Poe’s wandering down to the mess for a late snack when he hears laughter coming from the room. A bunch of tables have been pushed back, clearing space for a circle of chairs in the middle. A number of his squadmates are sitting in them, along with Finn and Rey. There’s a bottle in the middle of the floor. Jess bends down to spin it, and it must point at Nien, because she plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Finn is next up, and Poe watches him staring at the bottle.
If Poe were a sensible man, he would grab what he came for and go back to his room, virtuous and lonely. He even considers doing so, for a little bit. But Finn twirls the bottle, and it stops to point at Rey. He leans his head in for a kiss, probably intending it to be chaste, polite. Rey grabs him by the lapels of his (Poe’s) jacket and plants one on him firmly, to the accompaniment of cheers and whoops from the pilots. Poe even thinks to himself that right now would be a wise time to turn around. But then Rey breaks off the kiss, and she smiles. It’s pleased, of course; but also confident, assured: the way a hunter does when it knows it has a catch in the bag. He walks over and grabs a beer. In for a credit, in for the whole pot, right?
The whole circle roars a greeting when they see him, and he finds himself slapped on the back, side-hugged. Rey and Finn smile when he takes a seat, and Poe tries to ignore the memory of their kiss, the way it sets off a curl of heat in his belly.
“Will the Commander be participating in the festivities tonight?” Iolo asks, getting ready to spin.
“I think I’ll just watch.” He replies. That’s probably safest. Nothing terrible will happen if he doesn’t participate, he’s pretty sure.
Iolo grins and slaps the bottle hard. “You heard him, put on a good show tonight!” Poe downs the rest of his beer and grabs another. He is nowhere near drunk enough for this.
Everybody seems to have taken Iolo’s words to heart, because the kisses take on a ridiculously flamboyant quality, exaggerated for maximum effect. (He’s not sure he ever wanted to know that Nien could use tongue like that, or that Snap seemed to like it. A lot.) It also doesn’t escape his notice that Finn or Rey are the recipients, more often than chance would seem to dictate. He has no idea why he expected either of them to be shy or awkward about this sort of thing, but they most definitely aren’t. Finn throws himself into the kisses with the same enthusiasm and verve he shows for everything, to the point where he leaves Iolo slightly dazed, blinking those not-human eyes of his. Rey approaches them like a fight she expects to win, although the way she flushes when Karé kisses her makes him think she still has a lot to figure out.
It’s Rey’s turn, and the bottle points directly at him. It hasn’t done that all night. There’s a slow thoughtful smile on her face, like she’s considering how to approach. Poe thinks about reiterating his intent to not participate, but the words won’t come out.
Rey walks up to him. “Do you want this?” She asks quietly. Oh Force, he does, so much. He nods, because he doesn’t trust himself to speak. She takes his face in her hands and kisses him, softly but with intent. He must have parted his lips at some point, because he can feel them sharing breath, her mouth over his. After what seems like no time and also forever, she moves away, and he makes a noise that he knows the rest of the pilots will never let him forget. (He’ll care tomorrow, and probably for the rest of his life. But not right now.) Now her smile is satisfied, like a pittin that found the cream and got exactly what it wanted. He glances over at Finn, still staring at them like he’s never seen anything he’s wanted more in his life. And there’s that flare of heat, making itself known again.
Snap looks at the chrono on his wrist. “I think we’d better get going, everybody. We’re all going to be short on sleep as is.” This leads to a cascade of other wrist glances and some low cursing from people who have early scramble times, and suddenly the mess is empty except for him.
He walks outside the main building, the night air cool on his face. The moons are bright tonight, enough that he has no trouble seeing. He rounds a corner and hears a quiet laugh, then another. Finn has Rey against the wall, or she’s holding him against her while she leans, Poe’s not sure which. In any case, they’re kissing, the way people do when they think nobody’s looking: without pretense, completely lost in each other. It’s gorgeous, and it surprises him how much he wants to be a part of it.
He coughs politely, and they stop. Neither of them look surprised or flustered, and it makes him want to laugh, how easily he’s been played. Finn tugs him over, close enough that he can smell leather and engine oil.
“The bottle never landed on you.” He shoots a look over at Rey, who shrugs. “I wanted it to though. If you’re willing, that is?” Poe nods again, and he finds himself pushed against the wall, kissed thoroughly, methodically. Finn’s hands are in his hair and he tugs experimentally. Poe, to his great embarrassment, whimpers at it, clutching at Finn like his legs won’t support him. He can feel Finn’s smile against his skin, the satisfied huff of breath at getting a reaction.
“That all right?” Finn asks. Now Poe does laugh, delighted by this new and beautiful thing he now seems to have.
“Buddy, that was way more than all right. In fact, I think I’d call it pretty great.” Finn positively beams, taking Poe’s hand in his. Rey grabs his other one.
“Can we go inside? It’s getting cold.” She gives him a sidelong glance. “I’ll let you figure out creative ways to warm me up.”
“What are we waiting for then?” He says. Rey laughs, Finn starts walking, and he lets himself be pulled along with them.