Poe kisses John's palm, and then licks it, because he's twelve.

He takes the napkins, wiping each finger before dropping the used bits of paper on John's plate.

"You know pretty much everyone is an alien where I'm from, right?"

It took Poe a little while to realize exactly what people outside of his galaxy meant by the word alien. As far as he's concerned the term borders on entirely useless.

He picks up a pork rind and waves it under John's nose before attempting to feed it to him.