Not for the first time, Finn wishes he was better at bluffing.
The trouble all starts when he's in the rec room one evening with some of Poe’s squadron, all of whom seem happy to follow Poe’s lead in adopting him as an honorary member, and someone calls out for music.
Finn waits for someone to turn on some music from the speakers, but instead Jessika Pava turns to Poe with a grin, nudging his arm as she says teasingly, “Well, Dameron? Your public awaits.”
Poe groans, tipping his head back. “C’mon guys, not tonight.”
“Wait, what's happening?” Finn asks before he can think twice, and both Poe and Jess turn to face him, their eyes wide--Poe's with surprise, and Jess’s with dawning glee.
“Oh, now you have to go up there--Finn’s never heard you perform before!” Finn immediately adopts an innocent look, one that hopefully indicates him not wanting to pressure Poe into doing anything--while also indicating that he'd love to hear Poe play. You know, only if he was up for it.
Whatever look Finn does have on his face, Poe still looks irresolute, saying, “I don't even have my guitar up here--”
“There's a spare over in the corner,” Snap points out, grinning when Poe shoots him a dark look.
Finn doesn't want to pressure Poe into doing something he doesn't want to do, he really doesn't, but he does want to hear Poe play. “I'd like to hear you play,” he says, with a shrug he hopes comes across as casual. “You know, if you're up for it.”
Jess smiles at Poe, waggling her eyebrows. “So how about it, Poe?”
“Come on, Commander,” D’tlek says, loudly enough to grab the attention of the room, and now everyone’s looking at Poe with anticipation.
Poe’s more than aware of it, looking around before delivering a heavy sigh. “Fine, you win,” he says. “I want to state for the record, though, that you're all the worst. Aside from Finn, I don’t know why I keep any of you around.”
“Because you love us and we bring joy to your life,” Jess deadpans, and Finn laughs. Poe makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he still claps a hand on Finn’s shoulder as he gets out of his seat, so he’s clearly not too upset.
Which is good, because Finn’s looking forward to this. He settles back into his seat as Poe sits in a chair at the front of the room, smiling sheepishly at the crowd. “Uh, I didn’t plan on doing this tonight, so--hope you don’t mind hearing an old favorite.” He strums the guitar for a moment, and Finn smiles, waiting--
And then Poe opens his mouth and starts to sing, and Finn’s brain immediately short-circuits.
He’s dimly aware of Jess turning to watch him at various points during the song, and normally Finn would mind that more--he tries to be better at hiding his feelings for Poe when other people are watching--but at this moment, he can’t care about any of that, what he cares about is Poe, Poe singing that low, mournful song with that voice, his eyes closed so that his eyelashes stand out against the curve of his cheek, his fingers strumming at the guitar, his--
Finn tries, on the whole, not to focus on how beautiful Poe is; it’s not productive, but at moments like this, it’s all he can see.
He’s still too stunned to react right away when the song comes to an end, jumping in his seat as the room bursts into applause, then dazedly clapping himself. Poe smiles at the crowd, nodding in acknowledgment--and then he catches sight of Finn, and he breaks out into a wide grin. Finn should do something--smile back, wave--but all he can do is gape like a moof-milker. This is awful.
“I had a feeling he’d like showing off for you,” Jess says, musingly.
Finn turns to her, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”
“Easy, Pava,” Snap says, sounding amused, and Finn twists around to ask what they’re not telling him--but then Poe’s rejoining the table, smiling at them all as he asks, “So, is everyone satisfied?”
“Oh, I think so,” Jess says. “How about it, Finn?”
Finn feels his face go blazing hot under everyone’s scrutiny. Poe’s the most interested of them all. “No, I--I liked it,” he says, stuttering a little. “That was, um. It was good. Really surprising, but good.”
“What, did you think I was going to be awful at it?” Poe asks with a grin, and Finn’s brain still isn’t functioning properly. That has to be why he looks from Poe’s face to Jess’s raised eyebrows and says, to throw off suspicion, “No, uh--you were great, I’d just never seen an instrument like that before.”
Oh, hell. Finn’s already wishing he could take back the lie--the small, totally harmless lie!--as Poe’s forehead furrows. “Wait, you’ve never seen a guitar before?”
Mentally kicking himself, Finn commits to his momentary stupidity. “Um. No.” His stomach--already not too steady from Poe’s music and his singing and his stupidly perfect face--twists in guilt as Poe immediately puts on a casual air to this supposed revelation.
Of course, Finn had forgotten they’re not alone.
Snap asks, a disturbed look on his face, “But--you did have some kinds of music with the First Order, right? Tell me they didn’t deprive you of that much.”
This is clearly Finn’s punishment for lying--yet another awkward round of discussing the differences between life in the First Order and life, well, just about anywhere else in the galaxy. “No, we had music. Just--it was all the big stuff for marches and parades, all loud and dramatic and stuff.” He hums a few lines of the classic Imperial March for them--BUM bum bu-da-da-dum dum bum bum BUM bum bu-da-da-dum--and explains, “Sanctioned music like that was okay.” Then, because he wants to change the subject, and because he’s tired of the pity, Finn turns back to Poe and says, “I liked that song you sang, though, it was great. The, um, the guitar playing was fantastic too.”
Poe gives him a crooked smile and says, “Yeah? I could show you how to play it, if you’re interested.”
“Um,” Finn says, and because that crooked half-smile is distracting as all hell, he says, “Yeah, sure, why not.”
And that’s how Finn ends up volunteering himself for guitar lessons.
Rey’s response to his panicked message, sent via an encrypted line on the holonet, is not even a little bit helpful.
I don’t see the problem--don’t you take every excuse you can to spend time with Poe anyway?
Finn gapes down at his datapad at this, then frantically starts typing away. He’s halfway through composing his accurate and detailed rebuttal, explaining exactly how he does not take every excuse he can get to spend time with Poe, thank you, and spending time with Poe is not the same thing as being alone with Poe while Poe is playing the guitar and being expected to behave like a rational being instead of drooling like a--
There’s a knock at his door, and Finn goes to swipe it open, and Poe is waiting there with a smile on his face, his guitar slung across his back. “Hey,” he says, with that warm smile of his. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, no,” Finn says hastily. “Just, uh, just writing a message to Rey--I’ll include it with the rest of the data dump tomorrow.” Then he comes back to himself and quickly steps inside so that Poe can come into his quarters.
Finn’s quarters have always felt spacious--so much room just for him--but with Poe there, dressed in civilian clothes for once, it suddenly feels incredibly small.
His gaze catches on the deep V of Poe’s shirt, the hint of chest hair, and so it takes a minute to actually process what Poe is asking. “What?” he asks, dragging his gaze back up to Poe’s face.
Poe’s smile has a different quality to it now, it’s smaller, almost knowing. “I was asking how Rey’s doing. You know, training out there with Luke.”
“She’s good,” Finn says. He smiles, the way he always does when talking about Rey. “She doesn’t say it, but I can tell she’s really happy out there. It’s good for her.”
Poe’s smile softens. “I’m glad.” He moves to take the guitar off his back, asking, “So, are you up for this?”
“Of course I am,” Finn says, trying to look and sound like someone who actually is ready for this. Whatever’s about to happen.
Poe starts to laugh as Finn eyes the guitar with what he feels is an appropriate level of wariness, telling him, “Come on, it’s not a wild nexu, it won’t bite.”
Carefully, Finn reaches out and takes the guitar by the neck, holding it gingerly in his hand. “So...how do we do this then?” He has a vague idea of him plucking unsuccessfully at the guitar while Poe sits across from him and gently lectures him into playing a decent note, but as it turns out, Poe’s more of a...hands-on teacher.
And by that, Finn means that Poe is unintentionally trying to drive him out of his head.
Poe’s idea of teaching Finn, as it turns out, is to have Finn sit on the bed, guitar in hand, while Poe sits behind him, plastered to his back, his chin hooked over Finn’s shoulder, hands resting over his, as he patiently attempts to coach him through creating a chord of music and Finn mostly tries not to die right then and there of heart failure.
It’s not as if this is the first time Poe has touched him. Finn’s been told he’s pretty tactile--although he tries to be mindful of people’s personal space--and Poe’s the same, at least with his friends. They’ve hugged, Finn’s spent his meals with Poe’s arm around his shoulders more often than not, and it shouldn’t be different now to have Poe touching him like this, but it is--oh, it really is.
It’s the warmth of Poe’s body against his back, it’s Poe’s breath just brushing the side of his cheeks, it’s Poe’s strong, nimble hands curving around his own, his fingers running along the very tip of Finn’s index finger as he explains--something. Finn has no idea what Poe’s saying and is hard-pressed to care so long as he keeps touching him like this.
“Could you, um,” Finn swallows, hoping his voice won’t crack, holding himself very still so he won’t squirm in his seat--or worse, lean back against Poe’s chest. “Could you maybe...repeat that again? I just, uh, want to make sure I’ve got it.”
“Sure thing, buddy,” Poe says, his warm voice making Finn shiver. “So what we want is for your index and middle finger to rest on these strings like that--” As Poe speaks, he manipulates Finn’s hand just so, coaxing it to curve around the guitar’s neck, gently pushing his fingers into the correct position. Finn gulps and tries to focus, he really does, but then Poe is taking his other hand and guiding him to strum the guitar slowly, pick in hand, and a chord rings out, low and sad.
“Huh,” Finn says, considering, and tries it again. The sound is--it’s not much, he knows that, but it sounds like actual music. He did that.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Poe says, and his voice has dropped down even lower, his breath whispering across Finn’s ear, and Finn shudders once more, harder this time. “You’re getting it.” As if by accident, his fingers stroke the back of Finn’s hand, and Finn goes very still.
Slowly, he turns his head to look at Poe, his breathing coming quicker now as he asks, “Poe?”
Poe turns to look at him, his eyes dark, his lips parted. And now that Finn is looking at him, he can tell that Poe’s breathing a little heavier too, that his face is a little flushed, that his eyes...his eyes keep drifting downward, to Finn’s mouth.
Suddenly all of it--the guitar lesson with only one guitar, the positions they’re in, hell, even Poe’s shirt with that positively indecent neckline--it all rearranges itself in Finn’s head, coming together to make an impossible, wonderful sort of sense.
“Okay then,” Finn hears himself say, faintly, and then, almost without thinking, he’s leaning in and kissing Poe on the mouth.
Finn has only ever done this--kissing--a handful of times, and it has never gone well, but this is just, this is wonderful, Poe’s soft mouth moving against his, Poe lifting a hand to touch his cheek, his fingers cool against Finn’s flushed skin. Then Poe licks at Finn’s mouth and Finn gasps a little, shocked, and Poe takes that as permission to kiss him harder, to lick his way into his mouth and, and--
Shuddering, Finn gives himself up to all of it, clumsily lowers the guitar from his lap to the floor and just gives himself up to Poe’s mouth, Poe’s hands gripping at the front of his shirt as they kiss and kiss like it could be outlawed at any second. Finn’s pulse is thundering in his ears, his palms are going sweaty and he’s hot all over and it’s--it’s the best feeling in the world, in the galaxy.
And if this is what just kissing Poe is like, then...stars above, what is the sex going to be like?
“I swear,” Poe’s mumbling now against Finn’s mouth, between feverish kisses, “I swear I didn’t actually plan for this to happen tonight.”
Finn pulls back at that, because he may be new to a lot of things still, but he knows nonsense when he hears it. “You didn’t?” he asks, sending a skeptical look to that neckline, then glancing down at the guitar on the floor.
When he looks back at Poe, Poe’s flushing harder now, but he’s grinning as he admits, “Well, it wasn’t a plan so much as a wish.”
Finn stammers out, “You...you wished for me?”
Poe’s entire face changes, goes soft as he says, so obviously heartfelt, “Finn. Of course I did.”
Finn can feel himself smiling at that, wide enough to split his face, but he can’t help it, not when Poe’s saying that, not when Poe is here and he wants Finn, in exactly the same way that Finn wants him. “Okay,” he says, beaming. “Then you’ve got me.”
Poe’s already grinning back as he pulls Finn into another kiss, and for a while, there’s no talking after that.
There is some talking later on, though, much later--when they’re going for round two, their clothes hastily discarded on Finn’s floor, Poe spread out on Finn’s bunk, gripping the sheets as Finn jerks him off with a hand wrapped tightly around his cock.
It still feels impossible that this is really happening, that Poe is here naked in his quarters, falling apart beneath his hands. It’s the kind of good fortune Finn still can’t believe is his, and he murmurs to himself, “I couldn’t believe it when Jess said you were showing off for me last night.”
Poe lets out something between a laugh and a groan, his breathing hitching as Finn reaches up with his free hand to rub at one of his nipples, circling it with his thumb. Finn’s already discovered, much to his delight, how sensitive Poe is there, and he plans to exploit that thoroughly, both now and in the future. “I was,” he admits, his eyes falling shut, those long eyelashes that Finn’s always adored stark against the curve of his cheek. “I was showing off for you, I wanted--”
He hisses as Finn’s hand tightens around his cock, his hips jerking upward restlessly, groaning out, “Oh fuck, Finn, please, come on--”
“I liked hearing you sing,” Finn murmurs, letting his hand speed up, teasing at the thick, swollen head of Poe’s cock with his thumb, every choked-off groan from Poe sending sparks down his spine. “You have...your voice is…” He looks up, and Poe looks absolutely wrecked, dark eyes glittering in his face as he bites at his lip, just barely restraining himself, and Finn finishes, completely heartfelt, “Your voice is beautiful.”
“Oh,” Poe groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he moves his hips relentlessly now, fucking into Finn’s tight fist.
Finn licks at his dry mouth and admits, “I would’ve said yes before then, of course--but after you sang like that? You could’ve asked me for anything and I would’ve said yes to you.”
That’s it then, that’s all it takes, as Poe comes in Finn’s hand with a gasp, his eyes wide and fixed on Finn’s face. Finn looks back at him the whole time, as his grip goes slick and splatters of come land on Poe’s chest.
Finn has an idea of licking it off--he imagines the reaction from Poe would be pretty spectacular--but Poe is blinking up at the ceiling, even as he’s gesturing to Finn and urging him, “Come here, lie down, if I don’t get my mouth on you soon I’ll lose my mind, I swear.”
Well, who is Finn to say no to that? And Poe’s mouth is a revelation, not just how good it feels on Finn’s aching cock, but the way he’s constantly watching Finn’s reactions, taking his time, making sure it feels good for Finn. Every time Finn had had sex with a fellow stormtrooper in his past life, it was fine, but it was so--clinical. This is everything but. It feels important that Finn is in bed with Poe, that it’s Poe taking him apart with his hands and his mouth, that it’s Poe’s dark eyes looking up at Finn as he falls apart and comes in Poe’s hot mouth.
Later on, once they’ve cleaned up and sleepily clambered into Finn’s bunk--which really isn’t big enough for two people but they’ll make do--Finn asks sleepily into the curve of Poe’s neck, “Will all my guitar lessons end like this one did?”
The room is almost pitch-black, but Finn can still hear the smile in Poe’s voice as he says, “They will if I have anything to do with it.”
“Good,” Finn says decisively, and he closes his eyes as Poe chuckles, his fingers tracing circles on Finn’s bare shoulder.
The next day, Poe’s voice has a distinct rasp to it, a hoarseness that has Finn smiling quietly to himself every time he overhears it. Later that day, as he’s going through his drills, Finn catches himself humming under his breath, the melody slow and sweet and familiar.