Inspired by Seeing Blind by thestarwar.
This fic's inspired by an r/relationships post about a younger straight guy meeting an older, attractive gay guy at the gym. Sooner or later, they're spending all their free time together & totally falling for each other.
Character dynamics are heavily influenced/inspired by thestarwar's sweet and gorgeous Stormpilot fic linked above. And lastly, the title's taken from Caleb Lovely's song, Hot Minute.
If anyone asks him later, he'll say that it's all Rey's fault.
It's an absolute shit day outside and he'd so much rather stay curled up in bed doing absolutely fuck all. The sky is low and dark with cloud cover and cold rain splatters against the bedside windows, the sound of it enough to nearly lull him back to sleep. Staying in bed watching random stuff on Hulu and ignoring all his undergrad homework sounds like a fabulous idea, really.
He considers it a moment, sorely tempted. But then Finn remembers his promise to Rey - adorable, way-too-serious, and vaguely terrifying Rey - about being her gym buddy every Saturday.
And there's no getting around it because she's got this sixth-sense for bullshit that prevents him from spinning a believable lie. So he groans and gets to it, dragging himself up out of bed and trudging to the bathroom for a shower.
The gym's relatively quiet when he arrives a good half hour later, clean, dressed, and fairly caffeinated with yes, a pumpkin spice latte in hand. He thinks he's allowed to be basic in this one aspect of his life, thank you very much. Rey's nowhere to be found when he walks into the lobby, but the guy behind the counter smiles and waves him on upstairs anyway.
Finn heads that way and sends her a quick text as he goes, sure she'll be here soon. He figures she's just grabbing breakfast for their post-workout munchies: a dozen bagels, cream cheese, and some nasty ass sweet tea that she insists doesn't taste like flowers even though it totally does. The thought's making him hungry, except for the tea anyway. That's still nasty.
Last week, Rey had declared this Saturday was leg day. How he hates leg day.
But with most of his usual go-tos for equipment taken, Finn's left with few options. And he can't even stall for time now that he's finished his latte. He sighs and pops in his earbuds, puts an absolute fire playlist on shuffle, and hops on the treadmill.
His gym buddy never shows. And she sends a selfie of her snacking on one of those damned bagels too, which is just fucking rude.
She's sporting an awfully wide smile for someone who's claimed mornings were created by Satan. And the chocolate-chip bagel in her hand's absolutely smothered in cream cheese. Dammit, Rey.
He makes a pitiful noise at the back of his throat just looking at it. He really needs to learn to eat before going to the gym.
Someone chooses that premise moment to clap him on the shoulder to get his attention. Please dear Lord, don't have let them heard that.
He pauses his music, takes out an earbud, and turns towards them.
"Hey, man, would you mind spotting me?" An older guy asks. He looks like he could be on the cover of fucking Sports Illustrated or something - all muscle and olive skin tone, dark eyes, messy curls and a sharp, stubbled jawline.
Finn has no idea why the dude's here when he looks absolutely ripped already.
But hey, who is he to judge? A five-foot-seven total pixie of a girl convinced him to get a gym membership with her after they'd talked in class like three times.
"Sure thing bro, lead the way."
Sports Illustrated walks over to the bench press and Finn follows close behind. He watches as the guy does a couple of warm-up reps first, nothing special. Then he notices the tattoo. It stretches up damn near half the guy's right arm, depicting a lush forest scene that's half-hidden in a shroud of fog.
"Woah, that's some sick ink, man! The detail is incredible."
Sports Illustrated looks up at him from the bench press with a smile. "Yeah?"
"Yeah, it looks awesome." Finn says, standing just behind him.
Then, around a laugh, "I'm sure you already knew that though, your tattoo and all." And he has to wonder if he always sounds this bloody ridiculous when he's talking to Rey during her workout sessions. Jesus, he hopes not.
"Hey, it's no problem. I'm Poe, by the way." The smile's back, lazy and warm. It dispels some of his anxiety about being a total garbage fire of a human being. "Poe Dameron."
"Finn Skywalker." He says in kind. And then just to make conversation, adds, "My friend from school usually drags me in here, but it looks like she skipped out on me today."
"Well, lucky me then. I could use a spotter." Poe winks at him.
The muscles in his arm seem to ripple when he lifts another rep and Finn's momentarily transfixed by the sight.
"Lucky you, I'm not absolute shit at it." Finn jokes, shaking his head to clear it. The gym's quiet around them, with people scattered about on various machines and talking amongst themselves over the drum of the rain. Outside, the storm hasn't let up an inch. And Rey's still nowhere to be seen, the traitor. As punishment, he decides he isn't bringing her morning coffee to class on Monday.
The guys fall into a comfortable silence for a bit, with Poe doing several more reps and Finn helping him out here and there. Making sure his form's okay, or watching in case he needs a hand.
They end up talking about Poe's tattoo a little more, like where he got it and why.
"…so I figured I'd get that, y'know? It meant a lot to my mom, and I wanted to honor her memory that way. Seemed like a good thing to do. Then I walked into the shop and boom! There it was." He gestures to the half-sleeve design.
Finn raises an eyebrow, curious. "So what happened to the original idea then?"
"Oh don't you worry, I found a way to incorporate it into the design too. Here, I'll show you." Poe says as he sets the bar back down. Finn's about to protest that no, it's cool, he isn't done lifting yet. But it's too late. Poe's already pushing himself off the bench press and walking over to him.
"See? Right here." He points to the cluster of stars inked in the sky on his bicep, just above the forest. Finn wracks his brain to try and remember the name of the constellation because he knows he's seen it before. But he can't concentrate with Poe standing so close, gaze intent on his own.
"Oh, that's sick. What's it called again? Sorry, been a long time since I took astronomy. It's not Orion, is it?" He doesn't think so.
Poe smiles and claps him on the back, assuring him, "Hey, it's no worries. Most people don't bother taking it at all."
And then as Finn leads them over to the treadmills, Poe finishes, "Nah, it's Andromeda actually. There's a galaxy named after her too, hidden right in the constellation. How cool is that?"
"You're kind of a space nerd, aren't you? Bet you've got every word of Stars Wars memorized too." Finn says as kind of a joke, not really expecting it to be true.
"What if I was, eh?" Poe asks, laughter in his voice as he shoulder checks Finn. "You're the geek who took astronomy, buddy."
"Dunno that I could bear to be seen with you, to be honest. Like geez, d'you know how old those movies are?" He quips back with the same amused, teasing note in his voice. "And my dad's an astronomy professor, it runs in my blood."
"Hey. Hey. Those movies are classics, young man." Poe jabs a finger in Finn's direction. "And ya can't diss the classics."
"Oh? Fine, I'll just diss you instead then." Finn says with a wicked grin as the two of them break out into a jog on their machines.
The sound of Poe's laugh fills the room, warm and full. The majority of the gym-goers around them are sorely not amused, and a handful of people actually glare at them.
"Walked right into that one, didn't I?"
"Yeahhh, kinda."
They talk for another hour, long after Finn had promised himself he'd leave to go grab lunch with Rey. Lunchtime comes and goes and he pays it no mind. Conversation flows from one thing to the next like he and Poe have known each other for months, years. It's easy, fun, and he enjoys the company even though Poe's easily several years older than him.
He learns Poe's a bit of a military brat, raised in an Air Force family before he joined the ranks himself at nineteen years old. Stayed in the force for almost a decade. Which makes sense, given…well, just about everything about the guy. What's more surprising is that as a single dad, he's somehow managing to get both of his pre-teen daughters through the weird, chaotic fever dream that is middle school without totally losing his mind. And he runs a bookstore, which Finn doesn't quite catch the name of before a phone call interrupts the conversation.
"Hey pumpkin, what's up?" If possible, Poe's smile gets even wider when he's talking to one of his kids. "Did you and Shara just get back from walking BB-8? You all remembered a raincoat, didn't you?"
There's a soft look on his face as he listens intently to his daughter's reply. Whatever she says makes him laugh.
Then he winks at Finn and excuses himself to continue the call, walking backwards and mouthing see you around? as he goes.
Finn gives him a two-fingered salute, smiles, and mouths, Yeah, Star Wars, see you around, before he heads downstairs and walks outside into the rain.
"Wait, he winked at you?" Rey asks from across from him, half disbelief and half amusement as she bites into her bagel.
When he'd gotten to the cafe and hunkered both at their usual booth, she was already there. Curled up and comfy with her bare feet tucked beneath her, ballet flats kicked off under the table. She'd been scrolling through Instagram when he'd arrived, forgotten coursework and a plate of food abandoned in front of her.
"Yeah, once when he'd been lifting and then again before he'd left." Finn can't quite decipher the look she's giving him. She's smiling like she knows something he doesn't. "What? Is that bad?"
Finn had lived kind of a…sheltered life before Luke Skywalker adopted him. Though that's not what Luke calls it - he says the Johnsons were fucking batshit and probably part of a cult.
In any case, the pair of them had yanked Finn out of school after he'd come home talking about evolution in sixth or seventh grade, amazed by the whole thing. They'd homeschooled him for years afterward, said that public school was evil, immoral and wrong.
So he'd basically learned to socialize alright up until around middle school before the Johnsons cut him off from hanging around other kids his age. Had murmured something about temptation and sin and being unclean, whatever the fuck that'd meant. And all these years later, in little moments like these, he just feels like he's missing something.
Rey gives his hand a squeeze from across the table, expression terribly sad before it softens again. Like she knows where his head was without him having to say a thing. "It's okay, Finn, 's not bad. A wink can have tons of meanings, but sometimes…"
"Sometimes?" Finn echoes, raising an eyebrow at her to continue. And then, prompting and amused, "Oh great Jedi master, do enlighten me on the Force of winking and the great and terrible power it wields."
The awful sadness gone now, Rey smiles and says in a sage voice, "Sometimes, my young student, winking at someone means you're flirting with them, or that you're teasing them about something."
She takes a sip of her tea and then clarifies in a normal tone, "But it all depends on context, see."
Finn leans back in the booth and, taking her definition in stride, volunteers, "Oh, so it'd mean different things if you winked at me versus if you winked at Rose?"
Rey splutters around her drink, flushing and caught off guard. "How did- how did you…"
It's the student's turn to smile at the master now. Groaning, Rey gives a dismissive wave of her hand and mutters, "Nevermind, I don't want to know. But yes, that'd be- that's a good way to look at it."
But Finn still doesn't quite know what to do with this information. "Okay, so maybe he thinks I'm attractive then."
"And d'you think he is?" Rey asks, studying him with her chin in her hand.
"I don't know. Maybe?" For a guy who's like ninety-five percent sure he's completely straight, this whole thing isn't quite the major existential crisis he thought it'd be. It's just confusing. "But what do I…what am I supposed to do back?"
Rey twirls a pen between the fingers of her other hand, attention divided between him and her engineering homework. The British lilt in her voice's soft and comforting when she meets his gaze and says, "Honey, you can do whatever you want. Wink back at him or don't, but it's your choice."
"Does it…does it change anything?" He isn't sure, and he still isn't…he still isn't used to having a choice after the Johnsons and it's so frustrating.
"D'you want it to?" Rey asks, and there's no judgement there. He doesn't answer, because he doesn't know and that frustrates him too.
Out in the parking lot, Finn tries reassuring her like twelve times that he's perfectly fine grabbing an Uber home or even walking the rest of the way. And it is totally fine, really. He's not trying to guilt her into a ride or something, he'd never do that.
But Rey just laughs like he's being ridiculous and says, "Oh my God, Finn, could you just get in the truck?"
He climbs into the Trans-Am and shuts the door behind him, blowing warm air into his hands to try and ward away the chill from the rain. Rey cranks the heat up as they pull out onto the main road.
It's quiet between them for a few minutes, comfortable, muffled sounds of traffic and the drum of the rain on the windshield filling the silence. Then Rey fiddles around with something on the dashboard at the next set of lights before handing him the auxiliary cord and asks, "Make use of that, will you?"
Finn has just the thing in mind. Grinning, he scrolls through his music library until he finds the playlist he's looking for. He pushes shuffle play and Rey laughs at the familiar melody that flows through the speakers.
"Holy shit, I haven't heard this song in years!" She says around a laugh as the light turns green and they barrel on through the intersection.
The guitar still sounds the way sunlight looks as it filters through the clouds, and Finn's absolutely shameless as he sings along to the opening verse.
"I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined…"
Rey sings the next bit without an ounce of prompting, "I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned."
"Staring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window, let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find…" Finn pantomimes opening a window as he sings along.
"Reaching for something in the distance, so close you can almost taste it…" Rey does the same, dramatically reaching out a hand with the one that isn't on the steering wheel.
Both of them are dancing along by the time they get to the next set of lights, totally into their Grammy-level performance and not giving a damn who looks. And people are definitely looking, but Finn gives whoever's in the car beside them no mind.
He and Rey take turns sharing an imaginary microphone through the rest of the song, thoroughly enjoying themselves as they make the short drive across town.
"Damn, we're good," Finn says once the song's ended.
"Oh, the best." Rey agrees, a smile in her voice as she pulls up to the house. Of course, they're not serious - they probably sounded absolutely horrible. Finn was definitely out of tune a couple of times there, but it doesn't matter because he's happy.
He doesn't think he could get any happier until Rey leans over the center console and kisses his cheek. She's hesitant to touch anyone, like ever, so he considers it a total win. "Text me when you get inside, yeah?"
"Yeah, sure thing." Finn returns the auxiliary cord and pockets his phone before he gets out of the Trans-Am. "Hey, Rey?"
"Mm?"
"Thanks." Whereas other people might ask what for, Rey just gives him a soft smile and says, "Anytime, Finn."
They both know it isn't for the sing-along.
Changed the last scene there because I did promise this was slow burn, so. Have Finn and Rey jamming out to some Natasha Bedingfield instead. I promise it becomes relevant later.
Update 05/02: Looking for a beta reader for subsequent chapters, so pls pls pls let me know if you'd be interested!