"Do it."

It wasn't much more than a whisper, his voice lost in struggle between breathing and moaning as Poe pressed. But there wasn't a game now, or there was but it was something else now, or- Finn couldn't keep track, didn't really care to. His hands were bound and his position forced him open for Poe, and he was hard enough his pants had become painfully restricting. There was no time for feeling awkward or inexperienced or uncertain. No time and no room for it in his head. It was perfect.

"Now, Dameron."