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Finn, Poe often thinks to himself, has a dynamite body. This thought emerges, unbidden, when Poe is engaged in menial tasks (for which BB-8 upbraids him within an inch of his life) and sometimes when he is engaged in not-so-menial tasks (for which BB-8 has the droid equivalent of paroxysms, bumping violently against Poe's shins, beeping and whizzing and tossing about expletives like they're candy). Granted, Poe has never allowed these flights of fancy to put himself or anyone else in danger, nor will he ever, but he does have to admit BB-8's outbursts are justified occasionally.
...Most of the time.
He can't even get mad about them, either - they keep him on task, keep his brain from sticking on something it probably shouldn't (one of many things; there's a lot about Finn that warrants daydreams, up to and including his entire self). Finn is so much more than just the parts that make him up, and Poe feels ridiculously shallow when he hones in on a few of them - like his knees (who looks at knees?) and his thighs and his strong, strong hands splayed all over Poe's - his brain is particularly prone to stick there, and he has to take measures to move it along (cold showers, his old friends).
Out of all the relationships he's ever been in, this one is different. This one matters more than the rest, and not merely in retrospect, in hindsight. He's been in love before, he's had his heart broken and has broken a heart or two himself, but nothing in his past compares to this.
He's never been utterly and completely consumed before, like he can take and take and take and still not have enough. Moth, flame, the tired cliche.
He won't have enough.
__
They're in a crowded, smoky cantina, the lights are dimmed, the music is loud, the atmosphere jocular. Five of them stuffed into a booth in the far corner - Ello, Jess, Snap, Poe and Finn. They've just finished their fourth round of shots. None of them feels a bit of pain. They're all laughing at something Snap said; Poe has tears running down his face, Finn is leaning heavily against his side, as if Poe is the only thing holding him up. Next to them, Jess snorts loudly, which sends them into hysterics yet again.
"Lady! We've got a classy lady in the house!" Ello whoops, then winces when Jess kicks him under the table. "Ouch? Ow." He looks to Snap for backup, but Snap is too busy signalling the waitress for another round. "Mean person," he sniffs.
Jess rolls her eyes in dismissal, and instead focuses her attention on Poe. "You," she says, around a dainty sip of water, "are pathetic, by the way."
After a beat of silence, Finn stage whispers, "She got you." He goes to slug Poe on the shoulder and almost misses his mark, leading to more laughter.
"I am," Poe agrees. By this point, the waitress has returned with fresh glasses, and Snap passes them around. Poe holds his up in a toast. "I'm the most pathetic pilot in the Resistance."
Snap, who handles his liquor better than anybody present, cocks an eyebrow and holds Poe's gaze for a long moment, though he raises a glass eventually. "To the most pathetic pilot in the Resistance," he says heartily.
"The most pathetic pilot in the Resistance!" the others echo, tossing back their drinks.
"Wait, why is he pathetic, again?" Finn says, blinking owlishly. His cheek rests in the palm of his hand, and he smiles a lopsided smile. "I missed the joke. I think."
Jess mirrors Finn, but she supports her chin in both of her hands, and she wears a Cheshire grin, all teeth. Poe is suddenly afraid to hear her answer, though not afraid enough to stop her. Or maybe that's just the alcohol. "You."
Ah.
"Me, what?" Finn manages to look perplexed, and Poe wants nothing more than to kiss the daylights out of him. He buries his face in the crook of Finn's neck, and Jess throws her hands in the air.
"That." She motions in their general direction, her face screwed up. "Stars, you are both disgusting." There's no venom in her voice when she says this, however. "Get away from me." She puts her face down on the table. Ello reaches out to pat her on top of her head, and she bats his hands away without lifting her head. "Let me sulk in peace."
Snap chuckles at her antics, though he wisely keeps his mouth shut. Ello leans over and mutters something in Snap's ear, and he lets out a guffaw, at which point Jess's head jerks up and she levels a glare at them both that could melt butter. Poe is happy to ignore all three of them, and sighs contentedly, until Finn whips out his terrible stage whisper once again.
"Oh. Oh, I get it. She's jealous. She is so totally jealous - "
Much, much later on, when they're weaving their drunken way to Finn's room, Finn favoring his right leg (the savage kick Jess let fly at him was far worse than the one she leveled at Ello), Poe tightens his grip on Finn's middle and gives him a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "I love you. Soooooooo much. So much?" He pauses. "You're my favorite person. And I know lots of people, Finn. I know lots of people. But you're my favorite of them all." He smiles, proud of himself.
What he does not expect is for Finn to stop, take his face between his hands, and kiss him long and sweetly. Poe is lightheaded when Finn lets him go. "Thank you." Their foreheads touch. "You're mine, too. My faaaaaaavorite."
Stars, Poe loves him. He moves to kiss him again, and trips over his own two feet. His lips skid against Finn's collarbone, and he laughs so hard he nearly collapses. Finn isn't in much better shape, particularly with a bum leg. He has to support himself with one hand on the nearby wall. "We need to go to bed," Poe says, once he regains control.
"Bed," Finn says.
"Bed." Poe nods.
"Bed." Finn waggles his eyebrows.
Oh no.
"Bed."
They won't be sleeping for a while.
__
Even when Finn has those hands on him, touching him places he never knew he'd crave to be touched, it isn't enough. Poe always wants more. But that's all right. That's the way it should be. That's the way he hopes it will remain, for however long they have.
Even if it drives BB-8 absolutely bananas.