running with it for a mile. Fingers slipped up under Finn's shirt, playing softly at his ribs as his lips trailed up towards his throat.

He might only be paying half attention to Finn's voice - the fingers on the back of his neck were much more important.

Hey, some things almost compared with flying.

"Yeah, well..."

Okay. That was distracting. Finn obliged by tilting his head back, giving up more of his neck to the man. He swallowed, trying to remember where he was going with this story. Something about...distress.

"Not so much. More like damsel kicking ass, including mine. BB-8 was not pleased seeing your jacket on someone else."

"Well BB-8 doesn't always have as discerning taste as I do," he teased lowly as he mouthed gently at Finn's skin, his tongue flicking to taste the salt, his hands wandering further, one sliding down his thigh.

"I, on the other hand, quite liked seeing you appear in my jacket..."

"I remember."

Grab Poe's wrist, brings hands back into a safe area, start talking about the unsexiest things he could think of. Ration supplies and weapon upgrades, anything. Those were the things he should be doing for Poe's sake. Certainly not shifting so his palm as flat against the back of Poe's neck, fingers curling around, to show his approval of current activities.

That was he thing he definitely shouldn't do. He'd have to find a way to get his brain to actually let his body know that. Later.

"With you I didn't even get shot at ten seconds later, either. BB-8 could learn some things."

"I think he's learned a lot about you," Poe murmured, his voice still filled with humour, but as a much lower, huskier, decibel. "In fact I know you have a pretty high approval rating..."

He slowly pulled his hand closer between Finn's legs, before his palm grazed over his groin with a soft, but very intentional pressure.

"Ah- okay, okay. Poe, you-"

Now. Now was the time for brain and body coordination before Poe started trying to bend in very appealing, but very unhelpful for his own recovery positions. The hand was off the neck, both hands needed to grab onto Poe's wrists and try to pull him away.

"You're a...a trouble maker."

Damn. Caught. He tried to give an innocent look. (And failed. You need to stop looking so smug if you want to look innocent, Poe.)

"You can't blame me, right?" He asked, leaning in with his nose and lips since he couldn't reach with his hands, nuzzling against his chin. "But I really doubt a little trouble would hurt..."

One little kiss wouldn't-

No. Finn gave a small groan, but pulled his head back. Notably without letting go of the wrists. There is no trust here, Poe. None.

"If you were anyone else, you'd already be dead. You need to take it easy. For another couple days."

"Well I'm not anyone else. I'm me. And I'm alive, and am quite happy to be alive, and quite happy to be sitting in bed with you." He couldn't reach him anymore, so instead he just met his gaze, still leaning forward.

"I'm not going to run off and get myself killed. I promise. But I'm going crazy 'taking it easy'."

Finn was momentarily at a loss with that. Taking it easy wasn't something he had much experience with- but then again, neither were near death injuries. He'd been in training then a defector. No time to experience 'leave' of any kind. He had no personal experience to draw on to help with this. But, surely, someone that grew up outside the Order must have spent a lazy day in their life.

"You really never sat still for a while? Even as a kid?"

"I sit still in my cockpit all the time," Poe replied teasingly, trying to ease his wrists free. "But I've been flying since I can remember, Finn, or close enough. But that's probably a question you'd have to ask my dad," He admitted, grinning.

"Why sit still when you can fly?"

"Because-"

But Finn just sighed and shook his head. This wasn't an argument logic was going to win. There's no beating illogical impulses, and wanting to push a healing body was clearly in that category.

"What d'you do in the X-wing? For all that time."

"Well once you're in hyperspace, your course is already plotted, so you don't have to pay too much attention to the actual flying," He said, before wetting his lips. He could tell the truth - which was a fairly boring, or he could grin ruefully and say,

"I can show you what I get up to, if you like."

Finn eyed him a little warily, catching that look. That look did not promise Poe would demonstrate the act of settling down to nap or read a mission report. Not at all.

"...Alright."

"Grab my holovid player," Poe said, gesturing to it across the room - pretty sure that if he went up and got it that he would get another lecture. But they could watch it here on bed.

Best place for this sort of thing.

This was a trap. Watching holovids seemed far too benign an activity for that look. But, obediently, he went and followed Poe's request. Considering the day, he wasn't really inclined to deny Poe much more.

He settled back into his spot and handed over the player with a suspicious look.

Poe took the holovid player and spent a moment considering, but then he knew exactly which vid he was going to put on.

He may have picked it up after he'd met Finn.

"It's a good time to catch up on entertainment," he said, still grinning, as he punched in the sequence for the exact video he was thinking of. As soon as he did, the title 'Hot Escape' flashed in front of them, and then projected a very poorly constructed set of an Imperial (look, it wasn't a new holovid) interrogation room. A rebellion pilot was clasped in handcuffs on the bench, when the door opened and a storm trooper strode in. The armour, at least, looked real.

"Do what you want with me," The pilot, in terrible acting, said, puffing up his chest in defiance. "I'll never give up the rebellion!"

"Oh I plan to," the Stormtrooper said, throwing aside his blaster. "You'll be giving up everything to me by the time we're done."

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