His heart had been pounding through the entire, beautifully swift change in position. Was still pounding, a straight throb from chest to groin that made up the entire world. The hard stairs under his knees, the slight cut of his shirt into his wrists (more his fault that Poe's, an easy thing to escape, but he'd twisted it tighter to hide that fact), all just minor distractions, the sharp contrast that highlighted his need.

Then Poe stepped away and he pressed his forehead into the nearest stair, nearly whimpering in disappointment. Fuck. He really would make a good stormtrooper.

"M' not a child. I- know," hard, he was too hard and Poe was too damn far away. "I know what I'm saying."