flightforfreedom | A stupid post for stupid threads

"Next time, gonna demand no talking."

But it was an empty threat, all fondness and no bite. Still, if Poe's not gonna take care of this then, damn it, he is. He takes his hands away from the man just long enough to hook his thumbs under his own shirt and pull it off, tossing it directly on top of the jacket.

So maybe he can't help his own, albeit limited, showing off as well.

Either way, the next move is to lean forward again, pressing bare chest against chest as he returns to kissing along Poe's neck.

The fact that Finn even said 'next time' was more than enough to make his blood rush straight down to his groin. Not that it wasn't already there, but, well, you get the idea.

"I've been told I have a problem with authority," He admitted, grinning, but the grin faltered as Finn stripped his shirt. He was going to get to that, but - damn. Damn.

He didn't even notice that he let out a low whistle.

"Yeah, I think we can work with that--" He said, groaning as he was pressed back against the bed, chin tilting up as his fingers grasped at Finn's waist and went searching blindly for his fly. "Question - is that a common look, in the First Order? Because I think we need to steal their training regime--"

"Mandatory."

It was an honest, reflexive reply, and he couldn't even blame the distraction of Poe removing his pants to blame on the fact it was several seconds later he caught the actual compliment. Too late now, and it wasn't like he could blush deeper. But he could bit at the point where Poe's neck met his shoulder, trying to distract the man from another sarcastic reply to that terrible info dump.

"Ah-Need some help there?"

He tries to hide the smile that comes at Finn's automatic reply. It was the fact that it was automatic that made it - well. Adorable. Probably shouldn't think that way about mandatory First Order training, but then - he got Finn out of it. So obviously they did something right.

Never voicing that thought aloud.

Which was fine, because the thought disappeared instantly the moment he felt Finn's teeth in him. So - distraction successful.

"Nah, I got it," He murmured, shifting his weight until he finally caught the zipper and slid it down. He was careful not to do any touching, not yet - immediately retracting his hand to slide it in against Finn's hip instead, gently pushing his trousers down.

It's a groan. He convinces himself of that, or attempts to at least, as the pants go down far too slowly for his taste. A groan. No a whimper. Not at all. And he paused his work on Poe's neck just to get some air, not to fully focus on what was happening. That's all, just pressing his forehead against Poe's shoulder, panting against his bicep, for the air.

Poe is far too amused for his own good. Aroused, yes, obviously. Fond - yes, and that part he wasn't going to dissect, right now. But the amusement was what kept him grinning, kept his chest warm. Burned under the fondness.

Because in the end he simply enjoyed Finn's company. Whether that was in a TIE fighter being shot at by the First Order, or - whimpering softly because Poe had finally managed to drag his pants down to his knees. It was cute, alright? He couldn't help it.

Nor could he help being a little bit bolder, his finger tips 'accidentally' brushing up the inside of Finn's thigh before he pressed his palm to the hard outline marking Finn's underwear.

"Poe-"

It was already a hard press, but Poe might be in slight pain now as Finn jerked forward, trapping the other man's hand between them and grinding his stomach across Poe's length.

He'd had a plan, more or less, when he'd gotten into the bed. Get on top of Poe, undress, likely sex. But the path between item two and three was more vague we'll use the Force? than actually laid out step by step. Now that he was here, managing much more than groaning into the pilot's chest and grinding against his hand was hard to even imagine. Any finesse or mutual seduction on hold so long as that hand was there.

It wasn't the most comfortable position for his wrist, maybe, but Poe could literally not care less, at the moment. Not with his name said with that kind of desperation.

He arched up, catching at Finn's lips with his own as he tried to re-angle his hand, which didn't go quite as smoothly as he hoped, but somehow he managed to find a grip, tightening around Finn's cock, fabric catching in his fingers.

"Yeah?" he asked in a grunt, the most eloquent lover in the universe.

Finn just panted against his mouth for a moment, not actually prepared to be asked anything. He's assumed Poe would know what to do- for the way the man talked, he had to know what to do. Which, at this point, just had to be something. So despite the thrill of straddling the naked pilot, Finn admitted his place as the novice in this situation and, wordlessly, flipped them awkward wrist position and all so the other man could do...something.

"I don't know."

He couldn't help it, laughing a little as Finn flipped the over, but the laughter died as soon as he had Finn pinned down, between his thighs.

Sure, he knew what to do. He'd had experience, but it had been different. Mostly with other fighter pilots, mostly on a friends-with-benefits scenario, and usually in the excitement of still somehow being alive. He'd never managed to have a relationship. He was dedicated to the Resistence, and the Republic Navy before that. It didn't leave a lot of room for lovers. That, and Poe did his best not to get too attached. To anyone.

It was too hard to justify, when you might die at any moment.

And then there was Finn.

Which was a whole new bracket of 'something else'. Something else that made his stomach flip in weird, yet pleasant, ways, when he was situated above him like this.

If this had been one of his buddies, and a night to burn off some steam, he knew exactly what he would do. Off would go the last of Finn's clothes and down would go Poe's head and he would stay down until there were some very delicious cries from Finn's lips, and then they would switch. And then they would laugh and have a drink and watch a stupid holovid. And sure, that's how he'd been playing this up so far, maybe. Sort of. It wasn't like he'd declared anything.

But the idea of just getting on with it... Didn't sit right. So he actually hesitated - not for long, but for a noticeable few seconds, before the fond grin spread and he shifted - grinding against Finn a little before moving to kiss his throat - lips parting as he did, his free hand tugging down Finn's underwear off his hips.

For a long moment Finn is concerned he'd made the wrong move. Harsh breathing in the dark, Poe looming over him and apparently just as uncertain as he'd been in that position. Sure, the pilot had started it. Had kissed him first, had directed him to the bed. But Finn couldn't help the sudden feeling he'd miscalculated somehow, thrown the grenade a second too late and now he was going to end up in the collateral. They'd never talked about it, but maybe Poe had a hot boyfriend waiting for him somewhere, too-

But then he grinned, and Finn started to let out a sharp laugh of self-deprecation that quickly turned into a groan as the kissing was back. Okay. That was the correct amount of pressure. He'd keep that in mind for when he made it back on top.

And there went the last piece of clothing between them. Suddenly Finn didn't have much capacity for plans or laters. Just Hooking his ankles around the back of Poe's knees and pressing up for as much pressure as possible. Poe could have confessed to secretly being a Sith after all and Finn wasn't sure he could bring himself to care until after they were done with the task at hand.

Poe groaned, the sound pulled from his lips almost against his will as he found himself pressed hot and tight against Finn's body. He had been trying to ignore the way his cock had been throbbing for attention, but that was now pretty impossible, given the current amount of pressure and friction.

His head dipped, pressing into the hollow between Finn's neck and shoulder, his thighs moving as he rolls his hips to press down against Finn. Well, down was the wrong word. He couldn't actually lift off him, the way Finn's ankles were hooked around his knees, so he just moved against him, grinding almost helpless. It was far from finesse but he couldn't give a damn. It felt way too good.

"Fuck, Finn--" he groaned, the curse rumbled into Finn's collarbone where his lips happened to be.

"Always...talking..."

It's another laugh that gives up half way and just becomes a puff of air, everything focused on keeping them sliding against each other. A little too much friction, honestly, the sweat doing some to help but just an edge of too harsh. Which, really, should have been more of a turn off than it was. But enduring was drilled into his bones, and it made him feel better to have that touch of discomfort. Finn wasn't sure he'd know how to handle painless.

But he was still a little reluctant to let out every little noise building in his throat. So his bit down into Finn's shoulder again, easing up a half-second too late to prevent it from being painful as it occurred to him breaking skin probably wasn't considered a good thing in normal society.

The pain was instant, and sharp, and sent blood straight down to his cock, sucking in a hard breath, the combination of the bite and the grind was way too heady. He grabbed Finn's backside with one of his hands, the other curling tightly into the sheets below him. He turned his face, pressing it into Finn's throat and mouthing it - teeth grazing - half an acceptance of the earlier bite, and half a request for more.

"-- could always... gag me," He pointed out, lips spreading into a grin against Finn's skin before nipping at his neck, for real, this time.

"... shove me into the pillows..."

And it was the mental image that did it, because it was way too easy to picture. After having personally freed Poe from Kylo Ren- and, frack, it was messed up to have that mental image now. All the pain Poe'd endured, everything that happened during his time in the Order's hands. It was wrong. But he could still see it. The pilot restrained, alone, in that empty room, in just a slightly different position and context. Finn entering the room, hearing the other man's breath hitch-

And he was done. All pretense of gentle or restrained was forgotten has his fingers dug deep into Poe's hips, his teeth into that same spot on Poe's shoulder, and he didn't even start to come to until he realized there actually was the taste of blood in his mouth. And then it was like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, every hold he had on the other man instantly releasing.

"I'm sorry!"

Edited 2016-01-27 02:39 (UTC)

It was a little more abrupt than he'd been expecting, if he was honest. So he was a touch surprised when Finn a) suddenly came and then b) let go of him shouting that he was sorry like he had been tasered. His shoulder hurt - quite a bit - but that wasn't what he was paying attention to as he shifted his weight to be able to look down at Finn, twisting his body so he was resting one hip against him.

"Relax, Finn," He said, his voice fond and teasing, though he himself was still far from finished, he was very willing to pull back a minute. He reached down between them, running a finger over Finn's - ah - soiled chest, and then sticking the finger in his mouth.

"Yeah, not bad, but I think I can probably keep working for a better vintage--"

He thought he'd been blushing earlier. But with the sudden lack of need of blood in his dick and Poe's...what Poe just did, Finn felt he may actually be in danger of setting the pillow on fire with how hot his cheeks were. He couldn't even start to find the banter to match that, still too busy putting his brains back in order.

But, wait, no. That was an excuse. Even totally focused and rested, he wouldn't know how to respond to that other than whimpering.

Despite his apology, the beads of blood along Poe's shoulder caught his eye, making it so he couldn't help running a thumb over the mark. He'd done that. He'd done it, and it wouldn't be gone by the morning. It was grounding, something to focus on.

"You- we're...not done yet."

The blush was so fierce that he could see it, and his heart thudded, skipping a beat just to thud harder on the second.

He didn't wince, when Finn touched the torn skin, though his lips parted as if he was about to say something.

And he almost did, it was there, right on the tip of his tongue, half way between teasing him again and an earnest confession, and the conflict just ended up in him not saying anything at all - and instead leaning down, sliding a hand around the back of Finn's neck, and pulling him into a deep, searching kiss.

It isn't a gentle groan Finn gives at that. It's one that feels like it's vibrating all the way from his lips to his stomach. There's no new jolt of arousal, he's well and truly spent of the moment. But Poe's maintained affection is something, and it earns an appropriate reaction.

Freed from his own distraction, though, Finn is all too aware of the maintained pressure against his leg. So, without breaking the kiss, he slips a hand back between them. If Poe's paying attention, he may notice it's an identical grip to the one he'd applied to Finn moments earlier. Followed by a very similar kind of stoke.

For better or for worse, Poe was not really aware enough to be able to measure grip intensity, or stroke length, speed, or really any other scientific measurement.

He didn't even try to hold back the moan as it slipped out against Finn's lips, into his mouth, Poe completely unwilling to pull away. He wouldn't need a whole lot - he could be as efficient about his orgasms as the next man - and he didn't want to make Finn feel too awkward about it. This whole scenario had been far above and beyond what he had expected from the night. Drinks, he'd told himself. Just drinks. Drinks, maybe drop a few more hints, even though Finn seemed terrible about picking up on them. The kiss had been impulsive, but he was putting it down in his record book of 'proof that Poe makes better decisions if he doesn't think about them', and running with this as far as he could take it.

His hips rolled - thrusting himself a little faster, a little harder, into Finn's hand, before he caught Finn's bottom lip in his teeth, smiling against him.

It was all taken as the approval it was, and Finn couldn't help smiling a little in return, even as most of his mind was occupied with what his hand was doing. He was vaguely aware that there things with his mouth or other body parts could be doing instead, but without direct experience he was hesitant to make that jump. Instead he focused on the hand work, the other one coming up to splay along Poe's lower back and control where the man's hips went.

But words. The man never shut up. Without his own painful need, he could work that angle too. It just took pulling his mouth away for a moment before going back for the next kiss.

"You're perfect."

It was lucky that Finn went immediately back to occupying Poe's lips after speaking, so that it wasn't too obvious how Poe's heart stopped at the words.

It wasn't that Poe had a lack of self esteem. Quite the opposite. He was all too used to people telling him how great he was, in and outside of the bedroom. Sure, outside it was mostly about his flying, but even his crew mates were known to curse and extol the virtues of his body while they were making use of it. Flattery was simply part of the game. Though Iola's 'Fuck, Poe, your cock could probably fly black squadron by itself' was still his personal favourite. They were friendly, complimentary, and utter bullshit.

This, though --

He kissed back hard, mostly so that his brain could catch up, so that he could come up with something witty and casual rather than just immediately start babbling about how he felt, which was probably not the best idea, considering how this whole encounter had started. So he just grinded roughly against him and managed to pull away with a grin, and a husky, "You're one to talk."

Finn gave a small scoff at that, but couldn't help grinning back. Poe's small pull back gave him another idea though and, smile increasing slightly, he started with a roll of his hips to bring them back to their original position: Poe pinned under him. There were a few changes this time, of course. Like Finn's maintained pumping of the other man's cock. As well as the fact Poe looked an absolute, stunning mess now. Hair that had just been toweled off enough to start to dry sticking in every direction, Finn's own mess on his stomach and thighs, and, where Finn couldn't help looking at a little longer than needed, the bite and bruises around his neck and shoulders. The sudden certainty that he was going to keep this was a jolt to the system, a whole new thought process making itself known without warning.

His hand slowed slightly as he pushed that thought aside for a later time. For now, it was much better to focus on the task at hand, leaning down to press another kiss to Poe's neck.

"You, uh, had some good...thoughts, there. Earlier. With the pillows."

Vader's ghost, was this really his bedroom talk? Finn frowned slightly and cleared his throat. It was a terrible imitation of the husky tone that came so naturally to Poe, but it was...not as terrible. Maybe. By the tiniest bit.

"But tell me what you'd want."

He let Finn flip him, grunting as he landed back into the sheets, the hand on his cock and the site of Finn above him was making it harder to breathe, a pressure building low in his abdomen --

And then Finn spoke. He couldn't help it - he laughed, with a helpless fond grin, which was probably not the reaction Finn was going for but it had been so earnest and - well - adorable - that it was hard to take seriously. Or - well, seriously wasn't the word. It was hard to focus on having an orgasm when all he watched to do was grin and rub Finn's head.

Hard, but not impossible, considering how far he'd already come.

"Right now?" He asked, wetting his lips, "Or do you mean the next time I manage to drag you off into a dark corner, or a cockpit--"

Thank the Force he had his face pressed into Poe's neck, he didn't think he needed to hear anymore giggling in reaction to his expression that that first laugh. He was learning. No man was a dead shot on the first run with a blaster. But the fondness in the man's voice kept any real humiliation at bay, just earning the man a quick bite to the ear.

"Whatever you want."

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