your heart is gold and my hands are cold (ao3 link)
Finn’s breathing is sharp and shallow beside him. Ren can feel the panic thrumming around them both, his own heart shuddering in his chest. A hand reaches out and takes his, their palms cupped together as they flee.
There is a sheen of sweat along Finn’s brow as they hide, as Finn tries desperately to control his breathing. Ren’s hand tightens around the hilt of his saber, his left… he looks down. Their hands are still intertwined, Finn’s dark skin against the black of his glove. It feels… important. “You’re… holding my hand,” he says. It is the only coherent thought he can articulate.
Finn’s breathing has steadied somewhat. He still holds the blaster in his left hand, shifts to drag his forearm along his brow. He drops Ren’s hand, unlinks them as if he’d been burned. “Sorry,” he says breathless, distracted and embarrassed. His eyes don’t meet Ren’s.
There is… Ren’s hand feels cold, misses the shared contact even if it wasn’t skin on skin. He blinks, flexes his free hand as if it were something new and foreign to him. “I…” he begins hesitantly, softly so not to give away their position. “You didn’t have to let go.”




















