[ it's not even that claustrophobic a setting; sure, there are a lot of people in here right now, bodies crammed together around different game tables and the bar itself is in a similar state, but it does feel like he's closer to poe right now than he would be, normally, conscious of everything from the sound of his shirt whispering against his jacket to the way his throat bobs when he clears it like that.
immediately, finn averts his eyes toward the ceiling like he's been caught staring, even though he knows he isn't guilty of anything, right? looking isn't touching. it's not even in the same category as touching.
but poe's remark about feeling warm brings out his concern, and that in itself beats out anything else he might be feeling; he redirects his attention to the other man and gently places a hand to his forehead with the intention of checking to see if he's spiked a fever.
well, that was a mistake. ]
You — you don't feel hot to me. [ his voice stutters to a low whisper, and for a split second it's like all other sound fades out in his hearing, everything save poe's breathing and his own body somehow tethered to that, hips unconsciously tilting when he so much as inhales. ]
no subject
immediately, finn averts his eyes toward the ceiling like he's been caught staring, even though he knows he isn't guilty of anything, right? looking isn't touching. it's not even in the same category as touching.
but poe's remark about feeling warm brings out his concern, and that in itself beats out anything else he might be feeling; he redirects his attention to the other man and gently places a hand to his forehead with the intention of checking to see if he's spiked a fever.
well, that was a mistake. ]
You — you don't feel hot to me. [ his voice stutters to a low whisper, and for a split second it's like all other sound fades out in his hearing, everything save poe's breathing and his own body somehow tethered to that, hips unconsciously tilting when he so much as inhales. ]