He liked being handled roughly, so long as it was somebody he trusted not to hurt him. He trusted Poe. He wanted harder kisses, wanted bites, wanted a thousand things he would be ashamed to admit to come morning, but at the moment that kind of claiming kiss took away his ability to do anything other than moan into Poe's touch, which was so much more bold and decisive and already more than anything he'd ever done with Manabu.

Brendan didn't even wait for another greenlight, he yanked Poe by the shirt towards the bedroom, cheeks flushed already, breath shaky, taking the opportunity when he opened the bedroom door to shuck off his jacket. He wasn't anything spectacular to look at, but Poe was, so he focused on Poe, on how good Poe looked, how incredibly dark and perfect his eyes were and how kissable his lips were, and the next thing he knew he had his arms around Poe's waist again, tugging him close to press their bodies together. It was probably not a great indicator of Brendan's mindset that he'd gone from zero to have the start of a hard-on and he'd regret that too, later, but right now he just opened his mouth, silently begging Poe to kiss him senseless. He'd always been in charge with Manabu. He wanted the opposite from Poe.

He trusted Poe not to use the opportunity to break his heart or push him into something he didn't want. If things had gone differently, he could have loved Poe. If things had gone differently, they'd be making love right now instead of making great strides towards what could only be called a pity fuck.