PROMPT POST #6- CLOSED

[themodawakens]

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Comments

Endymion and I - 18/?

[(Anonymous)]

Finn wakes up in the middle of the night, with a stiff back and the sense that time has passed. Beneath the blankets, all the places he's pressed against Poe are warm. But his feet - exposed to the ambient air - are cold. The couch is just shy of spilling them both off, even as close together as they are.

He holds out as long as he can, watching Poe sleep against his chest with the low golden glow of the firelight playing over his skin, picking out glinting highlights in his curly, sleek black hair. His face of free of worry or concentration. Peaceful, and Finn thinks this is the first ime he's really seen Poe with his guard down.

It feels thrilling; illicit and special.

They'd rolled around a lot, got hot and bothered over the sort of stuff Finn hasn't done since he was a teenager. He'd liked the way their bodies fit together, the spaces against his skin that Poe seemed to fill. It hadn't gotten more serious than that, yet. The cold and late had lulled them both to early, sleepy satiation.

Besides, Finn's got some idea that Poe's probably pretty new to this. He's okay with taking it at Poe's pace.

Maybe upstairs, in bed, where there's actually room to do so.

Finn shifts, wondering if he can disengage without waking Poe up - there's another blanket over on the easy chair, and Finn needs to pee. Poe opens his eyes when Finn moves. It's slow and sleepy and beautiful.

"Sorry," Finn says, running his hand down the curve of Poe's back. Poe arches up into the motion with an easy, lithe stretch.

"No need to be sorry," he says, sleep-gentle. Finn can feel his voice through the contact between their chests. "Did I put your legs to sleep?"

"Nope," Finn says, "but you are hogging the blanket."

Poe arches his brows a little, tipping his head in amused acknowledgment. "It's my blanket."

"Oh, I see how it is," Finn says, watching fondness crinkle up the corners of Poe's eyes with old joy-lines.

"There's other blankets," Poe says, making no motion to get up so Finn can reach them.

"I got a better idea," Finn says.

Poe looks at him with an amused light in his eyes, folding one hand under his chin and against Finn's chest. The intent of the gesture is clear - he's listening.

"You let me get up," Finn begins, detailing it as if he's laying out the plan in a heist movie. "I go to the bathroom before anything unfortunate happens. Then we go up to bed."

"Those are my blankets, too," Poe says.

"But they're a little bigger," Finn answers, playing along with the game.

"We'll have to share with the dog," Poe tells him, groaning as he gets up. Sleeping in the confined space was getting to him, also.

"The dog will have to share with us," Finn agrees. He takes Poe's outstretched hand and sits up. The shift in position and gravity gives rise to an urgent feeling in his bladder.

"Well, we're all canines here," Poe says, and then gives a convulsive shiver as the cool air sucks heat off his skin. He picks up the blanket they'd been sharing and wraps it around his shoulders.

"Hold that thought," Finn says, hearing the tightness in his own voice before he excuses himself to the bathroom.

Outside, it seems strangely bright through the small, high window. Light reflecting off the surrounding snow. He can see it's still falling hard, and he's no stranger to snow storms. This one's a doozie.

Finn's never been this pleased at the prospect of being snowed in before. Maybe it's a cheap, flimsy excuses, but Finn doesn't mind even if it's cliche. Better to spend such cold days with someone close.

Poe's looking out the window at the front of the cabin, with the blanket still around his shoulders and no lights on. Finn can see the outline of his profile; the way it looks so serious, even when Poe's relaxed, with his guard down in his own home.

It feels more intimate than all the heated slithering they'd indulged in earlier. Maybe it's as deep as they'd get tonight, no matter what else happens.

"What's it look like out there?" Finn asks, easing up behind Poe and framing his body with his own.

"It's really coming down," Poe says. Then, just like that, he leans back against Finn. They fit together again. "What'd you do in the city when it snowed like this?"

"It's not so different. Shovel out the walk and driveway, and then wait for the plows to come," Finn says. Then, playfully, he adds; "spend a little extra time in bed, keeping warm."

"That sounds pretty good," Poe says. "Let's do that."

He starts to turn to go, heading for the stairs up into the loft, and Finn catches his wrist.

"You don't have to," Finn says, because he has good sense.

Poe looks at him, with that half-wild and daring expression that Finn's seen him get before he dives into something; that look means no one, not even his own self preservation is going to hold him back.

"I want to," Poe says, firmly. He adds, to punctuate, "I want to, with you."

Finn tries to remember that this is an important conversation as his heart speeds up and a helplessly pleased smile tries to overtake his features.

"Right," Finn says, grinning. "Okay, but there's no pressure."

"Finn, you're making me nervous," Poe says. "There's no pressure for you, either, if you don't want to."

"I just want you to know you're in charge," Finn says.

That turns Poe's expression first to surprise, then a wicked sort of pleasure that leaves Finn with the same feeling he gets when he wags his tail. He hadn't expected that, for some reason. maybe because while Poe's clearly in charge of this little scrap of territory, that's all he's ever been allowed.

"Alright," Poe says, reaching out to pull Finn against his side and under the blanket. "Well, if I'm in charge, I'm going to seize the initiative."

He pauses, turning his body in Finn's arms, lifting the blanket around Finn's neck and pressing their bodies together. He leans up to kiss Finn quickly.

"I'm going to be a tyrant," Poe promises, leading Finn upstairs and into the loft.