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The resistance base is a flurry of activity, everyone busy preparing for the assault against the First Order. Outside the room he and Poe are in, Finn can hear the muffled sounds of brisk footsteps, people shouting out requests and orders, the air thick with tension. Finn’s stomach is tied in knots - it feels like the churning in his belly hasn’t stopped since Jakku, since he froze in that village, screaming and fire and fear all around him.

He just lied to Han Solo. The Han Solo. He has no idea how to disable the Starkiller Base’s shields, and he’s terrified by what that means, but it’s all drowned out by the need to get to Rey, to save her.

“You okay?” Poe asks. He’s looking at Finn like he understands him, like they’re old friends. It feels like they’re old friends, even if they barely know each other.

Poe’s pretty much the first friend Finn ever made.

“I thought you were dead,” Finn says, and he shakes his head, that still palpable relief making him smile. The expression feels shaky on his face.

Poe gives him a lopsided grin. “Yeah, right back at you. But we’re both fine.” His hand falls on Finn’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly. “I won’t go down that easy.”

Finn snorts out a laugh. “I was part of that crash, and there was nothing ‘easy’ about it.”

Poe’s grin gets wider, and it both makes Finn feel better and worse, that churning in his gut getting more violent than ever.

“I thought you were dead,” he repeats, but this time it comes out hoarse and quiet, and it’s like all the heat in the room has vanished and Finn’s suddenly freezing.

Poe’s in his space immediately, pressing close, hand sliding from Finn’s shoulder to cup the side of his neck. His eyes are wide and concerned, his thumb brushing Finn’s jaw. “I’m okay,” he promises softly. “We’re gonna be okay.”

The way he says it, it makes Finn believe him, and he’s leaning forward before he really registers he’s doing it.

It’s not Finn’s first kiss or anything like that, but it’s the first one that feels real, and Poe makes a surprised sound against his lips.

Finn’s mouth tingles a little when he pulls back, like it’s the only part of him that feels warm.

Poe’s gaze flickers across Finn’s face, then cuts to the closed door. “This is a bad idea,” he mutters, but he’s smiling as he says it, and then he’s pulling Finn back in by the collar of the leather jacket Finn took from the crashed TIE Fighter, Poe’s jacket that Finn’s been wearing like a security blanket since Jakku.

This kiss is firmer, greedier, and heat starts flooding back into Finn’s body so suddenly it leaves him breathless.

Finn fumbles at Poe’s hips, hands feeling clumsy and awkward, as Poe’s tongue curls against his own. Poe angles the kiss, makes it deeper, urging Finn backwards slowly until his back is pressing into the wall. Finn feels surrounded, Poe’s body pushing against him, the wall solid behind him, and there’s a weird sense of safety to it, the knots in his stomach finally loosening.

Poe’s flight suit is open to the waist, and Finn pulls at it, fingers curling in the material of the vest Poe’s wearing beneath it. Trying to push it up Poe’s stomach, because the need to feel skin is shockingly urgent, and Poe smiles against Finn’s mouth.

“Good thinking,” Poe murmurs, shrugging the suit off his shoulders, and Finn yanks at it in a way that could be helping or making everything take longer, he honestly can’t tell. But then he gets the sight of Poe’s arms, the strong curves of his biceps, and the fabric is still tangled around Poe’s wrists when Finn hauls him into another kiss.

It feels like his body is short-circuiting, going from cold to so hot he’s sweating, every touch heightened and electrified.

As soon as Poe’s arms are free of the flight suit, they’re wrapping around Finn, tight and strong. He can feel how hard Poe’s growing against him, the length of him pressing along Finn’s hip, and Finn’s not faring any better, his cock heavy and uncomfortable inside in his pants.

His hand slips down, palming Poe’s ass, and Poe breaks back to gasp in a short breath, pupils blown and face flushed.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Poe reminds him, and Finn nods even though the bustle beyond the door is pretty damn far from the centre of his thoughts right now. The smile Poe gives him is wolfish, and his hand cups Finn’s crotch, the heel of his palm rubbing hard enough to make Finn’s head thud back against the wall. “Better make this quick.”

Finn swallows, blinking rapidly as fireworks spark behind his eyes. “I don’t think ‘quick’ is gonna be a problem.”

He kind of likes the way it feels when Poe laughs against his mouth, the way it vibrates all the way down into him.

Poe’s fingers work at Finn’s fly, so it seems only fair that Finn return the favour. The upper half of the flight suit is bunched around Poe’s waist, but Finn shoves it down lower, his own pants being pushed down his thighs at the same time. They’re both a little too fast, a little too eager when they drag each other’s underwear down over their hips, and Finn’s cock slaps up against his stomach, a spatter of precome painting his skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” Poe mumbles absently, as if Finn is actually complaining. His shirt is pulled up beneath the leather jacket, his pants are caught around his knees, and his mouth is literally watering at the sight of Poe looking equally exposed, his cock flushed dark and wet at the tip.

Poe opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but he seems to get distracted, just looking at Finn, staring at him, eyes raking over Finn’s body.

“I thought we were hurrying?” Finn says, more out of anxiousness to get Poe pressed back against him than anything else, but it gets Poe snapping back to attention. He kisses Finn again, slower this time, sweeter, and Finn gets a hand on Poe’s ass, pulls him close.

Poe rocks against him, their cocks sliding together, and Finn makes a noise that’s distressingly loud. His pants are thick, the flight suit thicker, and now with them gone, the heat of it, skin on skin, is incredible. Poe breaks the kiss to run his tongue along the palm of his hand, perfunctory and ridiculously erotic, and Finn’s whole body feels like it’s burning from the inside out.

Poe gets a hand between them, wraps it around them both; Finn’s hips snap forward, fucking into the ring of Poe’s fingers, the lines of his palm.

“God, ‘quick’ really isn’t gonna be a problem,” Poe rasps, his whole body undulating. They’re not really kissing anymore, just panting against each other’s mouths, humid gulps of air. Finn can feel every twitch of Poe’s cock, can feel the bead of moisture sliding along the head of his own dick before rolling down over Poe’s fingers.

Finn’s hand squeezes at Poe’s ass, probably harder than he should, but Poe just moans for it, his whole body bucking forward. His mouth slides over Finn’s cheek before his head falls forward, face buried against Finn’s collar. “Fuck, the jacket even smells like you now,” he hisses appreciatively, nosing at the leather, his wrist moving, hand stroking over their cocks.

Finn’s heart stutters, eyes falling closed. The idea of that, of the jacket smelling like them both, makes his cock pulse, muscles in his thighs cording with tension, whole body feeling like a wire, stretching out and ready to break.

Poe’s mouth opens against his neck, teeth digging in sharp and sudden, not hard enough to hurt but it’s still hard enough to make Finn light up, to make him seize up and let go. Coming in a rush of moisture and pleasure that makes his head spin, feeling the slide of Poe’s hand get messier as he strokes Finn through it.

His lips are against Finn’s skin the whole time, sucking heat up under the surface, until the flesh is tender and raw in a way that makes Finn’s eyes roll back, a final feeble trickle of come milked out of him and leaving him shaking.

Finn almost whimpers when Poe draws back, but he forces his eyes open and gets rewarded with the sight of Poe stroking himself roughly, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. His free hand braces against the wall beside Finn’s head, and he looks so lost in it, so wantonly beautiful.

Finn’s fingers wrap around the back of Poe’s hand, pushing the pace harder, and it only takes a few pumps from their joined hands before Poe’s coming all over himself, stomach sticky and glistening.

It takes a long time before Finn can remember how to breathe normally, and it doesn’t help that Poe licks at his own fingers, eyes glinting for the way it makes Finn groan and claw at his hip.

Poe reaches up, thumb pressing down against the warm spot his mouth left where Finn’s neck joins his shoulder. It feels like a bruise; Finn’s achingly aware of it.

“Something to remember me by, besides the jacket,” Poe smiles. “A reminder that we’re okay, that we’ll see each other again.”

Finn’s eyes flutter shut again, glad he’s got the wall to hold himself up, because his legs aren’t up to the task, the skin at his neck throbbing under Poe’s touch.

He’s already on the Millennium Falcon by the time he realises the mark is in just the right place that the collar of the jacket drags across it every time he turns his head. He can’t see Poe’s ship from the cockpit, but Finn’s pretty sure that wherever Poe is, he’s smirking with pride.