Title: Day 7
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Star Wars: the Force Awakens
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Poe/Finn
Disclaimer: Not my characters. I wish they were mine. I definitely don’t get paid for this.
Summary: When Poe comes down with something, he does his best to hide it. But someone notices.
Notes: Written during my 13 Ficlets in 13 Days in 2016 project for Anonymous

When Poe Dameron loved something, he loved it passionately. That included whoever he happened to be seeing at the moment, the members of his squadrons he would fight to his last to protect, and his role in the resistance as a pilot. Flying was the ultimate high. Being able to hop in his ship and make it go anywhere, the control, the freedom, the solitude... you just couldn't beat that. “ah hah Ghhshhh!” Not to mention that out here in space, there was no one to hear him sneeze, as long as he made sure the com channel was off before it happened. Luckily, he usually got some warning when he felt an allergy attack hit him or he felt like he might be coming down with a bug or something.

“ahhh AH-GTShhhh!” This time around, he had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter. He'd felt kinda off all morning, not really hungry during breakfast in the mess hall, not really paying attention during General Organa's briefing. But he'd felt better the moment those bay doors had opened and he'd hit open space with his squadron for some drills. As long as he wasn't grounded, Poe was certain he could get through anything.

“hah ahh hnnh hah-GTChhh!” Including whatever this was. He sniffed and cleared his throat before pressing the button on his instrument panel to unmute the communications channel. “Everyone, hold your positions for one more rotation around the moon, then we'll work on... attack formations.” Quickly he pressed the button again. “ah CHIShhhhh!” That had been almost too close. When he pressed com button again, he heard the normal agreements and chatter. That was soothing, reassuring. No one knew he was coming down sick, and he intended to keep it that way.

*

Returning to base after a long flight usually filled Poe with a sense of accomplishment along with some disappointment to be back on the ground. But seeing Finn waiting for him in the hanger doorway, wearing that jacket even though he was indoors, made Poe eager to jump right out of his ship and race right over.

Finn was going to want a kiss, though. Which meant germs that could be catching. Damn it. He'd have to settle for a hug. The trick was going to be doing it in such a way that Finn wouldn't suspect anything was wrong.

Poe went through the usual post-flight list for his fighter, making sure it was secure and taken care of. One of the mechanics was already there to give it a check-over as well. The resistance couldn't afford for anything to go wrong with their fighters. He waved to the woman but didn't waste any time in hurrying off, because he already needed to rub a bit at his nose with on one looking at him. If he wanted to hide this cold, he couldn't very well sneeze right there in the hanger in front of everyone, could he?

Luckily, he managed to get the tickle to die down. Filled with confidence, he headed over to where Finn now stood, his back against the wall just inside so he didn't block the doorway. “Hey there,” Poe said, sliding his hands under the sides of the jacket. His light touch made ticklish Finn chuckle and tense up, moving forward, rolling in on himself just a little. Poe took advantage, wrapping his arms around his lover and holding him close in a tight hug. When he pulled back, it looked like Finn might go in for a kiss, so Poe improvised, faking a yawn and pulling back, ruining the moment at once.

“Hey yourself,” Finn replied, and from the tone of his voice it didn't sound like he suspected Poe might be sick. This wouldn't be so bad. He was sure he could get through this without being found out. “Thought I'd go grab some lunch. Do you want to join me?”

Poe didn't, really. He still didn't have much of an appetite. But he was usually ravenous after a flight, and he didn't want to do anything out of the ordinary. “Of course. Lead the way!” If Finn went first, Poe could rub his nose without being seen.

Finn hesitated for a moment. “You're just saying that because you like watching my ass, don't you?”

It was Poe's turn to chuckle. “You're onto me!” His hands slid down and squeezed Finn's ass through the khaki pants. He felt the man's cheeks clench at his touch and, oh, if he couldn't make love to Finn until this cold had passed, it was going to be worse than he'd anticipated. “C'mon. Let's go,” he said, turning Finn in place and nudging him toward the door. As they got to the hallway, sure no one was looking, Poe rubbed his nose. He kept it up for most of the walk there.

Poe got his usual lunch, though he had no intention of eating it. Swallowing hurt, and not being able to swallow was never okay in Poe Dameron's world.

Finn got his usual as well, but when he went to drink his coffee, he made a face. “Ew. They gave me tea. Should I go complain? Or... maybe you want it?”

Conflicted for minute about how to play this, Poe chewed on his lower lip. He wanted the tea, and it probably wouldn't look too obvious if he just drank what was being offered. But would he have to offer his coffee in exchange? If he didn't offer it, would Finn ask for it? Tea, though. “Yeah, sure. I'll drink it. Don't want to waste anything, right?”

“Right,” Finn agreed, smiling as he slid the tall cup across the table. Poe held his breath, but the man didn't ask for his coffee. Poe took a sip of the tea, which was so warm and soothing against his throat it made him want to curl up and go straight to sleep. But sleeping underneath a table in the mess hall would kind of be a dead giveaway that he didn't feel so good. When he tried to eat some food, it didn't hurt so much when he swallowed it. The tea was definitely helping his sore throat, but it wasn't doing anything to help his nose.

“ah!” He held his breath, hoping against hope that the sneeze would go away and Finn wouldn't notice. But Finn didn't say anything, didn't even look up from his food. Poe rubbed desperately at his nose. And when the feeling didn't go away, he muttered a quick, “bathroom break!” and bolted. He made it as far as the door before bending forward with an intense pair of sneezes. “ahhGshhh! AhChshhhh!”  

*

“ahhChishhh!” Poe rubbed his wrist under his nose as he leaned over the table, studying the star map. His nose was practically dripping when he was hunched over in his position, which seemed to be making it tickle constantly. “ah ahh GHShhhh!”

Hearing a familiar whir and beep, Poe looked down to find BB-8 rolling over to rest beside the table. “I'm betting you heard that?”

BB-8 beeped affirmatively.

“Would you believe I'm suh uhh ahhhGITChh! Sniff! suddenly allergic to maps?”

BB-8 rolled back and forth and answered in the negative this time.

Poe took a deep breath and rubbed at his nose. “Okay, but are you going to tell Finn that I've caught a cold? 'Cause I don't want him to know. He'll just worry and fuss.”

With a series of comforting beeps, BB-8 promised not to say anything, as if Finn would understand him anyway. Then a compartment sprung open on the droid and a small box of tissues slid out. Sounding a bit cheeky this time, BB-8 told him to help himself.  

“Thah sniff! Thanks.” Poe set the box on the table then helped himself to one to blow his nose. It wasn't until the third blow that a question occurred to him. “Where did you get these?”

Instead of answering, BB-8 quickly rolled away.

“Hey!” He called after the droid, but he couldn't yell loudly, as his throat hurt, and it seemed like BB-8 hadn't heard.

“ahhh HIGShhhhh!” He helped himself to another tissue from the box, still marveling at it. Maybe the droid was even more perceptive than he had given it credit for.

*

Poe was looking forward to his evening patrol run of the quadrant. He knew he shouldn't be flying at all when he was sick, but he truly felt he needed this. Being out there in space with his music blasting loud enough he couldn't hear himself sneeze was just what he needed. All he had to do was get through the hanger to his ship and off the ground without anyone calling him out on being sick and grounding him, and he would be free and clear to fly.

So before he left his quarters, he had blown his nose as fully as possible so he wouldn't sound stuffed-up if someone stopped him for a chat. He had gone through nearly all the tissues in the little box BB-8 had brought, but he had stuffed what was left into his pockets just in case he needed them out there. He had also splashed some water on his face and slapped his cheeks, not wanting to look either too flushed or too pale.

He walked to his ship with put-on confidence, waving at friends and squadron members but not engaging them in conversation, all the while his need to sneeze intensified in his nose. At one point, he thought the sneeze might explode from him when he was passing two friends, but he managed to hold his breath and grit his teeth and hold it off just a little longer.

Slipping into the pilot's seat of his fighter, success rushed through him. He bent over as best he could, hiding himself from the view of anyone who might be able to see him. He cupped his hand with a tissue in it to his nose and mouth and finally let loose with the sneezes he'd been holding back. “ahhhKShhh! Huh Gshhhhh! Heh hah ahhh GIHShhhh!”

As he sat up, sniffling softly, he noticed something wedged next to him, something he knew he hadn't put there himself. There was another small tissue box, the same size as the one BB-8 had brought, a travel mug with a bag of tea steeping in it, a small bag containing a few cough drops, a pack of medication with their med bay's logo stamped on it, and a small throw blanket. Smart as the droid was, BB-8 couldn't have done all this for him.

Poe sat up straight, looking around. Maybe one of the pilots had heard him sneezing over the communications channel after all. Or maybe one of the mechanics had spotted him sneezing when he had thought no one was looking. He didn't see anyone looking meaningfully in his direction, though, so whoever had put these here hadn't stuck around to get the credit.

Any doubt Poe had felt about not being able to fly evaporated in the face of these items. They were exactly what he needed to make it through this patrol run. He thanked whoever had left them and then began to work through his pre-flight checklist, sniffling into tissues and sipping tea as he did so.

*

It was cold out there in space. Despite the throw blanket he draped over his lap and the hot tea he drank, Poe Dameron shivered. The flight had been routine, one he made once every few days when he came up in patrol rotation, but it had felt nice to be alone in his ship without anyone to hide from or apologize to when he needed to sneeze. And he seemed to need to do that more and more often. Thank goodness for the box of tissues he had on hand, though he'd have to fish every balled-up tissue off the floor of the fighter before climbing out or a mechanic would certainly find one and call him out on it or report it and get him grounded.

“ahhh GIHShhh! Sniff!”

Though, the more time that passed, the less he felt like that was a bad idea. When making a turn past a planet, he sneezed and hit the fighter's controls, almost dipping the ship down far enough to be caught by the planet's gravitation field. As it was, he over-corrected and had to adjust the controls carefully to resume course. No one had been there to see, but he'd seen and felt a little shaken by the mistake. He couldn't allow that to happen again. Maybe he should be grounded until his cold ran its course after all.

“ahh hahhTIHshhhh! HIHShhhh! Sniff! Sniff!” He sighed and massaged his nose through another tissue. He felt cold and sniffly and tired. As much as he loved flying, being out here on his own, feeling free, protecting his base, all he really felt like doing right now was slipping into bed and sleeping until this cold was all gone. “ah ahhhh Ah-GISHHH! Ughh...” He grabbed another tissue and wiped and rubbed and snuffled miserably.

His shift was over before he made it back to base; usually his timing was better than that, but he was even flying sluggishly this time. The flight straight back only took about fifteen minutes, but he managed to sneeze no fewer than thirty-eight times in the span of those fifteen minutes. By the time he soared through the doors and docked in the hanger, he was ready to ground himself. Coughing lightly from congestion, he gathered up the new and used tissues, cough drop wrappers, and empty travel mug in the throw blanket.

He nodded to the mechanic assigned to his fighter this time, even though the man looked at him curiously. He was unable to hold a cough back as he headed to the doors, letting it burst from him, drawing stares from everyone in the hanger. But Poe didn't care any more. He wouldn't have cared tight now if General Organa herself had walked in and caught him in a terrible sneezing fit.

“ahhh IHShhh!” Arms occupied, he rubbed his face into the blanket he clutched against his chest. “ah Gshhhh! GIHShhuhh! Ughhhh...” He felt weak and tired, and the sneezes made him feel even more weak and tired. His only thought now was bed. So he walked straight to his quarters. Bed. Sleeping. “ahh ah-GHSHHHH!” Blowing his nose. Then bed. Then sleeping. That was his plan. And it was a good plan. It was an excellent plan, actually.

It was the only plan in his head until he opened the door to his quarters and found Finn standing there. Poe froze. It was one thing for Poe to admit he was sick to his fellow pilots, but it was another to admit it to the man he was in a relationship with. But his nose tickled and head throbbed and throat itched and all he wanted to do was bury his face in the blanket and hide.

“Hey,” Finn said, his voice soft. “Are you all right?”

Poe shrugged. He didn't want to say it out loud, especially not to Finn. His nose tickled, and he tried to hold the sneeze back. But it was a strong, persistent urge. He raised the blanket in his arms and sneezed into it. “ahhhhhhhGShhmmph!”

“Bless you.”

Poe looked up warily. He'd have no choice but to admit it now. “Um, Finn... I...”

“I've got a heating pad in bed, under the covers, keeping it warm for you,” said Finn. “And I got the biggest box of tissues I could find. Do you want one now? You probably want one now. Here...” Finn reached down beside the bed and pulled a tissue from the box Poe hadn't spotted. He traded it for the blanket Poe had in his arms, setting that down in the corner for washing.

Poe folded the tissue over his nose and blew. Then he quickly refolded the tissue in time to catch his next sneeze. “ahhh GIHShhhhhh!”

“Bless you again. Come on, get in bed. Lie down before you fall down. You look dead on your feet, Poe.”

“I sniff! Do? Sniff!”

“Yeah. You've been worn down all day from that cold you've got. Bet it's hitting you hard now. Come, I'll keep you warm and look after you, if that's what you're worried about.”

Slowly, Poe smiled. “Guess I'm not worried about anything anymore.” He took off his uniform and got into bed. Just as Finn had promised, it was warm already. And it felt amazing. He stretched out under the covers, reveling in the feeling and in the thoughtfulness of Finn. Finn crawled into bed, jacket on and all, and bringing with him the tissue box. “Thanks,” Poe whispered as Finn wrapped an arm around him.

“You're welcome, of course. You just let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“Okay, I... ahhhh GITShhhhhh! Hah ahhhhhh ahhhhhhh GIHChhuhhh!”

Finn kissed his cheek and handed him another tissue. “Bless you. Here you go. Wipe your nose and then get some rest. I'll watch over you.”

Poe nodded his thanks and rubbed at his nose, but Finn kept his arm tight around Poe. He couldn't remember feeling so cared for before when he felt so miserable, and he loved Finn passionately for it. He closed his eyes, eager for rest.

“That's good,” Finn's voice soothed him. “And when you wake up, I'll get you more tea and more cough drops if you need them.”

As Poe drifted off to sleep, the comment echoed in his mind. Wait, cough drops? Had Finn been the one to leave those things in his ship? How long had Finn known about his cold exactly? “I...”

“Shhhh.” Finn stroked his arm. “Just sleep. You had a long day. Can't believe you made it through both of those flights; you're such an amazing pilot. But even you need rest. We'll talk later when you feel up to it.”