Finn is just walking through the runway while the pilots come in after a routine training exercise - absolutely not looking for a certain pilot, mind you - when something, or rather, someone falls right into his arms.
He immediately freezes, the training that he’s not quite shaken off yet sending his mind racing through protocol, nerves on the edge-
Then his fingers register the coarse fabric and the warmth of the body through the worn pilot suit and Finn finds himself blinking down at Poe’s slightly embarrassed face.
The Resistance pilot shoots him his impeccable roguish smile, perfect for all that his arms are stiffly crossed over his chest and Finn realises that he’s practically cradling the man in his arms.
“Thanks for the catch but, d’ya think you could put me down now?” Poe laughs and Finn immediately flusters and actually drops the man - and if it were anyone other than Poe (who is all loud brash confidence and skill), he probably would’ve flopped to the ground in an ungainly pile, but the man just flips himself and lands on his feet, right as the proverbial rain.
“I’m so sorry-” Finn starts, spluttering a little, but Poe’s already shrugging it off with his usual broad grin that makes Finn’s breath catch sometimes because it’s the same smile. Then he’s staring up at the wing of his fighter, frown on his face, rubbing the back of his head.
“Weird, it was almost like something pushed me off-”
Finn boggles at him a bit but Poe’s already moved on - always two steps ahead of him, somehow - attention turned to where a small entourage is passing through. Finn hurriedly whirls to follow his gaze to see Skywalker cutting through the crowd and Rey following after him, probably returning from a training session.
“Oh hey, Rey!” Poe lifts a hand in greeting and Rey beams brightly back, but when she turns to look at Finn, her eyes are practically glittering and he just catches the edges of her lips curling up a bit as she turns away.
Then someone from over at the base is yelling out Poe’s name.
“That’s my call,” He claps a hand on Finn’s shoulder as he moves to leave. “See you around, buddy!”
And Finn’s left standing there by the side of the Black One, blinking in the sunlight in the mellow D’Qar air, the bustle of the base, still on high alert, rumbling around him.
His fingers are still tingling a little, stinging, and it’s a strange sensation and the back of his mind is furiously cataloguing away the data he had instinctively recorded, the side effect of training to be a tool of the First Order - eyes, ears, hands that were never solely to be his own, but always for the sake of the Order...
...but the memories of the warmth of Poe’s body, shifting solid muscle against his arms.
That is all his own...and his only.
But he wants something more.
“So...that trooper of yours, he’s pretty much the talk ‘round the base,” Jess says from above him, from where she’s perched on the fighter’s wing, legs swinging idly.
“Not my trooper, Pava,” Poe says automatically. “Do your work.”
They scrub down the planes every other week, make them all shiny and new in the lull when they’re not sent on missions or in-between trainings. General Organa had impressed on the importance of that to them from the very start - because they were more than just mere starfighters, more than mere pilots.
“Oh I will, once you stop staring at the man, Dameron.”
Poe blinks, then realises that his rag has been making the same circles around the side of the fighter ever since he had spied Finn and Rey come out onto the runway. Cutting off a silent curse, he turns back and rubs furiously at the black metal.
Really, just because you gave a man a jacket-
“I’m not staring-”
“Oh please, Poe, the man’s wearing your jacket.”
“It’s just a jacket, Jes-”
“Really? That fugly old thing you wore when you went after the Yissira Zyde and never stopped wearing since? Your lucky jacket, badge of honour-”
“Okay hey, it’s not old, it’s just...vintage, and it’s very good quality-”
“Oh look, here he comes.”
Poe turns just in time to see Finn come jogging over, waving wildly. Jess grins and throws her cloth down at him.
“I think I should go.”
He’s got a round of merciless teasing just waiting for him later at night in the pilot’s quarters when the drinks come out, but then Finn’s there in front of him with a smile as bright as the day (that he gives to everyone, Poe chides himself).
“Well, well, someone’s a big hero now. Talk of Resistance, I hear,” He leans back and folds his arms, forcing an easy smile to his face. He lets his gaze drop to rove over Finn’s figure for a moment, taking in the way the leather fits snugly over the smooth black fabric of his inner shirt. It really does fit him well.
Finn flusters, like he always does, so unused to praise, any praise at all.
“I’m not, c’mon Poe, you know I’m not any of that.”
“Hey, you did bust me out of a First Order spaceship from under the crazy Ren’s nose. I think that’s pretty bad ass.”
“Oh yeah? Bad ass enough for the Resistance’s best pilot?”
“Shut up and help me clean,” Poe laughs and throws a rag at Finn.
It’s nothing - so he spends the next five minutes convincing himself anyway and then there’s a splash and a loud yelp.
Poe swears the bucket of water had been nowhere near the edge, or even anywhere on the plane to begin with but it appears out of nowhere anyway and overturns over Finn’s head. Poe stares at the plastic bucket over his friend’s head, stuffs down the urge to laugh and tosses his rag to the side to pluck it off a very stunned Finn.
“How did that happen?” Finn asks, baffled and runs his hands over his face to flick the water off it. Poe moves to hand him a towel, but his eyes graze over the damp black fabric clinging tightly to Finn’s body-
Then Finn strips without a second thought.
“Woah there,” Poe lets slip, and then he’s thankful that that’s the only thing that slipped off the edge of his tongue.
He doesn’t really want to think about how Finn might react.
But he also can’t quite keep his eyes off the way the water droplets are shining in the sunlight as they trickle down the expanse of Finn’s dark skin, dripping down from his strong jaw to pool in the dip of sharp collarbones and then tracing lines down the contours of his muscles down well-built arms and torso-
“What?” Finn asks, a perplexed look on his face and wet t-shirt balled up in his hands.
“Nah, nothing,” Poe manages and turns back to the X-Wing, but he can still see the solid muscles of Finn’s broad shoulders hard at work as he continues scrubbing at the side of the fighter out of the corner of his eyes.
See, the thing is, Poe’s been there - here - before. He knows what infatuation feels like and this? This is it, full blown, and maybe even more.
But Finn had been a stormtrooper - who knows if...this is even on his mind, much less welcomed if not reciprocrated.
And the first thing he had said when he had come to, nearly lunging out of the medpod to do so, had been Rey’s name.
So of course, he did what he does best when it came to matters like this - ignored it.
Except it’s biting him in the arse right now like the worst case of cosmic karma ever.
Finn is alone at his usual spot in the mess hall.
Rey had left just moments earlier, having already nearly finished her meal when Finn came in.
He doesn’t quite fit in yet. Here, in D’Qar, in the Resistance base.
Sure, he’s busy all the time - the week after he’d been given the all clear from the med droids, he had all but been shut in a room and asked a blaster-barrage of questions about the First Order - but he just doesn’t quite fit very well with the rest of the base. It’s still hard adapting socially to the way things are here, but he’s only really truly relaxed with Rey or the Starfighter pilots….okay, who’s he kidding, it’s really just Poe.
The pilots come in together, as they always do after their trainings, with Poe at the front of them all, gesturing wildly amidst the loud bustle of chatter.
Finn looks up excitedly when he hears them, then freezes.
Again. Actually he’s been doing this a lot lately around the other.
The thing is, Poe’s not in his pilot suit as usual - instead he’s stripped off the top half of the orange jumpsuit and tied it around his waist.
Leaving only the skin-tight white undershirt that went under it.
It takes two (very panicked) large gulps of water before he can breathe again.
“I swear the bottle just, I don’t know, exploded in my hands.”
“Poe, you’re getting clumsier by the day - first you’re tripping over your feet, then falling off things, and now you’re spilling drinks down your suit, what next?”
The back of his ears are burning but Finn waves to them as they near, secretly hoping that none of them had caught his little episode. Jessika waves back first, but then her eyes take on a different light and she throws her head back to whisper something to the rest of the pilots.
Finn can’t catch it from where he’s at but it has the lot of them roaring in laughter, and Poe groaning and burying his head in his hands.
(Sometimes Finn thinks it must be so nice to have such a close squad of comrades, so unlike how things had been with his fellow troopers.)
“Jess for the last time-”
“Hey Poe,” Finn starts and Poe immediately shuts his mouth with a loud clack. Jessika winks at her fellow pilots, then she sits their leader down opposite Finn and promptly ushers all the rest of them in the direction of the serving stations.
“This is not what it looks like,” Poe says in a rush, hands pressed down on the table between them and actually looking a bit embarrassed. “I was just taking a drink of water when the top of my bottle just shot off, just like that! Probably some pressure build-up or something, but it’s crazy right?”
Then he frowns and mutters something along the lines of ”... definitely karma.”
On his part, Finn is trying really,really hard not to ogle his friend(?)’s extremely well-defined chest and slender sides.
It should be illegal for those shirts to be so tight.
And so see-through.
It’s not like they’ve not dealt with attraction within the Stormtrooper ranks….well, if not dealing with it could be considered dealing with it.
“So uh, did you catch Rey just now? She just left,” Finn asks, trying to change the topic. He is staring resolutely down at his tray now
Beans, yeah, beans were great.
“Oh yeah! I saw her while heading in from the hangar, just before my bottle decided to turn on me actually,” Poe grins that lopsided smile, gaze warm and soft as he leans forward across the table to Finn on strong folded arms and the air vents tousles his dark brown curls loosely over his forehead.
Finn is this close to plunging headfirst into those damn beans.
“Woah that’s one tiny comms room,” Finn remarks as he stands by the doors, peering into the small room - more like hole-in-the-wall - that is this ancient ship’s communications bay, apparently.
“Pretty crazy isn’t it,” Poe replies as he rummages through the mess of wires and half-torn out console panels to find the wrench that Finn says Rey needs. Sure the space in his X-Wing cockpit is nothing to shout about, but it’s still only a fighter, this is an actual freighter that people had to work, live and travel through the galaxies in.
It’s a small freighter they’re in, so old that all the markings are indecipherable and the paint’s completely stripped by cosmic radiation. Poe can’t even remember any models of starships looking like this from his old history lessons, not that he paid much attention once they past the fighters anyway. Still, it had looked like something that had been in a junkyard for at least half a century or more.
Still, the Resistance has been short on supplies with the Republic’s leadership in fragments and squabbling endlessly, so every bit that they can scrimp or recover, they do.
Rey had lugged this ship back after her latest mission, claiming that it probably had some parts that could be modified for their X-Wings or at the very least, scrapped to be reused for maintaining the base.
For all that the ship looks like a rotting ancient death trap outside, the inside’s actually in pretty good shape. Pretty dusty, but otherwise clean and relatively intact. Rey immediately busies herself in the engine compartment, fiddling around with the fuses and controlboard until the back-up lights come on in the corridors and all the doors start creaking slowly open. Then she’s all busy talking about what they can salvage from the core engine and hyperdrive and the console room and the gunner bay...
”The ship’s old enough that it probably has a dedicated communication room,” She had instructed. ”They used rare metals in the consoles back then and those are worth quite a lot, so go and pluck those right out of the wall.”
“I think it’s over there, the wrench she needs,” Finn points out, leaning through the doors slightly to point it out. Poe follows his finger and reaches out for the square shaped tool, brandishing it triumphantly. Finn takes a step to reach for it and there’s suddenly a pole on corridor that he swears was never there before.
The next thing Poe knows is Finn flying towards him and then he has an armful of the man and they’re both crashing into the jumbled wires.
The walls are so close that they’re pressed together, noses nearly touching. Poe can feel Finn’s breath lifting in his chest, pressed against his own, the other man’s solid limbs around him and pinning him down. It’s dark in the room now without the dim light from the corridor, but there’s just enough light streaming in from the broken part of the door that lights up the swirling dust and falls softly over Finn’s face.
They’re like that for a good moment, just staring into each other’s eyes and if this were a proper romantic film, there’ll be violins in the background and roses instead of wires, but as it is, this is Poe Dameron’s life, so there’s just wires and sparks from the old broken consoles but somehow, that’s okay too.
Then Finn’s rocketing into action, propping himself up and checking all over if Poe is okay, not that his wandering hands while they’re pressed together so tightly is helping much in other ways.
It’s probably not the time and definitely not the place, but Poe really can’t help the slow grin spreading over his face now.
”I kind of thought this would happen in a more comfortable setting, like, a bed.”
Finn’s wide eyes blink, then go even wider and his face reddens completely.
“No! I didn’t mean-” He starts, flustered, hands dancing off Poe’s body like he’s not sure where to put them now.
“I swear that pole wasn’t there before, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened- there was nothing there before!”
Their limbs just keep tangling for some reason and all Finn’s struggle to pick himself up accomplishes is to tie them up even more in the mass of wires, their heated breaths mingling in the small space between their lips.
For a stormtrooper, Finn’s always been an easy person to read, like the first time they’d met when he had looked through the false calm in his eyes to see the nervousness that was running amok in his eyes.
Now it’s same, a panicked expression, but it’s like he doesn’t quite know what to do, to stop or to...he knows that look, he’s seen it before - it’s want, but more than that, almost like a need, and sure there’s lust, but it’s not just that, it’s….
And then he realises that the look deep in Finn’s eyes is the exact mirror of his own.
Poe has really never been good at this.
“Oops, wrong fuses.” Rey says when the door finally opens to reveal her standing on the other side, fingers interwoven and a grin that’s strangely teasing beneath the apology.
There’s no stray pole anywhere on the floor to be seen.
They’re not even ten steps away from the ship when Finn blurts out, “Can I kiss you?”
Then he freezes (again!) and slaps his hands over his mouth.
He hadn’t meant to let the question slip, although it had been looping in his mind ever since Rey had helped to free them from the wires.
The light is slowly fading away as the day moves into the evening but there’s still enough setting sun to silhouette Poe’s figure as he slowly turns around.
“Took you long enough to ask,” Poe grins, but then his smile softens and Finn thinks he actually heard his heart stutter a little.
“I think I’d like that.”
“I-” He starts, I don’t know what to do, he wants to say, but then his feet are somehow moving and then they’re touching and Poe’s lips are strong and a bit rough at the corners, but warm and sweet and right where his are meant to be.
They only spot their company when they reluctantly part.
Luke sighs, Leia can’t quite hide her smile and Rey just grins.
Finn and Poe just blink at each other, thoroughly confused.
“Repeat after me: The Force is not to be used for matchmaking.”