So, talking about it hadn't worked.

Technically, okay, he hadn't tried. But he thought it was pretty obvious, and would be even to the world's most in-denial optimist, that talking wouldn't fix whatever was going on between them. A big part of it, in fact, was that they couldn't talk about it - or that talking about it inevitably led to awkwardness and recriminations on both sides.

He didn't have much time to angst, though. His room computer delivered his orders for the day: he was due to report to one of the meeting rooms to discuss the defected HJs. The standard format orders came with a personal note from the General, too. "Keep your pants on. This is a positive development."

She was a clear communicator. He liked that about her.

When he entered the room, he saw the General and Luke sitting together, arms crossed and with identical serious expressions on their faces. "Augh. I'm sorry, General, but you guys look pretty dramatic for a meeting about a positive development."

"I'm told it's genetic," she said. "Thank you for coming."

"Orders are orders, ma'am."

"Would we be the Resistance if that were really true? Don't answer that. Would you like some tea?"

The General kept up small talk like that for for a solid five minutes before Finn realized that no one else was coming. "Thank you for the tea," he said, "but I'd like to know what's going on, please."

Luke stepped forward into the light, pulling his hood from his head. "The stormtrooper rebellion continues. We've received word of three other battalions defecting en masse."

"But that's not the worst part - or the best, for us," the General said. "You see, somehow, they're telling each other where to go. They're coming to us."

It sank into him like ultra-dense Tatooine sand. "And the First Order hasn't intercepted their communications?"

The General shook her head in confirmation. "To be honest with you, we're not even sure how they're communicating. If there's anything to intercept."

"You think they're using the Force?"

"We don't know enough to say either way," Luke said. "The stormtroopers we've received so far have not been as expected."

The mutinous anger in Finn coiled at that, ready to strike. "The people, you mean. Defectors. How are they doing in jail?"

The General sighed. "Finn -"

"No. You brought me here to ask me about stormtroopers, right? I think I should be able to ask some questions, too. Has the Republic decided we're people yet?"

For a moment, he thought she might tell him to go kriff himself. Her expression became durasteel, her fingers flexed like she was itching to reach out and slap him. In the time it took him to draw in another breath, he saw Vader lurking behind the General's eyes.

"Leia."

She didn't look away from Finn. "Not now, Luke."

"Yes, now. He's right; you know he's right. You've never gone out of your way to defend the politicians within the Republic before."

She closed her eyes and the terrifying fury disappeared. "They're cowards."

She didn't want to slap him, Finn realized. She wanted to strangle the Republic's Senators.

"Yes," Luke said.

"They'd sell entire towns before giving their daughters to the war effort, and they expect us to kill or imprison thousands of souls."

"We'll change their minds."

"Finn is a war hero who barely got citizenship." She opened her eyes again, directing a look at Luke that -

Well. Finn had only had brothers in arms, but he'd looked at them like that sometimes, when he thought they were being especially dumb.

"I spent a lot of social capital getting Finn a status that we're now demanding every single stormtrooper receive."

"Something like this must always be a demand," Luke said.

"I know that." And abruptly, Leia's focus returned to Finn. "How's your elocution?"

"My what?"

"Speech-giving."

"I know what it means. Why do you need to know?"

He saw a different person lurking in her expression now. "It's time we played offense with the centrists."

-

"Oh, that's a great idea," Rey said.

"Is it? I feel like I might vomit. And then die." Finn drummed his fingers on the canteen table. "I mean, the Senate is huge, and I'm not testifying in front of a committee, apparently, because that would make sense. It'll be in front of everyone."

"Luke will be there, and Leia. Probably me too, since I'm an apprentice and all."

"Great. More eyes on me. Thanks, Rey."

"Finn." She laid a hand on his shoulder, her eyes warm with sympathy. "It is terrifying. But it's still a great idea, you see?"

He didn't.

"You're a hero. Even to the centrists, what you did is beyond imagining. You have the power to advocate for others, to ensure that the Republic pulls further from the First Order's ideology. And you're convincing, like Leia; you have it in you. If I tried to testify I'd stumble over my words and try to fight someone. But you've got the ability to stand up and actually make people listen. You should use it."

"But I never got the reeducation. The kill switch, all of that stuff, it's not for me."

"All the more reason for you to be the person to argue for it. If you believe the kill switch is real, who's to gainsay you? Who in the Republic knows more about the First Order's methods than you do?"

It was a good point, unfortunately. Finn hadn't realized how little the rebels understood about the First Order; from the inside, fanaticism over withholding information had seemed unremarkable. Now, he understood how precarious it made the Resistance, how effective it was at ensuring the First Order stayed two steps ahead.

Whatever knowledge he carried around, he'd never been a commander. Four HJ squad leaders had defected. How much information did they carry? How many flaws, weaknesses, and exploitable vulnerabilities were being carried around in the minds of the five hundred imprisoned on their ship?

"They should be allowed to leave, too," Finn finally said. "We can't conscript them again. It wouldn't be right."

"Nothing the Republic wants to do with them is right. Push for the best treatment you can imagine, because they have no intention of giving an inch: you might as well go for broke."

He looked at her, at her hope-filled face, her hand clenched painfully tight on her staff. "Is this advice for me or you?"

"It's for all of us," she said, and flicked a grain of rice at his nose.

-

By her own admission, the General knew a lot more about politics than the Force; Finn had assumed that meant it would be easier to learn, less uncomfortable and esoteric. His hopes were dashed mere minutes into his first lesson. Everything mattered, apparently, when giving a speech: your posture had to be perfect, you had to pronounce everything correctly without sounding stilted, you had to make eye contact - but not too much eye contact.

Finn had asked what the security would be like, how people would know he wasn't using the Force to influence them; the General had laughed and reassured him that speeches given on the actual Senate floor were subject to all kinds of security protocols, after the discovery of all Darth Sidious had managed to do. But he still had to learn control. The General would fire rude and cruel questions at him, and he had to just stand there through them, wait till she was done to say his piece.

He needed this practice. He trusted her on that. But it also filled him with pointless fury, hearing cruel questions about the stormtroopers asked in that desultory, disaffected-politician voice.

It took two weeks before the General said he was ready enough to practice on other people. He had a whole speech on his holopad, but by that point he also had it memorized. His first test subject was Rey, who sat in wide-eyed silence through the whole thing before saying, "That was really beautiful, Finn, thanks for sharing it with me."

"But did it convince you to give the stormtroopers citizenship and allow them to join the Resistance?"

"Well, I already thought that. But you'd have to be heartless not to, so -"

Finn sighed. "Thanks, Rey."

The hug was nice, at least. And she was right: you would have to be heartless not to. Unfortunately, the Republic had an unlimited supply of heartless politicians.

What he really needed was someone cynical, someone unconvinced of his rhetorical points. Someone who knew what it was to be immoral and understood how First Order sympathizers thought.

He found Kylo in one of the Resistance's many exercise rooms, running through saber drills. "Hi," Finn said.

Kylo didn't quite stand at parade rest, but it was a close thing; his shoulders were knots of defensiveness that Finn didn't know how to counter. "Hello."

"I'm." Oration, Finn reminded himself. Persuasion. "I'm giving a speech in front of the Senate in a couple days, about the HJs who defected. It would be nice if -" No. "I'd like you to listen and offer criticism."

He had already known. He must have. No part of his expression betrayed even the slightest surprise. He said, "All right, then," and used the Force to toss the practice saber back on its rack, then sat down against the far wall. "Go ahead."

Finn had been imagining that they'd go to a common room, and he'd get a little more time to prepare. "Now?"

The ghost of a sneer touched Kylo's lips. "You won't feel ready when you're standing in front of thousands of Senators either, FN-2187."

It was an attempt at manipulation, and Finn knew it - but it worked anyway. "That's not my name," he said, and launched into his speech.

It had structure, the speech; it started with a description of his childhood, moved on to the many, many abuses and petty indignities adult stormtroopers suffered. Then it made a rhetorical argument about universal rights, then he pointed out that the Resistance was low on recruits and the Republic had hardly any military strength compared to the First Order. He'd written every single argument, he believed in each one of them with his entire soul, and he knew he delivered them strongly, persuasively. He had hoped Kylo would have feedback on the parts that were weaker from the point of view of an amoral authoritarian.

Kylo only watched, his face so blank Finn wasn't sure he was listening. Finn finished and stood there for a minute, waiting for some remark, bracing himself for it to be cutting.

Kylo said nothing.

"That's the end," Finn said. "In case you couldn't tell."

Force-users could do a lot of impossible stuff; Finn had been aware of that even before he'd known to count himself as one of them. But they couldn't teleport, even the really talented ones. Kylo must have stood up and walked over to him. There must have been a period of time in which Finn saw him moving and chose not to leave.

But no matter how hard he'd try to remember it later, that moment was lost. Finn hadn't moved an inch when Kylo reached him, and when Kylo kissed him, he surged forward, one hand moving to Kylo's hair to hold him in place, chasing the electric thrill that he felt when Kylo's rough fingers closed on the back of his neck.

Kylo was technically taller, but not by enough that Finn felt remotely intimidated. He thought, for a moment, that Kylo expected him to run away; he held a strange tension in his frame, a restraint that Finn wouldn't have anticipated from him.

Finn had learned how to fight at a very young age. He knew what a weakness looked like, and he knew how to exploit it. Kylo pushed forward, eager yet unsure, and Finn pushed back - shoved back, got Kylo against the nearest wall and kissed him with all his uncertainty and fury at the role he was being asked to play.

"It's unfair," he said when they broke apart for the first time, "I hate it, they're - I hate them."

"I know." Kylo muttered it, looking half ashamed. Well, Finn thought, of course he knew; he'd turned his back on the idea of democracy altogether.

Would Finn? Could Finn?

"You wouldn't," Kylo said. "You wouldn't, ever. You're too much like -" He paused and made a face.

And maybe it was the Force, or maybe Finn just knew Kylo pretty well by now. Both were strange to think about, but the end result was the same: "Like the General? That's really, really gross, given all of this." He waved a hand between them.

"Just - shut up," Kylo said, and kissed him again.

There was no control now, only a desperate unspoken plea. Finn responded to it instinctively, tugging Kylo's hair again, pressing against him harder until he couldn't quite move freely. It wasn't something he'd like, never something he would've done on his own, but this close, with the Force moving between them, he could tell it was what Kylo wanted.

Kylo's thoughts showed him all kinds of things, echoes of the images Finn had seen in their last shared dream. Kylo on his knees, Kylo fucking Finn, Finn holding him through it. It would have been hot - no, it was hot. But there was a thread of desperation in all the images, too, an incredible need that washed over Finn any time he turned his attention to Kylo.

He should have felt more conflicted about it, but Kylo projected incredible trust, such specific desire for him. Finn couldn't help himself: he turned towards Kylo like that need was a bonfire on Hoth, kissing Kylo again and again, holding his wrists in an almost-too-tight grip.

"Not here," he said when Kylo tried to get on his knees.

Kylo's lips were red and shiny, his breath coming in uncertain bursts. "I can - we won't be interrupted." Behind Finn, the room's doors slid shut. "I promise."

Finn thought about Kylo's focus failing at a key moment, and the General walking into find him bare-assed naked and on top of her son. Then he thought about stumbling down the hall with Kylo on his arm, both of them rumpled, Kylo with that mouth, and everyone seeing it.

"Oh, fine," he said, and sank to the floor with Kylo.

The room seemed very quiet when he kissed him again. Kylo made abortive movements to push Finn's jacket off, but then clung to him, kissing him over and over until Finn's lips stung. Only when Finn had to pull back to breathe did Kylo pull his shirt off, staring at him with wild eyes.

And that - that was the Force, Finn realized, not a person's hand, tugging his pants down.

He'd never gotten the impression that Kylo was particularly articulate or good with, well, anything related to emotions. True to form, his hands shook, he moved restlessly over Finn's neck, kissing and biting and making odd, half-whining noises in the back of his throat. But the Force that moved against Finn, undressing him, stroking his legs, pushing his thighs apart -

Touching his dick, so lightly at first, exploratory in a way that made Finn simultaneously think of course and oh no -

It was so controlled. Steady, precise touches that represented, Finn now knew, a truly terrifying command of the Force, power beyond anything Finn would hope to hold for himself.

"No," Kylo said, and bit his lip. "This is what you do. When you talk. When you persuade. This is why you don't miss. This is how you evaded them."

Them. Not us.

Finn couldn't say anything; his mind felt as chaotic as an asteroid belt and twice as dangerous. He kissed Kylo, over and over, until Kylo moved with desperation, back arching, hips thrusting so that Finn could barely hold onto him.

Whispering eddied over his ears, like water passing over cattails. He couldn't pay attention until suddenly he could: Kylo clenched his shoulders, fingertips digging into already-bruised muscle, and whispered, "Please, please, please."

"Okay," Finn said. "It's okay, you're fine, we're both okay."

"It's not that," Kylo said. "I just..."

He swallowed hard, dropping his head to Finn's shoulder. Finn opened his mouth to say something - having absolutely no plan about what something might be - but then gasped instead, as Kylo moved down to kiss his hip, mouth at his cock.

Finn was hard and leaking and at least as desperate as Kylo, but he'd long since learned to control it. He hadn't quite noticed until right now, with Kylo looking up at him through narrowed eyes, how desperate he was.

"You want this," Kylo said, very quietly. "You really do."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Finn would have liked to say he didn't know. He would have liked to lie. But Kylo's power still held him, a brush against his lips, a weight on his shoulders. For some reason, every part of him longed to reach out and find Kylo reaching back.

He shook his head, staring at the ceiling. "It's - a lot."

"I know," Kylo said, and then -

His mouth. But not just his mouth, since he was apparently determined to show off. Finn felt himself lifted in the air, Kylo's fingers pressing gently against his ass, moving inside when Finn moaned and pressed back against him. It was his turn to mindlessly talk, babbling - nonsense, about how good it was, how much more he wanted. He thought Kylo might pull off, but when Finn's hips started moving in spite of himself, when his fingers spasmed in Kylo's hair, Kylo only redoubled his efforts, staring up at Finn with impossibly dark eyes.

He came like that, into the heat of Kylo's mouth, with the Force holding him up and the landscape of Kylo's need surrounding him. It was a wonder he could even breathe, but he did, his breath coming out as wrenched gasps as Kylo fucked him through his orgasm.

He distantly felt himself lowered to the floor, so lightly and carefully that he barely noticed when his back made contact with the cool wood. His eyes had slid shut and he couldn't quite bring himself to open them, until he felt Kylo pulling back.

"Nope." He shot his hand out without thinking, closing on Kylo's wrist. When he opened his eyes, he saw Kylo staring at the far wall, looking oddly guilty, eyes shiny with feeling.

And hard. He was hard, kneeling on the floor, and the picture it made...

Finn didn't feel sleepy anymore. "We're not finished," he said, and tugged Kylo's wrist, unbalancing him and sending him toppling to the floor.

It was the easiest thing in the world to roll on top of him, kissing him, tasting himself in Kylo's mouth. When Kylo moaned it sounded like it'd been wrenched out of him, too loud and revealing. Finn kissed him again, and again, then pushed his legs apart, reaching between them.

He rubbed a thumb over the head of Kylo's dick, then said, "Do you want to fuck me?"

Kylo blinked up at him. "I - could."

But his cautious words didn't match what Finn could feel: more desperation, a really flattering amount of it, mixed up with admiration and something that -

He pulled away, even as Finn tried to figure out exactly what it might be. "Please," Kylo said.

Please don't push, said his tone. But also, please get me off.

Finn could work with that. He got himself ready, holding himself over Kylo, moaning when he saw the greedy way Kylo stared at him. He sank down on Kylo's cock with incredible ease. He wanted this so badly that he was already half-hard again, and he'd never seen anything as good as the way Kylo watched him when he thrust his hips, fucking himself and flexing around Kylo.

Kylo almost didn't touch him. Finn could feel his hesitation, so he said, "Touch me, you want this, I want this, I want to feel you come," and grabbed Kylo's hands again, placing them on his hips. He showed off a little, too, moving slowly and then faster, bringing Kylo to the edge and backing down again. It felt impossibly good like this, with Kylo beneath him, staring at him like he was some kind of rare astrological phenomenon.

Or just himself, laid bare and even more desirable for it.

Kylo didn't talk. He didn't try to flatter Finn or even send his feelings through the Force. He moaned, and he arched his body in a way that was, itself, a plea; his hands spasmed on Finn's hips when he came, sudden and hard enough to make Finn's head spin with it.

Only then did he say, "Come like this. Over me. I need - I want -"

Clumsy, Finn thought, and better for that. He leaned down to kiss Kylo, touching a hand to the wetness at the corner of his eye.

"Please," Kylo said again, not quite looking at Finn. "This is so - you're - perfect, so good, I need - please, please."

Finn couldn't tell him no. It only took a few long pulls, Kylo's incoherent words of praise in his ears, before he came, hard and messy and all over Kylo's blotchy, flushed skin.

He collapsed on top of Kylo after that and just lay there, heart pounding like it had the first time he'd gone up into space. The vacuum of space had at least been a known quantity. It had terrified Finn much less than this small, fragile thing between them now.

Kylo pulled away first. He made a face like he hated the mess of it all, then glanced at Finn guiltily.

"It's okay," Finn said. "I, uh. I was kind of awkward about my first time, too."

It had been the wrong thing to say, to an absolutely epic degree. Kylo turned as red as his own lightsaber and said, "It wasn't my first time!"

Finn opened his mouth to protest, found his mind too full of comebacks, closed it again, and just looked at Kylo. The redness persisted.

"It counts if it's a Force dream," Kylo finally mumbled.

Finn stared. Then stared some more. "Please tell me you've had a Force dream with someone who's not me."

"Well," Kylo said, and looked at the far wall again.

Finn had no idea what to say, so he settled on nothing. The coolness of the air reasserted itself; the first time Finn shivered, Kylo said, "We should go," and hopped to his feet like nothing interesting had happened at all. He offered Finn a hand; Finn helped him straighten his collar.

They walked back to their respective rooms separately, both looking perfectly ordinary. They didn't meet in dreams that night.

-

He wasn't exactly at his best during his next shift. Every time he tried to think of something important - Galaran and Calla's assignments, say, or progress in the Senate for his proposed reforms - his mind returned to Kylo falling apart under his hands, Kylo whispering praise to him as Finn came all over them both. It wasn't just distracting; it was some obscure step beyond that, horrifying and alluring at the same time.

Kind of like Kylo himself, Finn's brain piped up, and he groaned.

So he wasn't at his best when he went to see the General. Normally, he'd have noticed the second person in her living room long before the General said, "Senator, stop lurking over there and come meet my protegé."

"Lurking?" Finn said, then: "Protegé?"

The woman he'd only just noticed came into the light and smiled at him. "Leia has told me about you many times. I think that's an accurate descriptor. I'm glad for it; the galaxy needs more politicians."

"We're full up on flyboys," the General said with a wry smile.

"Ha," Finn said. "I'm sorry, I just - don't meet, uh, Senators much."

"My understanding is you're to meet quite a few soon."

Finn managed not to yell 'don't remind me!', but it was a near thing. "That's very true. It's great to meet you, Senator. I'm Finn."

"And you represent the stormtroopers."

"I don't know if I do."

"Insomuch as they have representation, it's you." The Senator held out her hand. "I'm Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila. It's wonderful to meet you."

She held herself with the kind of composure that Finn couldn't help but be jealous of. "Chandrila. I've been there."

"As yourself, or as FN-2187?"

It seemed like really presumptuous phrasing. But then Finn got it: this was how people would talk, when he took the floor to give his speech. This was practice.

"I was myself all along," Finn said. "But I did see Chandrila when I wasn't free."

"What did you think of it? Or, I suppose the more pertinent question -" And here her eyes flicked to the General. "How did you feel about it?"

The General had been giving him lessons on the Force, on control, on how to navigate through the world with a power he didn't understand or even really care about. This was a different kind of lesson. "You have to have control," she'd told him more times than he could count. "Without control, they will eat you alive. The stakes are too high for that."

Control. Right. "I wasn't really allowed to feel anything, Senator," Finn said. "I used the Force to hide myself. I kept my head down. It's a pretty terrible way to live, but since freeing myself, I've come to realize that the stormtroopers aren't the only ones keeping their heads down, so to speak. That's the only way to stay alive in the Empire."

She nodded, approval in her expression. "Thank you for your explanation, Finn. I find it...fascinating. And of course, I'm sorry for your loss, and for your captivity. We have not done enough; I will support all efforts to fix that."

This was a political commitment. The General had taught him how to recognize it, primarily because, in her words, "It's the opposite of anything you'll ever hear from an imperial goon, and that's why you need to keep an ear out."

Accordingly, he nodded and said, "Thank you, Senator. I think I speak for all the defectors when I say your support will be greatly appreciated."

Instead of dismissing him, Senator Mothma glanced at the General, then back at Finn. For a moment her posture changed, and Finn saw her hesitate, the space between thought and action that he'd been trained to take advantage of - to use as an ingress for execution.

Then she said, "When I was a girl, I believed myself growing up in a glorious, peaceful future. When I was a younger Senator, I believed that the despotism of my girlhood had been permanently ended. And now, I find myself hoping, once again, to see peace in my lifetime. I know you can't singlehandedly bring it to me. But I must say, I find what the General has told me of you, of the Jedi apprentice Rey, of her pilots, of her son's recovery, to be the strongest evidence for hope I've seen in a long while." She reached up and unclasped her necklace. The delicate chain held a single teardrop of some type of kind of iridescent rock. "Please, take this. It indicates my station on Chandrila, and serves as a kind of...talisman...other places. I hope, if you need it, it will serve you."

Finn let her drop it into his hand. Then he looked at the General, totally at a loss for what to say or do.

"Thank you, Senator," the General said.

It kicked Finn back into gear. "I'm honored." He closed his hand around the necklace, tucking it in his pocket. "More than I can say, really. Thank you."

A few minutes of small talk later, Senator Mothma left. Finn half expected some kind of debriefing, but the General only moved on to how Finn could use his natural strength with the Force without actually committing ethical violations in the Senate, or setting off any alarms.

"Isn't that still an ethical violation?"

"No," the General said. "If you were using your skill to influence people, then of course it would be. But the Force exists in us and around us whether we want it to or not; you can't opt out of it. People who will never know they're stronger with the Force use it all the time. There's a difference between using your skill and teachings as a tool, and - as an example - sensing the moods of those around you. The latter is empathy; the former is, without the appropriate venue, manipulation. I'm talking about using the latter."

It almost sounded like the kind of equivocating nonsense Kylo would have said, back when Snoke still had more influence over him. But the General said it with honest conviction, and Finn knew - couldn't pretend otherwise - that she believed it, and meant what she was saying. And -

He couldn't turn it off. That much was true. Now that he knew how to recognize the Force, he understood that he'd always used it, been in touch with it; he wouldn't deliberately bend people's minds during his speech, but he had to accept he couldn't turn it off entirely.

And so, he learned how to tell when his speech was entering unpopular territory, how to balance the things that were hard to say or unpopular with the things that would get cheers out of the crowd, the best way to pitch his voice, how to appeal to specifically powerful allies in the audience.

It was exhausting. The General, in some ways, drove him harder than Phasma ever had. She knew she was asking a lot of him, but as she said, "I can't expect you'll ever get another opportunity like this. It's my responsibility to make sure it's worth it."

Worth it, Finn thought. Galaran and Calla and hundreds of other nameless soldiers, hovering somewhere between helpless and deadly, depending on the charity of the person who had control over them that day. Yeah, it was worth it, and so he kept pushing.

He didn't see Kylo much in the lead-up to the Senate session. It was for the best, as far as Finn was concerned. The thought of trying to deal with - all of that - on top of the very real concerns of the defected stormtroopers was just too much.

Securing the future of the five hundred defectors was his first priority. It had to be. It didn't matter that he sometimes made eye contact with Kylo and felt his heart flip over in his chest - that he kept catching himself thinking of how it had felt to kiss Kylo, to have the Force and Kylo's hands on him in equal measure. None of that, he told himself over and over, was important. Not in the grand scheme of things.

It might feel important, but feelings could lie. No one knew that better than Finn.

Two nights before he was due to give his speech before the assembly, he found himself walking down a long, harshly lit hallway. It reminded him of a hospital or one of the lower levels of Starkiller Base; he shied away from the bright lights and cast his mind about for a way to escape the dream.

"I just want to stop feeling it," said Kylo's unmistakable low voice from the nearest open door.

Finn crept closer, keeping out of sight. Another voice, one Finn almost thought he recognized, said, "That's understandable, but I'm afraid we don't provide that kind of care here."

"There are ways to do it," Kylo said. "Memory modification, targeted emotion dampening -"

"Indeed, there are dozens of ways to accomplish what you think you want. None of them are considered ethical. I apologize, but I can't help you."

A low, furious noise. "Then what am I supposed to do about it? About him?"

"I suggest honest communication."

"That's useless to me."

Finn took a step forward in spite of himself - what was going on? Was this a memory, or something worse? - and the hallway faded around him.

"Wait - no! Come on."

"It's rude to snoop," Kylo said from behind him.

Finn world around on newly-solid ground. They stood in a market this time, on a planet Finn didn't recognize, peopled mostly with finely dressed Humans.

"This is New Alderaan," Kylo said. "Famous for its shops."

"I should be able to hear your thoughts, too."

"You can, if you concentrate. If you don't shut me out."

Finn narrowed his eyes and did as Kylo suggested. He felt a faint buzz - tension, guilt, fear -

"Right," he said, pulling away. "I remembered why I don't do this: your head is a pain."

"I find it interesting that yours isn't," Kylo said. "You have a long history of horrible experiences, and yet..."

Finn really had meant to withdraw from Kylo's thoughts, but he heard the end of the sentence anyway: you're peaceful. "It's hard-won peace," he said. "You have to want it, and work for it."

Kylo hadn't wanted peace for a long time. Finn nodded. "Yeah, I know. That's why."

For a moment Kylo only stared at him, eyes dark, equal parts impassive and alluring.

Alluring? Get a grip, Finn told himself.

"Come to dinner with me," Kylo said.

"I don't like following orders anymore," Finn said. "I mean. I hope it'd be obvious why."

"Yes," Kylo said.

Still staring at him. It was getting awkward.

"This is really weird," Finn said.

The street around them faded, and they sat in a beautifully appointed restaurant. "I apologize," Kylo said, and reached across the table, taking his hand.

His skin felt warm and dry. The contact sent a jolt of sensation through Finn, hard and hot and heavy. And the thing was - okay. They had been to lots of different places, on lots of different - just admit it, Finn! - dates. In dreams, at least. Still, it counted; if it didn't, Finn would've found it easier to think about.

He wanted this to be more. He wanted to actually discuss how it had been the last time they were together, Finn riding him, the way Kylo had clung to him, all the terror and weird almost-joy. Or, short of discussion, he wanted to experience it again.

"Finn," Kylo said, staring at him.

He was blushing. He blushed so much, around Finn. It made Finn want to reach out and touch his cheeks, press his thumbs against those high spots of color, lean in and -

"I had hoped to get dinner," Kylo said, and the table disappeared, Kylo was in his lap, kissing him with hunger that felt like fire racing through Finn's veins -

He woke into sudden stillness. For a moment, his heart pounded as though he'd taken a step off a cliff. When he calmed down enough to take note of his surroundings, he realized he was achingly hard, still reaching out with the Force towards Kylo.

He shut it down as soon as he realized. Then he reached down, got a hand on himself, and made himself come, thinking of Kylo, his soft skin and broad mouth, his intensity and his fear and his absolute impossibility.

-

He hadn't been sure what to expect, the day of the assembly. They'd traveled to the temporary home of the Senate, a moon in the Inner Rim. Each Senator had a small chamber to themselves; the General had told Finn to treat her space as his own, and so he'd anticipated a big, lonely room with time to meditate and rehearse his speech.

Instead, the General was there, along with Rey, Luke Skywalker, Poe, Pava, a few of the techs, Galaran, Calla, and - in a corner, by himself, glowering at nothing - Kylo.

It was Rey he approached and hugged. "Pretty sure this is what death feels like," he murmured into her ear.

"Nonsense," she said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

They looked at each other as Finn thought about long-term loss of stormtrooper independence.

"Right," Rey said. "Still, though. You can do it. You will do it, and you'll be amazing."

She had been training as a Jedi for awhile now, and she spoke with power and a kind of conviction that Finn knew didn't come naturally to her. It floored him, to have that determination and certainty applied to him.

"Rey -" His throat got tight; he realized that he had no idea what he might say to express how he felt, his heart growing, so much more certain of his own belonging than he had been before. "Thanks," he finally said. "Like - really, thank you."

She understood what he couldn't say. She hugged him again, tight, before kissing his cheek and going over to talk to the General.

Poe, in contrast, clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Remember that time we were running that defense drill and the TIE fighters came through, four of 'em?"

"And I gunned them all down while yelling at you?" Finn half-laughs. "Yeah, I remember."

"This is probably going to be worse than that," Poe said with an executioner's cheer. "But I believe in you, buddy."

It was another hour of that kind of reassurance, the sort Finn had begun to think of as being unique to the Resistance: fatalistic, kind of morbid, but somehow uplifting all the same. Then he had to go into his seat for the Senate session.

The head of the Senate called the meeting into order, and then they were off. The entire session had been devoted to stormtrooper personhood. Finn had come prepared to hear plenty of nonsense, and his expectations were fulfilled over the first hour of speeches. Stormtroopers were dangerous, citizenship in the Republic couldn't be simply assumed, and so on: it was nothing Finn hadn't heard before, and while it all still had the power to torment him, he certainly felt less in thrall to these people's opinions than he might have in the past. Three hours and forty minutes into the debate, he was called to give his testimony.

He stood, as promised, on a platform overlooking thousands of Senators. His likeness was recorded by no fewer than two hundred cameras. If he looked down, he'd see a dizzying array of Senate boxes, all holding people of enormous importance, who held some fractional power over the HJs' future.

And then there was the Force, entwining around every single one of them. He'd thought of it - he'd tried to think of it - as something he could ignore, or work around, for his speech. The Force still seemed esoteric most of the time, definitely real but maybe not worth working with any more than came naturally. Right now, though, he felt it as surely as he felt his own skin.

He felt all the fear, the hope, the sheer determination coming from all the Senators. He felt the weight of history, the pain and triumph that each member carried. This was a failed political body trying to make itself real again. He wasn't particularly important in the scheme of things; they might never remember him, even though what he said would, to him, be the most important ordeal of his life.

He kind of wanted to barf. Instead, he spoke.

"Hi, I'm Finn. Some of you might know me as, uh, a traitor. Or an applicant for citizenship. I'm also a member of the Republic, and it's in that capacity that I have come to testify on behalf of my siblings in the First Order's army."

He went on from there. His siblings, the former stormtroopers, were blameless; they were pawns in the worst kind of political games, they'd been brainwashed, they were innocent. He talked about missing his parents, slowly forgetting what they looked like over time. He talked about first worshiping, then fearing, Phasma. He talked about how he'd been forced to see himself as something other than a person: "We can't be the same as the villages we decimate, after all."

He talked about hope. He talked about sentient rights. He talked about the Force, and the universal truth that the Republic could serve, if they were brave enough to recognize the concept of universal rights once more.

And he couldn't shut it off. The Force moved before him, in him. He felt anger from Mandalore, terror from New Alderaan, fury from Riosa. He felt hopelessness from Poe, a brief and terrifying stab of it that was almost immediately pushed out by determination, love, anger, fury.

Finally, he finished. Per protocol, no one applauded, or said much of anything to him at all. He retreated into the private room, leaving the Senate box proper to the General.

Rey was waiting for him with tears in her eyes. "You know, I thought I was ready, I'd heard the speech already. It still - oh, Finn." She caught him in a fierce embrace, holding him tightly to her as his heart pounded.

"Good job, buddy," Poe said. BB-8 beeped in agreement.

Finn didn't, couldn't, look at Kylo. He hoped that he was proud, like the rest of them, or at least happy with how well Finn had done. But-

If he wasn't. If he didn't agree, or if he thought Finn had made a fool of himself, or if he'd only noticed the flaws in Finn's speech.

Finn just didn't want to know, was all. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

The Senate session lasted three planet-measured days, during which the General had them all travel back to Yavin 4. Finn barely slept the whole time. He couldn't do anything else; he was, in fact, being strictly monitored for evidence of undue influence. Given what he knew about Snoke, Darth Sidious, and the whole messy history of Republic politics, Finn knew the monitoring made sense. But those days still dragged on, terrifying, interminable. He only saw Galaran and Calla a few times, but he always felt like they were on a terrifying wavelength together. Maybe today they'd all be made fully people in the eyes of the New Republic.

But then again, maybe not.

On the fourth day, he woke to the news, which someone had helpfully placed on his bed in datachip form: personhood for all defected stormtroopers demonstrating use of the kill switch had been ratified. Overnight, the Resistance's membership had grown twenty percent. It was an unequivocal victory, and several New Republic papers credited Finn's speech with turning the tide of sentiment towards full citizenship.

"Finn," the General said at breakfast, clutching both his hands. "I wanted to be the first - well, one of the first - to wish you congratulations."

Finn felt half like barfing and half like telling BB-8 to put on the party music. Absent anything better, he said, "It's half due to you, General."

But the General, ever honest and determined to tutor the younger generations, shook her head. "You're the one who won them over. You brought me hope I didn't realize I was missing. You -"

But then she paused, clearly reconsidering what she was about to say. Since half her lessons had been related to diplomacy, Finn hesitated, not wanting to demand an answer.

"You make me think we can win," she said finally, "with a certainty I didn't think I'd ever feel again."

Before he could answer, or even swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, Rey tackled him. "Finn!"

What followed was half a party, as everyone who'd ever even met him showed up to congratulate him on his speech and the vote. Finn shook all their hands, saying thank you what felt like a million times; it was important, it was, and he truly was grateful. But he was even more glad when the parade of congratulations slowed down, and he could stand on the General's balcony, looking up at the night sky and taking deep breaths of crisp air.

He had done it. He had really, really done it. Galaran and Calla and all the others would be safe. They had a path forward, and a powerful weapon to wield within it. He wiped away tears, shivering a little, as his mind slowly calmed.

One of the stars moved.

He recognized the pattern before he even consciously tried to process it. Three stars that weren't stars, convening on the moon in a formation only used by -

"First Order," he breathed, then turned, yelling. "The First Order! Sound the alert! Poe, Rey -" He had the Force. He could - Rey. The First Order's found us, they're attacking. Tell Luke!

He got something back from her, panic and acknowledgment and then a brilliant flash of fury that lit up the connection just before it went quiet. For a moment Finn thought he felt something else, but -

The base alarm sounded, and Poe grabbed his shoulder. "Gunner?"

"Gunner," Finn said, and they ran towards a ship together, BB-8 rolling ahead of Poe.

Up in the sky, everything was very clear. This wasn't the final assault, Finn knew, only a kind of exploratory attack, meant to soften up their defenses for the next wave of troops. The Resistance, of course, had experienced those tactics before, and Poe gave off rapid-fire instructions for pilots to convene on the ships, drive them back, even as evac efforts started on the ground.

But something - something was off. Finn didn't connect the dots until they landed, hours later, to refuel and coordinate the pilots' evacuation.

Exploratory attack. But why launch one against the Resistance's primary base, the number one place they'd be likely to have evac plans for? Unless, of course, evac wouldn't matter, because you had bigger fish waiting for them, cloaked just outside of planetary orbit.

He ran to find the General, barreling through multiple high-ranking officers on his way in. It only took her a second to get what he was telling her, and then she said, "All right, Finn knows what he's talking about with this. Let's ready our defenses: we can prepare for a siege, too."

As the command room emptied, the General turned to Finn and said, "We could really use more of that inside info. Any idea where they'll attack from if we don't try to run?"

Finn was going to deny it, or point out that when you were a military base on the ground, they could attack from almost anywhere. Then he thought: HJs. Intelligence.

"I don't know. But I know who will."

Calla got them the First Order's confidential communication band; Galaran got the quantum keys necessary to actually listen in. And so they heard Phasma snarling, "Kill them all. Every single one of those traitorous little cockroaches. Except for FN-2187. If you find him, bring him to me."

Every eye in the room was on Finn just then. He closed his eyes and did his best to think of the Force, not Phasma -

Beating him, again and again. Trying to kill him. Successfully killing him.

"Bit of a dramatic assassination attempt, don't you think?" the General said. Finn opened his eyes to find her looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and worry. She reached out with the Force, and he met her in kind, letting her stream security and surety to him.

That's one of the best things about the Force, she'd once told him. If you can't feel it just then, someone else probably can.

"Okay," he said. "I'll deal with Phasma. No," he said when Calla opened her mouth to argue, "I should, you know I should. They've got multiple battalions: pass the kill switch around. Get as many as you can, stun the rest."

"The kill switch isn't magic," Galaran said. "Some of them will still be loyal."

"We'll deal with those, too," the General said. "Don't let me down, Finn."

It wasn't a threat, like it would've been with the First Order. It was an expression of faith and hope, something Finn needed desperately. He saluted and left.

If it wasn't for the weird ripple in the Force as he ran for a ship, Finn likely would've flown to the troop carrier without seeing Kylo standing off to one side. As it was, Finn found himself screeching to a halt in the middle of the chaos and grabbing Kylo's wrist.

"What are you," he said. It felt like his brain was buzzing. This wasn't - he wanted -

He might die. Oh, kriff, either of them might die.

"I have to go. Phasma's up there. I -"

"I know," Kylo said. "I was listening."

They'd had sex. But of course it was more than that. Finn wanted so desperately to reach out, but the whole room teemed with people. Someone would see, someone would know.

He might die. They both might die. Kylo, Finn knew, would be grounded, helping the various non-combatant members of the Resistance. He wouldn't get anywhere near a fight unless things went very, very badly.

It occurred to Finn, with the kind of clarity he usually only got at the tail end of annoyingly long meditation sessions, that he didn't really care if other people saw him kissing Kylo. Especially not if the alternative was dying wishing he'd been just a little braver.

"Take care of yourself," he said, and stepped forward.

Kylo's eyes widened. Finn wanted to say, now? Now is when you decide to be afraid? But he didn't get a chance: even as terror emanated from him, Kylo leaned down to kiss Finn hard, both hands cupping his head, pulling him back so they were pressed together toe to shoulder.

Finn only broke away because he had to breathe, but then the noise around them faded back into his awareness. "I have to -"

"Go," Kylo said.

And come back, rippled between them, mutual understanding carried on the Force as Finn launched himself up into the sky.

The First Order must've known that the Resistance would have better intel now, but apparently they had enough firepower on this trip not to care. They hung in a formation that Finn had already memorized before his tenth birthday. Phasma would be on the destroyer in the center, the biggest ship by far. If she was smart, she'd hide a little better - but Phasma's desire for glory had always outweighed everything else, even her not-too-shabby strategic know-how.

They didn't even try to shoot his plane down. The destroyer's hatch opened and let him in; he disembarked to find himself surrounded by stormtroopers, but none of them tried to shoot him.

He'd been right, then. They wanted him alive.

"Take me to Phasma," he told the VX on his left.

Another VX stepped up behind him. He had a half-second to hear the whine of a stunner -

And then he was out.

-

He woke to feel his wrists bleeding from the too-tight cuffs keeping his arms behind him. His shoulders screamed in pain. He tried to leap to his feet, to find some advantage - to fight - but he couldn't move his legs.

For a moment he thought they'd taken them, and he tried to scream.

A shock went through him, head to toe. "I wouldn't do that, were I you," Phasma said. Her voice echoed in the fathomless darkness. "You're tied down, FN-2187, in a reconditioning chair. I had doubted the reports claiming you had never experienced one before. I see now that they were accurate."

"I swear to you, when I get out of here, I'm going to -"

"Hush now," Phasma said, and the jolt of electric shock went through him again.

He faded in and out after that. He was aware of being held, of invasion: the Force, yes, but also technological invasion, a droid placing sensors on his forehead and flipping on some kind of machine. It told him, you want to kill. It told him, these are the traitors, and showed him Galaran and Calla - the HJs. An entire company of HJs. Your designation is FN-2187. Kill the traitors. Kill the traitors. Kill the traitors.

He tried to tell it no, and at first that worked. He pushed back, with the Force, with his own determination. Once, he'd used skills he didn't even realize he had to hide from this exact invasion. Now, he knew enough about the Force to grasp the monstrosity of what was being done in this room, the sheer brutality that Phasma hoped to use to program him as the Resistance's first, and last, traitor.

It couldn't happen; it wouldn't happen. The HJs were going to be citizens. Free people, as they were meant to be. Finn would die before he let anyone change that. He would die. He would die. He...

Was not Finn, the program whispered. He was FN-2187, loyal servant to the Supreme Leader. A soldier, fierce and feared as all the best soldiers are. Feel your strength, FN-2187. Feel your skill. These and more were granted to you by your commanders. You exist to serve.

No, he said, or thought, I am Finn, I am a rebel, I exist -

To serve. To kill. Kill them. Kill the traitors. Earn your place. Earn love.

No.

Yes.

"No!"

He'd never know if his mind gave out first, or if his body did. He woke free of his bonds, exhausted and disoriented. He tried to think of his name several times, but it slipped from his grasp. Had he had one? He wasn't sure anymore. He dressed in the clothes they gave him, and waited for instructions.

Phasma entered the room. He remembered her. She had backhanded him, kicked him...taught him to serve. As he must serve now.

"You will go to the Resistance base, eliminate the traitorous defectors, capture the leader, and bring her to us," Phasma said.

"Yes," he said. It lived in his bones now, the need to obey.

"You will destroy all evidence of the kill switch. It no longer exists."

"Yes."

"All hail the Supreme Leader."

He saluted. She turned to leave.

They were orders he would follow. He had just been taught, and he would do so. He could not fathom doing anything else. But in her haste and will to power, Phasma had forgotten the basics. He lived to serve the Supreme Leader.

Phasma was not the Supreme Leader.

His blade struck true, frying flesh on contact. She died instantly, her head separated from her body.

He took her two guns, and his own blade, and went to find a ship.

-

Poe Dameron answered his ship's hail on his way back into atmosphere. "Finn! Boy, buddy, am I glad to see you."

The rebels had beaten back most of the First Order. It was good news for them; he would pretend to be happy for as long as it took to reach the HJs. "Glad to see you too, Poe. Phasma's dealt with. She won't be bothering us again."

"That's great news. We canceled the evac - they weren't ready for us. We're safe for now."

"They'll send more."

"We'll be long gone by then. I'm calling in all ships; tonight, we get to celebrate."

He landed and clapped the rebels on the back, affecting joy. It was easy: soon he'd be back under his helmet, executing the orders of the Supreme Leader, living out his purpose. Even Rey didn't realize anything had changed. She hugged him tight and kissed both his cheeks, then said, "You should find Kylo. He was asking after you."

Kylo Ren. It shivered through his brain, a sliver of something -

But he forgot, even as he tried to remember. "Yeah, I'll do that," he said, and disengaged himself from her, going to find the subjects of his orders.

He didn't see the named HJs, the traitors who made his heart beat in double time with hatred. He would have to deal with them eventually. But the others were all together, kept in a complex where the rebel scum could watch them. They weren't treated with the respect that they were owed. They should be freed, he thought, in death; if they couldn't serve the Supreme Leader, it was better to go that way.

He opened the door of the complex and walked inside.

"Finn."

He turned. Kylo Ren stood in the doorway, watching him with narrowed eyes. He recalled what the traitor might do, and smiled. "It's good to see you."

"Is it?"

"Of course." Walk forward, grab his head, kiss him. Easy enough. Pathetically easy, really; Kylo Ren's shields were down, his affection there for anyone sufficiently curious to explore.

He was curious. He kissed Kylo Ren, reaching back for his blaster.

"Eugh, you guys, get a room."

He eased his hand to his front again before stepping away. He had been instructed to exercise restraint, stealth. This execution would have to wait. He turned his head and saw the traitor who'd named himself Galaran, standing a few paces behind Kylo Ren. "Finn," Galaran said. "You got Phasma?"

A thrill of joy went through him. "I did."

"Man. Congrats." Galaran hugged him.

Kylo Ren hung back, watching him with dark eyes. Why? He didn't understand. The affection there seemed unnatural. Had the rebels brainwashed him, as they'd done the other HJs? What created a traitor? Why did they want to stay here?

A shiver of electricity in his mind: don't ask questions. He flinched.

"You okay?" Kylo Ren said quietly.

"Sure." Another smile. The smile distracted people, he'd noticed. "Just glad we won the day, that's all."

Kylo Ren nodded and said, "I have to go make my report. I'll see you at dinner?"

And after. That was arousal, he knew, messy and complicated desire. Disgusting, whispered the back of his mind.

"Of course," he said.

Kylo Ren nodded and left.

The one called Galaran eyed him. "You seem awfully cheerful."

"Oh, I am," he said, and drew his blaster.

The HJ inhaled in a hiss of breath, holding his hands up. "Finn..."

"That's not my name." He set the blaster to kill. "I'm here to execute the will of the Supreme Leader. You and the other HJs are traitors."

"Oh, Finn. They got you, didn't they? On the destroyer."

"Of course not. They simply restored erroneous settings."

"They have a whole system for it, you know. They'll send any of us who deviate even a tiny bit to be reconditioned. It's torture, Finn. That's why we ran." He spoke the kill switch then.

But the switch had been reprogrammed already. It had no effect on him. "Teaching us to be useful to the Supreme Leader isn't torture."

"Isn't it? Didn't it hurt? Didn't you want to know why they were hurting you?"

Don't ask why, that threatening voice whispered again. He felt himself flinch. "Shut up," he said, and aligned the blaster again, ready to deliver the killing blow.

"Finn." He took several steps back. "Finn, don't do this."

"That's not my name. I don't have a name."

"That's not how you want to live. They'll shoot you before you get back in the sky, and you want to do this for people who don't let you have a name?"

"For the glory of the Supreme Leader." He tightened his grip. "To end a deviation that never should have existed."

"Your hands are shaking."

Kylo Ren had returned. He stood several paces from Galaran, not close enough to save him. Not close enough to get shot himself.

He looked at the blaster. Yes, his hands were trembling. So what? He'd gone through a lot, to restore his loyalty, to be made whole again after years of -

Why am I doing this -

Lies. "Shut up," he snarled, and tried to pull the trigger.

He didn't move. He couldn't. And even as Kylo Ren said, "Finn, come back to us," he felt -

Shocks. Shocks through the back of his mind that made him drop his blaster, and then Kylo Ren said, "Finn, you need to fight this," and he remembered.

Hiding. He had screamed for it, hoped for it. The droid and the sheer darkness of the force had conspired to press him down, smaller and smaller until he'd made himself almost nothing. It had almost been easy, it had almost felt safe; who was 'Finn', anyway, but a collection of traits he'd hoped to have for himself? The droid had whispered to him that he wasn't brave, he wasn't strong, he wasn't a person: he was only a cowardly traitor, easily disposed of, simple to mold into a good soldier once again.

But he had never been a good soldier. He had always resisted. If his name hadn't been Finn before he'd met Poe, he had still been himself, questioning, wondering. Hiding, yes, because hiding was how he'd survived. But he had always been a person.

Another painful zap in the back of his mind, seeking to coerce him back into compliance. But - no. He fell to his knees, pushing back, memories of the General's instruction rushing back into him. The Force was present all around him, as it had been on the ship, but here it wasn't corrupted, wasn't bent to horrific use.

Finn was so tired. He felt it down to his bones, exhaustion that made him want to give up, recede into his own mind, let the programming take over. But Galaran was watching him - and Calla had come too, and some of the other HJs, standing in a ring behind Kylo. Kylo himself had a hand at his waist, ready to pull a blaster on Finn.

He had the presence of mind to think: good. Don't let me hurt anyone. But then -

They had made him watch the raid on Jakku over and over, erasing the hesitance he'd felt, the pain, the horror at seeing children gunned down. Phasma thought that was where it had started, but of course, she was wrong. Earlier, much earlier, he'd been more than just an FN; he'd had the spark of the Force burning in him, and it made him want more. It made him want. He questioned, he thought, he was his own person, and he knew that Phasma hated that. The entire First Order hated that.

It had to be his strength now. He curled his hands into fists, shoving them in his pockets. Something bumped against his knuckle then, a cold, smooth object that he half remembered: the channeling device that Kylo Ren had given him, ostensibly for meditation. A pathetic display of sentiment, whispered the evil voice in his mind.

Pathetic. But smooth and somehow alluring, comforting to touch. The Force was the province of superstitious fools, they had taught him. He was not of the Force and the Force did not move within him. But -

He had carried the channeling device for a long time, never thinking of it. It should have been nothing, but the Force cared very little for the distinctions between sentient and not sentient, alive and inert. He felt power, shaped by his own hands, flow into him.

Kill the traitors! shrieked that awful voice.

His mind again seized up, his muscles twitched. He had hid so well for so many years. Now he needed to use that power to push through, to regain control, to say -

"No," he whispered, and he felt the conditioning break.

It had been brittle to begin with. It hurt as it fell away, like actual glass had been embedded in his veins. He became aware, after many minutes, of large hands on his shoulders, holding him up. Lips pressed into his forehead, and a voice whispered, "Finn, come on. Come back to us."

He opened his eyes and stared at Kylo. The talisman fell from his numb fingers, hitting the ground.

"Oh, thank you," Kylo breathed. Finn hoped Kylo wasn't talking to him: he had no confidence, right now, in his ability to speak at all. He closed his eyes again and leaned forward, allowing Kylo to support his entire weight, his mind - his mind, only his - going fuzzy and then, finally, quiet.

-

In the infirmary that night, he dreamed.

Kylo leaned against a stone column in a temple on a temperate planet that Finn had never been to. The breeze ruffled his hair. The whole picture was very romantic, and Finn felt vaguely betrayed by his own subconscious for coming up with it.

"Are you Finn?" Kylo said. "Or has the reconditioning come back?"

"You mean brainwashing," Finn said.

Kylo's lips quirked up in a near-smile. Finn felt his chest twist in, yup, that was arousal, even here, even after what probably qualified as one of the worst days of his life. "So you are back."

"I guess so." Finn looked around, at the green fields, the butterflies making their way down the ancient-looking corridor. "Could I dream this if I wasn't?"

"It seems unlikely, but then, they meant to entrap you."

Finn heard anger there: hot, sick, equal parts thrilling and absolutely chilling. "Would you have killed me?"

"Excuse me?"

He hadn't meant to ask it, had spoken entirely on dream-forced impulse, but now he found he needed to know. "Before I shot Galaran. Would you have -"

"Of course."

The one comforting thing about this being Kylo Ren, first of the Knights of Ren, terror of the Resistance and intergalactic criminal, was that Finn believed him. He gained nothing by lying, and Finn knew he was capable of it. "Good."

"That's not how I would describe it."

"No, I guess you wouldn't. I owe you thanks."

"For the talisman? It was nothing. A pin, when you needed a saber."

"It helped me bring myself back. That's not nothing." Finally, Finn looked back at him. He felt his gut wrench. He wanted - so many things, really, an impossible litany. But right now, more than anything, he wanted to close the space between himself and Kylo, to touch him and reassure himself that he, Finn, was still capable of being himself.

It terrified him. He'd been so close to losing himself entirely, and to look at Kylo and see a touchstone -

He didn't want to. But he did want to, also.

"When we wake up," Finn said, and stopped to breathe through it. "When we wake up. Find me. I want this to be - I want -"

"I understand," Kylo said. He looked around, took a deep breath of the sweet air. "I'll find you."

The world faded around him.

-

It had already been sort of weird phrasing, 'I'll find you'. It became orders of magnitude weirder when Finn opened his eyes to see Kylo slumped by his bedside, staring at him.

He didn't jump, but he did stiffen, and he heard the frenetic beeping that indicated that his lifesigns had all gone haywire. "Kylo."

"They weren't sure you'd wake up at first," Kylo said. "So I went looking for you."

"I had a lot going on," Finn said. "They captured me. And Phasma..."

Kylo pressed his lips together. "The initial conditioning isn't meant to be withstood by an adult. It requires neuroplasticity that's lost by the time children turn ten."

"So it should've killed me."

"It should have left you a raving madman, incapable of seeing or hearing, desperate to follow orders you couldn't understand."

"Seems like a big risk. She wanted me to kill every single HJ I could find."

"Killing doesn't require much intellect." Kylo inclined his head a bit, avoiding Finn's gaze. "As you know."

"So I should be brain-dead, and all the HJs should be dead."

"Phasma was resistant to the idea that stormtroopers could be strong with the Force. Or strong at all." Kylo grimaced. "If she'd been smarter about it, yes, you'd be dead."

Finn closed his eyes, just for a second, trying to chase the overwhelmed terror from his mind. "Right, of course."

A hand covered his. "You'll make a full recovery," Kylo said. "That's what the med droid said. If you wake up...you'll recover. And you're awake."

"Thanks, I'd noticed."

Finn expanded his awareness to the Force just in time to feel a wave of frustration emanating from Kylo. "Well. In that case, I suppose you don't really need someone hovering over you." He moved to stand.

Kriff. "Wait." Finn turned his hand over, catching and holding Kylo's wrist, feeling Kylo's pulse flutter against his palm. "That's not what I meant. I'm just - glad - to be here. And not dead, or on Phasma's ship."

"I will kill her if I see her again," Kylo breathed.

"No need." Finn went over what he'd done, how she'd failed to instruct him not to hurt her. "I took her head off. I should probably report that to the General."

"There's time for that later." Kylo shifted a little under Finn's grip, his wrist flexing. It felt good, Finn thought, to hold onto someone like this, to have anything other than the sheer terror of losing himself.

Then he thought: stop messing around. You're glad it's Kylo. You want it to be Kylo.

"I thought I'd be done after I testified. I figured I could just fight for the Resistance and not have to worry as much about the rest of it, the big picture stuff."

Kylo shifted a little, his other hand catching Finn's elbow. They must look ridiculous, Finn thought, with Kylo hunched over him. But it was comforting, in a weird way, to feel blocked off from the rest of the world. Protected, almost.

He was going nuts.

"You can do that, if you want," Kylo said. "I could - help make it happen. Probably."

Finn snorted. "You're a disgraced criminal."

"I'm still Leia Organa's son. I'm still a Skywalker."

Finn could feel the tension building in the room, emanating directly from Kylo. "Please don't go to the dark side again just so I can have a farm to hang out on."

"You've already survived too much. You deserve -"

"I know," Finn said. "Like, whatever you're going to say, I know, okay? But..."

He sat back then, leaning away from Kylo just a little. He thought of Calla and Galaran, of promises kept, of the sick fury he'd felt on Arkanis when talking to people who supported the First Order. He thought of the General's exhausted eyes, the determined set of her mouth. There was only one way to fix that kind of thing, and he knew it. He'd been taught by the best.

"I can't retire," he said. "I can't just walk away. I have to be part of the solution."

The world tilted then, threw itself out of order. Shock rippled through him before he'd even consciously registered the sensation of Kylo kissing him, desperately, passion surging between them, absolutely unmistakable with Kylo's hands on him. And oh, he wanted it, desperately and with immediacy that shocked him: he surged up against Kylo and tugged his hair, bit his lip, hissing in sheer joy when he felt Kylo's nails digging into his skin.

"Wait, wait," Kylo said. He pulled back, one trembling hand against Finn's shoulder. "We should - I should -"

"I'm not going to die," Finn said. "If I wake up, I'm okay, right? That's what you said."

"It's probably a bit more complex than that."

"Sure, but -" But Kylo was here, warm, alive, and not ordering Finn to do any murders. But Finn wanted so much, all the time, and right now the subject of a lot of that desire was looking at him with not-quite-gentle bafflement. But, but, but: Finn was tired of thinking, tired of pulling back. He leaned in and kissed Kylo, and this time, Kylo didn't pull away.

The infirmary beds were built for healing one humanoid, not sex. Still, Kylo managed to get on top of Finn, pressing him down onto the bed.

Normally Finn might not have liked it, being covered by Kylo like this. It had been awhile since Kylo had featured in anything remotely approaching a nightmare, but Finn preferred to have room to maneuver, even - especially - during sex. But something about how tired he was, how close he'd come to dying, and Kylo's own desperation combined in a potent rush, sending jolts of need through him. He pulled Kylo down on him more firmly, kissed him back and then even harder, tugging his hair and pushing a thigh against the hard line of Kylo's cock. His chest was so broad, and Finn made him move up so that he could touch all of it, shoving his shirt up and pressing sharp nails into Kylo's pecs, pinching his nipples and watching as Kylo let out a startled moan.

He surged up to kiss Kylo again, swallowing the tiny whimper Kylo let out when Finn nipped at his lip. He could feel the Force move between them, clumsily attempting to push Finn's clothes aside - and the fact that it was clumsy, the fact that Kylo wasn't in complete control, sent bolts of need through Finn, sharp and present and absolutely impossible to ignore -

The infirmary lit up, and frantic beeping overlaid Kylo yelping and falling to the floor with a thump.

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

BB-8 regarded Finn with a solemn lens and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a fart.

"I'm fine!" Finn said. "More than fine, actually, and you could've at least waited -"

A single claw of metal darted out to flick Finn in the nose, accompanied by a babble of binary. Kylo's voice floated up wearily from the floor: "He's telling you about all the different Human bodily fluids, and how they might stain an infirmary bed."

"BB-8! That's inappropriate!"

"He says it's more inappropriate for us to be - wow, is that Wookiee for - copulating. In the infirmary." Another round of beeps. Kylo said through gritted teeth, "Now he's telling me what would happen if I, quote, sexed you to death."

"Okay, I get it," Finn said. He pulled the remaining sensors off his body. "We're off. It's all yours, buddy."

"He says that's not what he means, you should stay and heal and I should - hey."

But Finn had had enough. Of a lot of things, really, but especially of nosy Resistance members interrupting his very private sexual and/or romantic moments. He grabbed Kylo's arm and hauled him to his feet, made the rudest gesture he knew at BB-8, then pulled Kylo out of the infirmary.

It took him a few hallways to recognize the half-choking, half-braying noise that Kylo was making as laughter. "Okay over there?"

"You're ridiculous. This is insane."

"Probably. But, I don't know, isn't that the whole point of being in the Resistance?"

"Taking me back to you room won't do anything to stop the First Order's spread."

"No, but it will give me the energy to get up tomorrow morning and fight them." Finn couldn't quite hold a smile back. "And, anyway, I'm pretty sure it counts as advancing the cause, seducing you towards the Light."

"You did not seduce me -"

Here was his room. Finn stopped dead, whirling around on Kylo, backing him up against his door. "No?"

Kylo went very, very still, pulse jumping in his throat. His eyes went wide as he swallowed and said, "No. Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

"Huh, weird. I could've sworn that's what all the dreams meant. And the saving my life, and fighting off Snoke's influence."

Kylo glanced over his shoulder, stiffening. "I don't know what you mean."

Finn had to take pity on him then. He leaned in, hands curling on either side of Kylo's neck, and kissed him.

They stumbled inside, still pressed together, Finn unable to let go for long enough to do anything except pull bits of Kylo's clothing off: his tunic, the odd scarf he had wrapped under that, his gloves. By the time they made it to Finn's bed, he had Kylo stripped down to his pants. Kylo, on the other hand, hadn't even managed Finn's jacket.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Finn said, running a finger over Kylo's chest.

He watched in fascination as Kylo's face went through a series of odd contortions, finally landing on determination. Finn wasn't too surprised to feel nothing-pressure against his skin, pulling his jacket off, yanking at his shirt until the seams nearly split.

He laughed when Kylo put his hands on him, rolling them competitively. Kylo scowled, like he thought Finn might be mocking him, and Finn...

Finn kissed him and put his emotion into the Force: joy, love, relief, fear, all tangled together, all aimed at Kylo like a navigation radar.

Kylo touching him with the Force always felt like the best kind of provocation. Now, Finn got to be on the other side of it. He watched Kylo gasp, felt his emotions rise in response to what Finn was sending him. His fingers spasmed on Finn's shoulders, and he thrust his hips, a fluid movement that made it impossible to ignore how turned on he was.

"You want this?" Finn said, curling a hand around Kylo's hip.

"You know I do," Kylo said sourly.

"Maybe I like hearing it." Finn kissed him again, arching his back to press them even closer together. "Maybe it's a good reminder that this isn't just some dumb, I don't know, post-being-evil fling."

"Ridiculous," Kylo breathed. But he kissed Finn again, harder, curling around him with his entire body. The Force held Finn as Kylo moved down between his legs. Finn could hardly move, and it should've felt threatening, maybe, or at least uncomfortable. Instead it was a thrilling kind of comfort, feeling surrounded by Kylo, the sheer power and weight of all Kylo's attention being focused on him.

He didn't really know what he was doing with this, it was obvious, but Finn found he didn't care. It felt so good, Kylo's mouth on him, Kylo's fingers digging into his hips. He arched his back and thrust a little, out of his mind, and immediately froze. "Sorry."

Kylo moaned. He thrust his hips into the bed. Finn moved again, more cautiously, and Kylo held on and rode the movement like -

Like he loved it. Like he wanted more.

Carefully, carefully, he put a hand on the back of Kylo's head and fucked his mouth. It was impossible to lie to each other like this, tangled up physically and in the Force. Finn felt split open, helpless, desperate, and Kylo responded by giving more and more to him, until Finn was coming down his throat, held off the bed and immobile by Kylo's own power.

It ended quickly after that. Kylo moved on top of Finn and started jerking himself off; Finn grabbed him, pushed him down, kissed him and made Kylo spill all over his fist. He shook against Finn's mouth, whispering, "Finn, Finn," as his fingers scrabbled at Finn's shoulder. Finn held him through it, watching almost in spite of himself. It should have been terrifying, the tenderness, the need to keep skin against skin. But it really was impossible to lie: he knew Kylo felt the same way. He knew that everything he gave was returned twice over.

They fell asleep in Finn's bed, legs curled around each other, Kylo with his head tucked in Finn's shoulder. Finn knew without needing to ask that he wouldn't wake up alone this time.

-

The General regarded him with what Finn privately thought of as her most Politician Face, a carefully neutral mask with just a bit of lurking attitude. "The med droids tell me you're all healed up."

"That's what they said, yep."

"Wonderful. Please tell my son the Resistance infirmary has publicly monitored security cameras." As Finn spluttered, she said, "In your absence, the Senate voted on the prospect of an electoral body to represent defected stormtroopers. It squeaked by."

"They know about the kill switch," Finn said. "They'll start trying to do damage control - they've already updated brainwashing with a new code word."

"We can find that information again. You don't think they'll cease the practice altogether?"

Finn shook his head. "I pulled that out of Phasma when I was there. They have to keep it. They use it when stormtroopers are undercover, when they abandon them for sleeper missions. It's part of their operation, and they don't have the resources to change that part."

"Then stormtroopers will continue to defect."

The HJs had a leg up on everyone else, being intelligence-focused. But Finn thought of the fear he'd sensed on that ship, the sheer choked-off rage. "Yeah, I think they will."

"Then the Senate's decision holds: they function as a people, and they'll be represented as one." The General glanced up at him, then away. "Your name, I believe, has been put forth for representative candidacy."

Finn choked on nothing.

"You're not shocked, surely?"

"Um, yes. I'm not even an HJ!"

"My understanding is that Calla has been making your case to anyone who'll listen. And, of course, plenty of people who don't want to."

And, okay, that was nice, it was sweet, but - "Maybe they want someone else. Someone less..."

"Smart? Capable?" The General snorted. "If this is your idea of diplomacy, we've still got a lot of work to do."

"Sane. I was going to say."

She looked him in the eye then, a shrewd glint setting Finn on edge. But she didn't upbraid him, didn't call him an idiot or tell him he was full of it. She only said, "You should talk to some of your peers. You know, the young hotshots that make the Resistance what it is. Ask them what's being said about you."

And with that mind-breakingly ominous statement, she left.

He didn't get around to it until the Yay, We Survived And Also We Begin Formal Evac Preparations Tomorrow party. Poe and Rey had convinced BB-8 to serve as the party's bouncer, and after he dragged out three drunken pilots, Finn broke and said, "The General told me there's rumors. About me."

"Don't worry, buddy." Poe clapped him on the back. "We all know you're Ben's boyfriend or whatever. It's weird, but we're adjusting."

Finn nearly choked on his hooch. "No, no, not that! The stormtrooper thing. The rumors about all that."

"Oh, that's nothing." Rey waved a hand, then jumped with guilt when one of the mechanic's chairs darted out from under her. "Sorry, Tico!"

"It's just," she said, turning back to Finn, "you know, you threw off First Order brainwashing and defeated one of their top commanders. And I guess technically you've defeated another one, you know, romantically."

"He didn't defeat me," Kylo said from the far end of the table.

"Close enough!" Rey shouted. "Anyway. So I suppose you're a bit of a legend, or you're getting there. They speak very highly of you."

"But I hid! I lied! Or I thought I was telling the truth, but still - I -"

"The Force loves you," Rey said. "Like, it's actually disgusting, the way it hangs around you, how much it makes everyone want to please you. The General's the same way, and it's not like you're going to walk up to her and tell her she's a fraud and should quit. Right?"

"That's different!"

"It's not," Kylo said.

A lump appeared in Finn's throat, just like that. He looked over at Kylo to tell him to shove it, but he found he couldn't. Kylo's gaze was as intense as ever, as serious and as fun-hating, but it was also affectionate. Real. He believed in Finn just as Rey did.

Just as, apparently, an entire five-hundred-soldier platoon did. Right.

"I hate this argument," Poe said. "And the googly eyes. None of us are drunk enough for this. Jess! Get us another round of whatever this is!"

"On it, boss."

"And you." Poe turned to Rey. "Can you cheat at cards, or is that breaking the Jedi code and going dark side or whatever?"

"Poe," Kylo said. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, yes." Poe regarded all of them with the shit-eating grin that Finn knew, was thrilled to know, meant trouble. He pulled a deck of cards out of his coat and tossed them on the table. "Ben, you get to teach Finn. Rey, you're with me."

Kylo unfolded his long limbs to come sit by Finn. "What are the rules, exactly?" Finn said.

"Winner takes all. Or cheaters take all, in the case of Dameron over there."

Finn closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and feeling the Force move around him.

I don't know, I think we have a chance, he told Kylo.

It was worth it to watch Kylo jump a mile high, cursing a blue streak. When did you learn how to do this!

Win me enough to buy a bottle of the good stuff off Jax in engineering and I'll tell you.

Grim determination, surprised humor, and love - a really embarrassing amount of love - suffused Finn. "Deal," Kylo said aloud.

"Hey, are you two talking? Whoa, that's not allowed," Poe said. "Table talk, c'mon."

Finn laughed and played the first card.