The sleeping arrangements on the tiny passenger ship were making things just a little bit awkward between the two men. There was only one bed. So far on their journey, they hadn't had much time to sleep, or Poe would be at the console. Now, however he was shattered, and he needed sleep. Poe didn't understand why he felt so awkward. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd been in a situation like this. It wasn't the first time he'd had to platonically share a bed with someone he had slept with. Poe got around as much as the next guy, but he was good at keeping things friendly. Poe didn't fall in love. He supposed Dara was the exception now. But even when other people were worried that it would be awkward, Poe's good nature put them right at ease. But with Finn, he could almost cut the tension with a knife. They got on really well. They laughed and joked, yet here he was awkwardly lying in bed with Finn. They tried to actively avoid eye contact, because when they looked into each other's eyes, they could scarcely stop. Poe's heart would quicken, and he would feel very warm. It seemed that neither of them wanted to address the issue of how the other made them feel. If Poe had thought that trying to fall asleep next to Finn had affected him, he was clearly not prepared for waking up next to the heavy-sleeper.
Finn's gentle snores took Poe right back to what suddenly seemed like simpler times. He had been right then, they were stolen moments. His peaceful child-like face made his insides squirm. He exhaled heavily, trying to regain some control over his racing thoughts and feelings. He wondered, oddly, if this was the face of the child that had been taken from his mother's arms? Was Finn always a heavy sleeper? Had he always looked so peaceful? What about when he was being conditioned to be a Stormtrooper? Had he slept with the face of an angel then? He felt a great pang of pain for Finn. He understood that taking Finn with him when he went to see his father may have been the first interaction of his memory of a father and son interacting. FN- whatever he had been, had never seen parenthood. Had never seen love as unconditional as that between a parent and child. He wondered what Finn's real name was. What had his birth parents called their sweet little boy? Poe suddenly felt ashamed for all the times he had taken his father for granted. For all the times he simply assumed that his father would be there when he got back, or when he needed him next. He knew that losing his mother at a young age had taught him to appreciate all that he had. But was it enough? Finn had nothing in the world. He had Rey. Poe, feeling determined, told himself that Finn would always have him. Whatever form their relationship took, Poe wouldn't abandon Finn. He felt odd, as he looked at him, realising that he had named him. He felt immensely protective of him. Even though Finn was his handsome rescuer, he felt more capable than Finn, and therefore responsible for his safety.
"I'll be your family." he whispered in great solemnity, and in the tiniest of voices. As though Finn heard him, he stirred in his slumber his arm comically smacking Poe lightly across the face.
"Way to ruin a moment, pal." Poe whispered, a wide smile on his lips. A shiver went down Poe's spine. This was a really old passenger ship. It dated back to a time before Poe was born. The heating wasn't great, and space could get pretty cold. He resigned himself to getting up. They would arrive at Jakku later that day. Poe crept out of the bed he shared with Poe and rummaged through the few articles of clothing he had brought with him, looking for the warmest things he could find. He padded silently down the very short hallway to their bathroom, and set about warming himself up by taking a shower. At least their water heaters were working very well. He felt the chill leave him as the hot water trickled down his body. He pushed his hair back out of his face. He considered that he might need to cut it. The last time he had had a haircut was just before the battle over Sallust. That had been months ago. And this beard… He grew a good beard, but it would have to go. He stepped out into the cold air and quickly set about drying himself off. Finn staggered in, yawning and wiping the sleep from his eyes. He yawned something that sounded like good morning to Poe before taking off the last of his clothes and stepping into the shower that Poe had just vacated. Poe busied himself by dressing in his warmest woollen clothes. He set about combing his fingers through his hair and staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked different. He supposed if times had been peaceful and he hadn't been in the Resistance, this might be what he would have looked like all the time. He could have been a singer, or a chef, or anything. Poe briefly wondered what his life would be like if he hadn't become a pilot. What would he have wanted to be? He supposed he had joined the Republic Navy. There had never been another option for him. He might still be there, court martialled most likely, if he hadn't defected. Best choice he'd ever made.
"What're you doing?" Finn slurred, as he yawned again. He was right behind him, pulling on a shirt that Poe had given him.
"I should cut my hair." Poe said, a note of resignation in his voice. Finn casually ran his fingers through Poe's wet locks.
"Nah man. It suits you." Poe looked into Finn's eyes through the mirror. He could see him nervously biting his lip. #
"The beard too?"
"Yeah." Finn turned his back, and walked in the opposite direction, back out into the rest of the ship. Poe looked back at his reflection again. When had he gotten so old? There were lines around his eyes that he hadn't noticed before. There were a couple of silver hairs at his temples. Finn had looked so young next to him. A sadness came over him. He was much too old for any of them. He had been born before the battle of Endor. Poe had never felt his age before, but he was certainly staring it in the face right now. He was still handsome though. He supposed he would eventually have to take on the mantle of handsome older man. His mind suddenly settled on the alarming truth that his father had lain at his feet. His mother's beloved tree may have changed him. He might have been force sensitive. It was such a bizarre notion, but his father had never lied to him. He looked at his toothbrush with big eyes for a moment. He flicked his hand out and willed the toothbrush to move into his hand. He nearly burst a blood vessel concentrating on this task. He felt relieved when the toothbrush stayed motionless. He turned his back on the thing, and left the room. His father had been wrong. Poe was fine. He heard something falling into the sink in the bathroom, but he didn't register what it was. He instead met BB-8 in the corridor and had a chat with the droid, making his way to the console, a new bounce in his step. He didn't have the force, he thought. He was normal.