Work Text:
Stormtroopers are not, contrary to the Resistance’s beliefs, kept in complete ignorance of gender and alignment. They are given instruction, instead, on how to keep their alignments from interfering with their duties. In the uncivilized, disordered parts of the galaxy which the First Order does not control, they are taught, alignments are allowed to rule interactions between people; but all Stormtroopers are Stormtroopers first, last, and everything in between. There is no room in the First Order for such foolishness as alignments to interfere with the great reinstatement of order to the galaxy.
So omega Stormtroopers report to medical every three months for suppressants, and beta Stormtroopers shrug and go on with their lives, and alpha Stormtroopers learn to control their instincts, to take orders from anyone who is authorized to give them, to pay no attention to the occasional appealing smells of their omega counterparts.
FN-2187 is a very good Stormtrooper, in everything but his unfortunate tendency towards empathy, and so it is in this as well. He is an alpha, he knows - gender and alignment are part of the basic personal data every ‘trooper memorizes about themself, as much a part of his designation as his number is - but that means very little to him, honestly. It is the duty of a Stormtrooper to obey orders, to be disciplined, to fit perfectly into place among thousands of other Stormtroopers just like him or herself, and so FN-2187 does so.
He does notice that the Resistance pilot smells good, omega-sweet, despite the reek of fear and blood, but that’s irrelevant information, to be filed away in case it is useful later but not heeded otherwise.
And when he loses the Resistance pilot - Poe, Poe Dameron, who named him - it is wrenching, somehow even worse than losing Slip, but -
But there’s a desert to get out of, and the newly-named Finn doesn’t really have time to wonder why Poe Dameron matters so very much on an instinctual level, nor why his lost jacket smells so very soothing despite the blood and oil all over it.
*
Poe is used to getting a lot of crap from people about his chosen career. And yeah, a lot of omegas are perfectly happy to be houseomegas, caring for their children and not working outside the home, and Poe’s not knocking that as a life choice - it’s hard work, he knows, from the few times he’s babysat, children are hard to raise, and he has nothing but respect for the omegas who choose that path - but he’s never wanted that. Or, well, perhaps someday he’d like kids, yeah, but not until the First Order is defeated and the galaxy is a safer place to raise those kids, you know?
But he’s used to people giving him crap, is the point, and when the Stormtrooper on the Finalizer pulls of his helmet and Poe gets an initial blast of pure, strong alpha, Poe braces himself for the Stormtrooper to be an asshole just like all the others Poe has had to deal with over the years.
Only he isn’t. He’s...sweet, is the best term Poe can come up with. Enthusiastic, and scared out of his mind - which is completely fair, kidnapping a valuable prisoner and then escaping via TIE fighter is an insane plan, Poe is delighted by its sheer ballsy insanity - and undeniably, incredibly sweet. He doesn’t once question Poe’s skills or courage, he does what Poe tells him to without any hesitation whatsoever. Admittedly he’s relying on Poe’s skills to get them both out, but that hasn’t stopped alphas from being kriffing assholes before, in Poe’s experience, and he’s sort of pleased that this one is so very polite about...well, everything.
Also he’s hot as hell. Poe is perfectly willing to admit that.
Which makes losing the sweet, newly-named alpha Stormtrooper on Jakku hurt even more.
*
Finn thinks Rey may be the most impressive, terrifying, awe-inspiring person he’s ever met. She’s wonderful. She’s an alpha, his nose informs him, but she’s also smart and deadly and loyal and crazy brave, which is far more important as far as Finn is concerned. Their stunt with the Millennium Falcon and the Star Destroyer may actually be the single coolest thing Finn has ever been part of, and he is just...in awe.
And then there’s the whole...mess...with Maz’s Cantina and Finn trying so damn hard to get away from the First Order and the First Order showing up anyway, kriff it, and then Rey - delightful, wonderful Rey - is being carried off by Kylo Ren, the horror that even Stormtroopers whisper about in fear, and Finn would burn the world to get her back.
But even in the middle of his fear for Rey, his anger and determination, Finn is so incredibly glad to find that somehow, miraculously, Poe Dameron is alive. It’s - it’s something Finn didn’t even know to hope for. And if hugging Poe is one of the best feelings in the whole galaxy, which it is, then having Poe look at him with admiration, hearing actual praise in Poe’s words, is somehow better yet. Something deep down and instinctual in Finn sings a chorus of joy that Poe Dameron thinks that Finn is a good man.
*
Poe is honestly not expecting to see either BB-8 or Finn again, and to have them both arrive at D’Qar base - more, to have Finn be the one responsible for bringing BB-8 home - well, it’s a thrill, Poe’s not going to lie. And maybe hugging Finn was a bad idea, but Finn doesn’t try to prolong the hug, doesn’t suggest that now Poe owes him one and should pay up - or, at least, not in the coin Poe has come to expect alphas to desire payment for services rendered. No, all Finn wants is the opportunity to go rescue his friend from the First Order. How is the man even real?
If they all live through this, maybe Poe will have the opportunity to get to know Finn a little better. Poe makes a mental note: after all, the worst that could happen would be discovering Finn isn’t as perfect as he seems, and, well, Poe’s kind of gotten used to that over the years.
*
Actually, the worst that could happen would be Finn coming back with a lightsaber wound in his back that’s only millimeters from being fatal. That’s the actual worst. Poe should really stop trying to make predictions.
*
When Finn wakes up, two nerve-wracking weeks after the destruction of Starkiller, Poe is waiting by his bed. It seems the least he can do for the man who saved all their lives. Finn beams up at him, bleary from the drugs, and says, “Did we win?”
“Yeah, buddy,” Poe says, “we won. Rey is off fetching Luke Skywalker, and Starkiller is gone, and you’ll be on your feet again in a couple of weeks once the bacta gets your back put back together.”
“Yay,” says Finn, still smiling. “You smell good.” And then he passes out again.
...Well. If that was a pass, then it was one of the least offensive ones Poe’s ever encountered, honestly. And it didn’t feel like a pass, really, just like Finn was drugged out of his head and saying whatever came to mind. Poe decides to mark that one down in the ‘maybe’ column and see what happens once Finn’s a little less...drugged unconscious.
*
Finn finds, to his delight, that it’s easy to make friends in the Resistance once he’s back on his feet. He’s willing to chip in with anything that needs doing, asking what he can do to help anytime it looks like an extra pair of hands would be appreciated, and if there’s one thing he learned in the First Order it’s how to take orders, so he learns how to fix half a dozen types of starship and make simple meals and work the Resistance clothes-washing machines (and learns about separating light and dark fabric, which never came up in the First Order) on top of his normal duties with the intelligence officers and his physical therapy and the cleaning duties he picks up because it’s honestly nice not to have to learn something completely new.
But everyone seems very confused, at first, at his willingness to be helpful.
Eventually, after the fifth or sixth person has given him a very strange look after he’s asked for instructions as politely as he knows how, he goes to Poe and asks if he’s doing something wrong.
“Not...wrong, precisely,” Poe says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly. “It’s just...you know about alignments?”
“I know what they are, yes,” Finn says, puzzled. “I know I’m an alpha, and so’s Rey, and you’re an omega.”
“Well, a lot of alphas are - and a lot of people expect alphas to be - sort of, um, aggressive. And, well, frankly, you both look and smell a lot like a quintessential alpha. It’s the shoulders, I think, as much as the smell. So a lot of people sort of expect you to be, um…” Poe shrugs. “Kind of more of an asshole than you ever are. And then you’re all nice, and polite, and a complete sweetheart, and it confuses people.”
Finn frowns. “But - why would alphas be assholes? That’s just silly.”
Poe laughs. “I mean, you’re totally right there, buddy, but - well - a lot of cultures hold that alphas are sort of, I dunno, dominant. Especially over omegas. And that omegas should be good little submissive obedient things with half a dozen kids and no particular desires of their own, because of course body chemistry overrides all other considerations.” Poe knows he sounds a little bitter, but honestly, after the first three or four alphas told him he ought to give up his dreams of being a fighter pilot and get back in the kitchen where he belonged, Poe was over the whole ‘dominant alpha’ thing.
Finn blinks at him for a moment. “You know,” he says, “this may actually be the first time I think the First Order had a slightly healthier way of coping with something than the rest of the galaxy does. In the First Order, it didn’t matter what your alignment was - Stormtroopers took orders, and officers gave them, and that was the end of it.” He shrugs. “I mean, they got everything else wrong, but…”
“Huh,” says Poe thoughtfully. “That’s the least horrifying thing I’ve heard about the First Order in...ever. Well. That explains why you’re disconcerting people, anyhow.”
Finn shakes his head. “Honestly, had any of these alphas who think omegas are supposed to be all submissive and obedient ever met - I dunno - you? I mean really.”
Poe goes pink at the ears. “That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me, buddy,” he says, and claps Finn on the shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Er,” says Finn, now very confused. “You’re welcome?”
*
Poe has been trying very hard not to fall for Finn, because he’s been here before and he knows how it goes. No matter how good an alpha smells, eventually most of them turn out to be assholes. So he’s been trying hard not to pay attention to Finn’s broad shoulders or his lovely smile or the really nice alpha scent he’s got going. It’s harder not to pay attention to his sweet, friendly, helpful nature, but that could be a front, right? But - but then Finn has to go and be so completely different from every alpha Poe has ever met, so utterly sure that Poe can handle himself, should be allowed to be exactly what he wants to be, and - yep, that’s it, Poe’s done. There has never before been any alpha that Poe was so utterly sure he wanted, blood and bone.
Which of course brings up the interesting question of whether Finn is interested in him.
...Kriff, if the First Order doesn’t recognize alignments, does Finn even know about heats? If Poe asks him to be his heat-partner, will that even mean anything to Finn? Augh. Augh. Poe is not even remotely prepared for any of this.
Flying recon missions is strangely soothing, for once: at least the threat of being shot down by the First Order is a nice simple thing to worry about.
*
Finn is so baffled by Poe’s description of what people in the Resistance expect alphas to be like - and yeah, now that he’s looking for it, he can see how the omegas in the Resistance leave a slightly larger berth around him, give him odd looks when he’s polite and friendly and helpful and asks for advice or instructions, can see how even the betas are disconcerted when he doesn’t come bulling in like an idiot and try to give orders - that he goes down to medical and corners the droid who’s been helping with his physical therapy, MD-84, called Middie only by people who really want their kneecaps ‘accidentally’ bruised.
MD-84 gives him a datapad full of helpful research materials and a pat on the knee, which is at least slightly reassuring. Finn spends a long and not entirely pleasant evening reading about how people on this side of the galaxy expect alphas to be aggressive, overbearing, and in charge, and expect omegas to be submissive and nearly mindless. As far as he can tell, every last bit of it is bullshit, and it makes him mad, not so much that people would assume all these things about him - he can deal with that, is dealing with that - but that people would believe such stupid, obviously wrong things about Poe. If Finn ever catches anyone giving Poe this kind of crap, he’s gonna hold them still so Poe can break their kneecaps, or anything else he wants to break, for that matter..
But the last thing on the datapad actually is useful: it’s the Resistance guidelines on how to handle heat leave for its omega fighters. Apparently, in the Resistance, instead of just suppressing their heats (something, Finn learns, which can have unpleasant long-term health consequences - oh, no wonder the First Order does it, then, since they don’t actually give a damn about the long-term health of their Stormtroopers), the Resistance, like the New Republic, allows for a three-day heat leave for an omega and, if requested, their chosen partner. That explains some of the more baffling conversations Finn has overheard in the last few weeks, actually.
Finn has a sudden, startling thought: what if Poe were to ask him to be his heat partner?
...Oh, kriff. Finn...Finn can’t think about that. He won’t be able to get anything else done. The mental image of beautiful, clever, cocky Poe Dameron spread out on a bed and asking for Finn to fuck him…
Yep, Finn needs to stop thinking about that right kriffing now. Poe probably already has a heat partner he trusts. Or doesn’t want one. In any case, Finn should not be thinking about his friend like that. Definitely not. He’ll think about something else, any second now.
*
Poe knows he’s cutting it a bit close when he gets back from his latest recon mission - Force knows BB-8 has been hounding him about it; the little droid keeps better track of Poe’s heats than he does sometimes - but there’s still time for him to give the General his report and then get back to his room - his room with the scent-seal on the door and the very sturdy lock, like all omegas’ rooms on base - without any trouble.
And honestly it would have worked perfectly if he hadn’t literally bumped into Finn on the way back to his room.
Finn smells so kriffing good, but honestly even that wouldn’t be enough to derail Poe’s perfectly good plan to go lock himself in his room with a knotting dildo for three days. It’s when Finn catches him, looks him up and down, sniffs, and then says, “Oh - oh! Are you going into heat? Do you need me to go find your heat partner, or - or should I just - sorry, sorry -” and lets go of Poe and backs away.
Poe has literally never met a single other alpha who would have done that. At best, most alphas would have asked if Poe wanted them to be his heat partner - with clear overtones that a refusal was not going to go over well. At worst - well, there’s a reason BB-8 has a little taser built into it. And here’s Finn, smelling like the alpha of alphas and looking at Poe with heat and hunger in his eyes and apologizing for grabbing him.
Poe is not equipped to deal with this at the best of times, much less bare hours before his heat starts.
“I don’t have a regular heat partner,” he informs Finn, “but I think maybe I’d like one. If you’re interested.”
“...You’re sure?” Finn asks, and Poe can smell the sudden wave of arousal, can see the way Finn sways towards him before he catches himself - can also see that Finn is trying, so hard, not to pressure Poe at all, not to expect anything from him. Damn, Poe has literally never met an alpha this disciplined and kind.
“Very, very sure,” he assures Finn, and takes Finn’s hand, lacing their fingers together, and tugs his new heat partner - maybe more than heat partner - down the corridor. “BB, would you let the General know I’m stealing Finn for the next three days?”
BB-8 bloops laughter and goes trundling off down the corridor, and Finn tightens his fingers around Poe’s and makes a soft, hungry sound.
*
Finn isn’t entirely sure how he got from bumping into Poe accidentally in a corridor to being Poe’s heat partner, dear Force, but he’s certainly not going to let go of the opportunity now that he has it. If he’s very careful and does a very good job, maybe it will even become a regular thing - maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll be allowed to kiss Poe, to hold him close and call him the sweet names that he’s heard other people using for their lovers, even when Poe isn’t in heat.
Which of course brings him to the small problem that while he read through everything MD-84 gave him religiously, Finn has never actually acted as anyone’s heat partner before, and has no kriffing clue what to do.
He says as much as the door to Poe’s room closes behind them, and Poe chuckles.
“Well, a lot of it’s instinctual,” he says easily. “As for the rest of it - I like it when my hair is pulled, just a little. I don’t like having anything put around my neck. Hydration is important - my heat cupboard’s over there, should be full of water bottles and protein bars, sorry about the poor selection - so yeah, eat and drink when you can, I’ll do the same. Nap when you can.” He shrugs. “It’s not like I’m going to be incoherent or anything. Just...really, really horny.” And then, sounding almost contrite, “You don’t have to, you know. Sorry, I kind of dragged you in here…”
Finn shakes his head, raises their still-clasped hands to kiss Poe’s knuckles. “No, I - I want to. I really want to. I just never have.”
“Got to have a first time sometime,” Poe says, grinning. “Right. We should eat and drink and then we should probably get naked. But first. Kiss me?”
Finn leans in to kiss his - heat partner, friend, maybe even more? - and can’t help the sound he makes as their lips meet. Poe tastes so good. And he sways against Finn, warm and sweet, and Finn realizes suddenly that that mental image he’s been trying to banish for the last week, of Poe spread out and wanting, is about to become a reality.
Holy kriffing hell. Possibly this is all just a really good dream?
But a dream would not include the way Poe tastes, the way his fingers bite into Finn’s shoulder as they sway together, the way he moans softly into the kiss. So this is real, and Finn has just gotten unreasonably lucky. Maybe the Force really does like him.
*
Finn is just so unrelentingly sweet. Poe can’t help but compare this to the last time he took a heat partner, years ago in the New Republic; the alpha had been polite enough up until the point when they were both naked, and then he’d pinned Poe to the bed and rutted into him hard enough to hurt, disregarding everything Poe had told him. Poe’d actually thrown him out after the first wave of heat was over, BB-8 bristling menacingly as backup.
“But that’s what omegas like,” the alpha in question had protested as Poe politely but firmly ordered him out of the room.
“I’m an omega, and I’m telling you that’s not what I like,” Poe had replied. The alpha had gone away very unhappy.
Poe hadn’t enjoyed it much either - his biochemistry had been very happy to have an alpha in bed with him, and the substitution of a knotting dildo had not been completely satisfying.
(There are omegas, Poe knows, who take heat partners who are betas or even other omegas, and that works for them, but Poe - Poe would like to have an alpha to help him through his heats. He likes the way they smell, the way his instincts tell him they ought to be, protective and gentle and only ever aggressive in the best ways. It’s just that until now he’s never found one like that. They exist, he knows, it’s just that they tend to get snapped up pretty fast by clever omegas with the luck to spot them.)
That incident had earned him a reputation among the pilots of the New Republic for being unreasonably picky. Yeah, Poe is picky.
He’s picked Finn.
Beautiful, disciplined Finn, who waits until Poe invites him to touch him, and then runs a wondering hand over Poe’s chest, leans in and kisses Poe long and sweet and gentle. Poe laughs against his lips.
“So,” he says, “first round’s going to be sort of quick. After that we can have a bit of a snuggle and talk, okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Finn agrees, and Poe rolls over on the bed, pushes up to his hands and knees so Finn can see his entrance, wet and achingly ready. Finn makes a soft, astonished sound and brushes two curious fingers over it, and Poe can’t help the whine that makes it out between his clenched teeth.
“Explore later,” he says. “Please.”
“Yeah,” Finn replies, sounding almost dazed, and gets up on his knees behind Poe, braces his hands carefully on Poe’s hips and presses his cock into Poe easy and slow, sliding in until his knot brushes against Poe’s entrance like a promise. Poe lets his breath out in a long sigh, goes down on his elbows for a better angle.
“How d’you want me to do this?” Finn asks.
“Fast and hard,” Poe tells him. “Put your back into it.”
“Alright,” Finn says, voice thick with lust, and obeys.
Poe lets go, loses himself in the haze of heat and rut and perfect, driving pleasure.
*
When Poe comes back to himself, he finds he is lying on his side, Finn a warm wall behind him, Finn’s knot still filling him perfectly, and Finn is running his free hand gently over Poe’s chest and stomach, exploring gently, and murmuring soft, delightful words in Poe’s ear. “So beautiful,” is the first phrase Poe catches, “can’t believe you chose me, kriffing hell, you’re so damn perfect.”
Poe grins without opening his eyes, takes careful inventory of his physical condition. He’s sore, but only a little and in the best way, and the only bruises he can detect are on his hips, where Finn’s strong hands held him still. That’s alright. Poe has absolutely no objection to wearing Finn’s marks on his hips.
Poe stretches, reveling a little in the soft sound Finn makes as the stretch makes him clench around Finn’s knot. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“Isn’t that my line?” Finn asks, laughing a little. Poe chuckles, bends the arm beneath his head so he can scritch his fingers through Finn’s short hair. Finn makes a sort of purring moan and leans into the touch, so Poe keeps scritching, leans into the broad warm strokes of Finn’s hand on his chest. “Did I do it right?” Finn adds, hopefully.
“So right,” Poe assures him. He makes a soft sound of mild disappointment when Finn’s knot finally deflates and Finn slips out of him, but the slight discomfort is more than alleviated by the fact that Finn immediately rolls him onto his back and kisses him half-senseless. Yep. Good. Kisses.
Finn laughs a little at Poe’s dazed look, and rolls out of bed. Poe sprawls across it - the sheets are a lost cause, always are during a heat, no point worrying about it - and watches with cheerful lechery as Finn pads naked across the room to the heat cupboard, returns with a bottle of water and a blumfruit-flavored protein bar for Poe, heads back to the cupboard for his own water and snack. Hmmm, a startlingly beautiful alpha bringing Poe food while he lolls about in bed - Poe could get used to this. Finn settles down on the bed next to Poe’s legs, eats his protein bar in three huge bites. Poe nibbles at his - he’s never terribly hungry during a heat. The water’s honestly more important, so he drains the bottle and puts half his protein bar aside for later.
“These are much better than the ones we got in the First Order,” Finn observes, tossing the wrapper from his protein bar into the trash and lying down next to Poe again.
“Yeah? That’s a little terrifying,” Poe informs him. “It’s not like these are good. Just...they make decent heat snacks.”
“Yeah, well, the ones we got in the First Order were completely flavorless,” Finn says, grimacing. “It would probably have been more fun chewing the wrapper.”
“Ick,” is Poe’s considered opinion. “How about we think about something more pleasant.”
“Sure,” Finn says, rolling up on one elbow and smiling down at him. Damn, those shoulders. Poe knows that Finn is ridiculously strong and absurdly well-trained; he’s seen him take down all comers in the training gym, seen him cut a swathe through enemy fighters during a mission gone very nearly wrong. Finn could be alpha of alphas, if he wanted to, could be second in the informal alignment hierarchy of the Resistance after only the General herself - and instead he is smiling down at Poe, waiting patiently for Poe to tell him what he wants.
...Damn, every single bad experience Poe has had with an alpha was completely worth it if it earned him this.
*
Finn is still not quite sure how he got this lucky, but he’s not going to question it - that might make this turn out to be a dream, and Finn doesn’t think he could handle losing this when he’s only just found it.
He thought the mental image of Poe sprawled out and wanting him was appealing. It has nothing on the reality: the way Poe’s eyes are half-closed with pleasure when Finn touches him, the way he arches up against Finn’s hands, the way he moans when Finn dares to tangle his hands in Poe’s hair and tug the way Poe said he liked, the way he feels around Finn’s knot, tight and perfect, the way he smells, sweet and heady and almost enough to make Finn forget his discipline and just - take.
Only almost, thank the Force. Finn keeps his head, even when Poe is lost to heat-haze and pleasure, and though his instincts are screaming for him to pin Poe down and take whatever he wants, Finn shoves that away and ignores it, concentrates instead on what Poe asks him for, on giving Poe precisely and only what he wants and needs. It’s not as though that’s a hardship, anyway - kind of the opposite. Finn could happily spend the rest of his life giving Poe exactly what he wants and needs, especially when those needs include being fucked silly repeatedly.
Poe’s heat runs out near the middle of the third day, and they both collapse in a heap and sleep for six hours, and then take turns using up what certainly feels like all the hot water on base. Finn is sore all over, the soreness of muscles used a little too hard, and also feels like he might not be able to get another erection for...oh, three months or so...but he can’t stop smiling, mostly because when they woke up, Poe rolled over and kissed him thoroughly and said, still smiling, “Thank you, sweetheart. That was...that was perfect.”
Finn tucks that moment away in his memory to take out and cherish later, when he has time and privacy and can just grin stupidly to himself for a while.
*
Poe has honestly never felt so good after a heat, certainly not one that he took a partner for. He’s sore, but only in the perfectly normal just-had-sex-for-two-and-a-half-days-straight sort of way, and the only bruises he has are the ones on his hips and a really lovely one on his shoulder from the time somewhere on the second day when he begged Finn to bite him, and Finn did, the pain a perfect counterpoint to the overwhelming pleasure of his knot. But aside from the soreness, which is actually kind of nice as a reminder of all the really lovely sex, Poe feels...good. Remarkably good. Finn kept him hydrated and fed, cleaned them both up whenever he could manage it, cuddled him while they napped. This, Poe suspects, is what the aftermath of a heat is supposed to feel like: contented satiation and pleasant soreness and a brand-new store of really good memories which are going to keep Poe grinning at odd moments for weeks.
And, best of all, Finn doesn’t treat Poe any differently than he did before the heat. Well, he looks at Poe occasionally with dark eyes, and Poe suspects he’s remembering pinning Poe to the bed and giving him exactly what he wanted, but other than that, Finn is still the same cheerful, friendly, tactile, helpful man he was three days ago. He’s not possessive, he’s not aggressive, he’s not weirdly standoffish - all reactions Poe has had to deal with before - he’s just...Finn.
They both eat what feels like their own bodyweights in the mess hall, and then Poe claps Finn on the shoulder and heads down to the hangar to see what mischief his pilots have gotten up to, and Finn heads down to the training rooms to see what he’s missed, and it’s all very...comfortable. Poe’s pretty sure they’ll meet up again at dinner, talk about their day as they always do; pretty sure that Finn will bring him a spare breadroll because Poe always forgets to grab one and that Poe will have a glass of sweetapple juice waiting because that tends to run out before Finn gets to the mess hall and -
Huh.
If Poe were watching anyone else act like that, he’d assume they were lovers. And Poe’s been...aware of that, certainly, of the fact that they behave more like sweethearts than friends, but he’s been sort of ignoring it, too, because ‘lovers’ is a step he’s a little wary about taking.
But now he knows what Finn is like during a heat, when he’s got all the power and control and Poe is half-mindless with desire, and what Finn is like is...is exactly what Poe has always wanted in an alpha, in a lover. Sweet and kind and gentle and aggressive in only the very best ways, giving and generous and adoring and, yes, perfectly capable of fucking Poe through the mattress in exactly the way he wants it.
Poe’s been ignoring the fact that he and Finn act like lovers, because he learned that lesson a long time ago. Alphas are more trouble than they’re worth; take them as lovers and they think they own you. Only Finn is...alpha, definitely alpha, holy Force is he an alpha...and also perfect in every conceivable way.
Hmmmm.
BB-8 bloops worriedly at Poe as he pauses in the middle of tinkering with the insides of his beloved X-Wing. {Designation: Friend-Finn did not do Designation: Master-Poe harm?}
“No,” Poe tells his droid quietly. “No, no harm, I promise. Actually, I was thinking about...do you think I should ask him to be my permanent heat partner, and maybe...maybe more?”
BB-8 beeps relieved laughter. {Designation: Friend-Finn loves Designation: Master-Poe.}
“How on earth do you know that?” Poe asks curiously.
{I have been informed by Designation: Friend-Jess and Designation: Friend-Snap and Designation: Friend-Kaydel and Designation: Friend-Kare and Designation: General-Princess-Leia-Organa and Designation:...}
“Enough, enough!” Poe laughs. “So pretty much everyone on base thinks Finn is gone on me, and I’m pretty well gone on him, and he’s the best heat partner I’ve ever had by an order of magnitude or two.”
{Logic would suggest Designation: Master-Poe should enter a relationship with Designation: Friend-Finn,} BB-8 agrees. {Designation: Master-Poe is not always logical, however.}
Poe lobs a rag at BB-8, laughing. “That was uncalled for,” he complains.
{Designation: Master-Poe should enter a relationship with Designation: Friend-Finn,} BB-8 repeats. {A relationship with Designation: Friend-Finn will make Designation: Master-Poe happy.}
“Yeah,” Poe agrees, patting his droid gently on the head. “Yeah. It will. Glad you approve, buddy.”
BB-8 knocks against his legs gently, beeping affirmation, and Poe goes back to work with a broad smile on his face.
*
Finn isn’t quite sure what he expects to happen at dinner - honestly, he most just expects dinner, because that’s what happens at dinnertime, right? - and at first it does seem that nothing has changed between him and Poe just because they happened to spend Poe’s heat together. Poe has a glass of sweetapple juice waiting for Finn, just like normal, and Finn grabs an extra roll and grins at the server behind the meal line, who shakes her head at him in mock dismay.
But Poe’s a little...tense...when Finn sits down - he smiles, he scootches over to give Finn room, but there’s something about him that puts Finn a little on edge. Shit, did Finn do something wrong? Did he offend Poe, or not do something he should’ve, or -
“Hey, buddy, come for a walk with me after dinner?” Poe murmurs, and Finn relaxes.
“Yeah, sure,” he says, and pats BB-8 on the dome when the little droid bumps into his knee, and settles down. Surely it’s nothing that bad, then, if Poe wants to discuss it during a walk.
After dinner, Finn follows Poe out of the dining hall and out of the base, to the half-wild area that everyone sort of jokingly calls ‘Rey’s Garden’. Poe reaches out to take Finn’s hand, and Finn relaxes the rest of the way, laces his fingers through Poe’s and walks contentedly alongside his friend, ready to wait as long as it takes for Poe to say what he wants to say.
“So,” says Poe after a while. “You remember I said I don’t have a regular heat partner?”
“Yeah,” Finn agrees. He’s pretty sure he know why, from what Poe said about how alphas behave, from the materials MD-84 gave him, even from stuff he’s overheard from the other Resistance fighters. Poe wouldn’t want a heat partner who treated him like some sort of...mindless, submissive creature, and honestly if Finn found out someone was treating Poe like that he’d be very tempted to break their face. Though Poe would probably have gotten there first, so really Finn doing it too would be sort of redundant.
“I’d never found an alpha I liked as more than a friend before - honestly it’s rare enough for me to even find friends among alphas,” Poe says slowly. “Less so here, because the General stomps on alpha bullshit when she sees it. But still.” He stops and turns to look at Finn, and Finn can’t help holding his hand a little tighter, hope in his throat like a stone.
“You, though,” Poe says softly. “You - you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and you’re one of the strongest alphas I’ve ever met, and you’re astonishingly good in bed.”
Finn can feel his face heat, but - good, that’s good, right? That he made Poe happy?
“I honestly never thought I’d ask anyone this, but - would you like to be my - my lover, I guess. My permanent heat partner, but also - also between heats.”
Finn can’t help the smile that spreads over his face. “Yes. Of course yes, Poe - did you really have to ask?” He lifts their clasped hands to his lips, kisses Poe’s knuckles softly. Poe laughs.
“I mean, yes, I did have to ask, that’s the sort of thing you ask before assuming, but - I did kind of figure you’d say yes.” Poe’s grinning back at him, wide and lovely, and Finn leans in for a kiss, catches himself just before their lips meet.
“Is this - can I kiss you?”
Poe laughs, warm air against Finn’s mouth, and closes the gap between them. “Yes,” he says against Finn’s lips. “You can kiss me.”
*
Poe is immensely pleased, as the days go by, to find that being Finn’s lover changes surprisingly little about their interactions. They still meet up for meals, sharing food and talking easily as they eat. They still hold hands as they walk together, though the occasional kisses are new and sweet. Finn makes no attempt to control Poe, to take him away from his X-Wing or his role as Commander; and when Poe has to leave on a mission, Finn waves until he’s out of sight and says no word, either before Poe leaves or after he returns, suggesting he thinks Poe should not take such risks.
In short, Finn looks like an alpha - those shoulders, Poe is never going to be over those shoulders - and he smells like an alpha, and when he’s not thinking about it he carries himself like an alpha, all confidence and strength, but there’s nothing in him of the worst parts of the alphas Poe has learned to distrust: no arrogance, no stupid aggressiveness, no desire to make Poe sit down and shut up and submit just because he happens to go into heat four times a year.
He’s kriffing perfect, is what he is, and now that Poe’s found him, he’s got no intention of ever letting him go.
*
Finn gets offers, now and again, from other omegas in the Resistance - new recruits, usually, who don’t know or don’t believe (or don’t care) that he’s already in a relationship. He turns them all down with a smile, as gently as possible, though he knows that other alphas will sometimes act as heat partners for two or three or even four omegas - Poe is it for him, as far as Finn is concerned, the only partner Finn ever wants to have.
He gets challenges, too, from alphas who think that because he is polite and friendly and not even a little bit aggressive, because he has chosen an omega who is so very unlike the stereotypical houseomega, that he must be weak. Those, he accepts, with Poe’s and the General’s blessing, and takes a sort of wicked pleasure in teaching aggressive, knotheaded alphas that just because someone is polite and good-natured doesn’t mean they’re not capable of beating the absolute bantha shit out of someone. It is, the General usually points out to the blubbering heap of alpha Finn leaves behind on the mat each time, a very useful lesson.
And there’s a war on, so both Poe and Finn are very busy in their respective areas - Finn is Major Ematt’s right hand, these days, helping to train the ground troops in what to expect from the Stormtroopers and how to deal with it - and there are some days that they don’t see each other at all, some weeks when one or both are out on missions and their shared bed is cold. But when they are together, Finn is happier than he ever dreamed of being, content to sit beside Poe at dinner with their hands clasped beneath the table or go wandering through Rey’s Garden together or snuggle for hours in their shared bed, Poe telling stories of his childhood or the fascinating planets he’s seen. And every three months they get three days together, locked in Poe’s room with BB-8 guarding the door, and Finn does his utmost to make sure that Poe gets exactly and precisely what he wants during his heat. He gets quite good at it, too, at least judging by the way Poe tends to end his heats draped over Finn like a particularly warm blanket, panting words of praise in a voice hoarse from cries of pleasure. Finn’s...sort of smug about that.
Any alpha can be strong and aggressive and overbearing, after all. But being the sort of alpha who makes his partner - his beloved - that happy? Now that, so far as Finn is concerned, is what really matters.