He might've made a good stormtrooper in another life. Finn might even tell him that, later, when he was running his fingers over the marks on Poe's neck, over those on his own, catching his breath from this. But here and now the hissed words, the tugging, just made his knees practically buckle, threatening to longer hold him up.

"Poe-"

He caught himself, swallowing hard and trying not to break the scene any harder. Not if getting Poe to do that was the reward for playing.

"What are you gonna do?"