They lay on a blanket, staring up at a whole galaxy of stars, and without hesitation, Finn takes Rey’s hand in his.
He likes comparing their hands – both warm and callused, a lifetime of soldier training and hand-to-mouth scavenging between them. They’ll never have the soft hands of one raised in luxury and comfort, but that’s just one of the many ways they fit together.
If nothing else, they understand each other.
His fingers are slightly longer than hers. Her nails are ragged, bitten-down; she still hasn’t broken herself of the habit of tearing hangnails off with her teeth and spitting them out. Finn is meticulous in the routine care of his body; stormtrooper training has given him discipline whether he wants it or not, and so he takes the time to actually clip his nails, thank you very much, and come on, it’s not that hard to just file them down, really, spitting?
Okay, they’ve had that discussion once or twice.
Finn raises Rey’s hand to his mouth and leaves a trail of five little kisses – one for each knuckle – across the back. She smiles and scooches closer to him until there is very little space between them. Maybe later they’ll really get into it; they both like kissing an awful lot, and there are other, far more interesting places to kiss, but he’s perfectly content for now.
Just holding hands is its own little luxury, truly.
Awww the poor dears. You’d think it wouldn’t take much to touch their own erogenous regions, but they just have to reach much, much farther. I guess the famed sex scene and vagina imagery just aren’t as satisfying as advertised.
Now excuse me, I have this Finnrey pornography called “The Force Awakens” to rub off to, not to mention the good bits in TLJ.
L.J.'s Obsessions 