“Me too,” he murmured gently, laying still until he could feel Finn’s breathing slow, his heavy weight pressed warm and still against his side. Only then did Poe turn his head to look at the carnage. Wincing, he carefully - as quietly as he could and moving as little as he could manage - gestured to the mess, moving one object at a time back into its (mostly) proper place. That picture frame was toast forever, now, but otherwise he’d at least managed not to break anything.

Satisfied, he looped that arm gently around Finn, closed his eyes, and drifted off into a warm and dreamless sleep.