flightforfreedom | A stupid post for stupid threads

All former concerns and worries flew completely out the window - his entire universe sinking down to Finn's lips, his tongue, his hard body under his hands. How much he just wanted to stay right there, how the planets seemed to align, just for this.

And then Finn spoke, and any blood he had left rushed straight to his groin.

"I'm happy to share," He replied, just as rough, the water running down his face and between his lips until he pushed forward and occupied them once more.

Not again. That was the mental chant. This wasn't going to turn into Poe distracting him to the point he ran the risk of ruining the mood again. Of watching an unfinished Poe sprint away while Finn was left to shower off his own mess alone.

It takes a minute for that chant to be put into action. Good intentions were nothing compared to feeling Poe against him, skin on skin, and he was so damn hard. But he does it. He deserves a medal for it, but he does it. He pulls Poe away again and flips their positions. His hands slide down to rest on Poe's shoulders, pressing so they are against the wall, keeping the man a little less than an arm's length away.

"Stay there."

He puts his hands up for the universal side of surrender, one entire side of his body bright red from where the too-hot shower had been hitting him, and was now spraying the other side.

"No promises," He says, wetting his lips, his eyes squinting slightly from the spray of the shower. He was on complete, full display, now, and a display it was. His stubble was darker than usual - four days without a shave - and his arousal was obvious enough that they probably could have set up a tent with it.

And he was decidedly Not Thinking.

He almost reached out a hand to run along Poe's side, from shoulder to hip- but no. If he did that, he wasn't certain he'd stop again. It was time to keep the mission objectives in mind. First he kicked his sopped wet clothing out of the shower, leaving them on the floor to deal with later. Then the water was finally adjusted, down to a nice, manageable heat instead of the relentless inferno.

There, good. Well done, soldier.

Then he finally gave in, tracing with both thumbs the lines of Poe's neck, down along his collar bones, then curling his fingers around the man's ribs and running his palms down until his hands come to rest on his hips.

"Still perfect."

Any walls that Poe had somehow managed to erect around his heart completely crumbled, and he couldn't bring himself to even want to build them up again. He let Finn's fingers stay there for approximately all of fifteen seconds, the look on his face one of utter and unadulterated adoration, and then he was stepping forward, sliding his hands around both sides of Finn's face and pulling him in for a deep, lingering kiss.

The heat was still there, still burning, but it wasn't that spurring him.

Later, lying in bed, staring at his ceiling, his brain would finally rear its head, and he would stick a pin through that moment and keep it. That was the instant he finally understood his father. And later that would be the first thing he would ever truly fear.

But now, there was no fear, or thoughts of his family, or even thoughts of himself. Everything was Finn.

He'd keep this, too. Poe's expression, a look he'd never seen before. The feel of Poe's hands cupping his face. His, all his, to keep and bring back up whenever he wanted.

Finn pressed forward again, not stopping until Poe's back is flat against the wall once more. It takes some maneuvering, but he gets his lips away from his lips and against Poe's neck. Then, before he can second guess himself, doesn't stop. His mouth follows a similar path to the one his hands had a moment ago. Down his neck then ribs. Finn finally drops to his knees to kiss his stomach and along the curve of one hip.

It's only then he looks back up, unsuccessfully trying to push down his uncertainty. Making sure this was fine in Poe's plan, as well. Which the pilot can hopefully pick up by look alone, because Finn's words are failing him again.

"You...ah...?"

Finns lips trailing down his chest had left absolutely no doubt of where he was going, and Poe was completely, and utterly, okay with the destination. He reaches out, his hand sliding over Finn's hair, close cropped and wet, and he's smiling so honestly and so wide that it's making his cheeks hurt.

"You're perfect," he murmurs.

He can feel his heart as it chugs harder and faster into the next beat, and Finn is forced to remember just how dangerous this was. So many clear and obvious reasons why-

And he's grinning back without thinking about it. Fear meant something when he had time to think about, to evaluate. In the moment it just made his heart beat faster. Or in this particular case, his groin grow harder. Which might have something to do with why he and Poe got along to begin with.

But beyond all that, he has his answer. In the few days Poe had been away Finn had done some...recon of his own. Beyond the very obvious aspects that came naturally, he thought he had some of more relevant basics down from study. Leaning in, Finn ran the very tip of his tongue along Poe's cock, from tip to base, then back up again on the other side.

Poe groaned, his eyelids flickering, but his gaze staying focused and determined on Finn kneeling in front of him. On his tongue, darting out to slide along flesh-- He cursed, lowly, his fingers curling, nails scraping through hair to dig into scalp as he watched.

It was going to be very, very hard to keep from moving.

"... Finn--"

So far so good. Encouraged by the reactions so far, he takes a breath then goes for the main mission, taking the first few inches in his mouth. After placing his hands on Poe's hips, holding him in place. Gagging during the first five seconds was not part of the plan, and the man was impulsive enough that urge might overrule his consideration for a moment.

Poe was working hard to be very considerate. The last thing he wanted to do was convince Finn that this would be an unpleasant experience for him, because on a very basic, utterly thoughtless level, he wanted Finn to enjoy - (putting it bluntly) - sucking his cock. That was very much an endeavour that should only receive encouragement.

But the part of his mind that was thinking, and for the most part had nobler intentions, just liked Finn too much to want to push it. Not now. Later maybe. Later, after they'd had a few rounds, and Finn had bitten hard into his inner thigh and left a dark, purple mark--

He moaned, his thoughts having gotten away from him and gone in a very, very arousing direction.

"... barely gone even four days, and missed you so much," he whispered, the words almost lost in the sound of the water hitting them and the floor.

He really wasn't in a position to be holding a conversation, but his grip on Poe's thighs tightened enough that there was no doubt there would be bruises after. Five perfect fingerprints on pale (compared to Finn) hips, only matching up to his hands.

His next bob forward went another inch further, Finn's own groan muffled. He knew there was a way to take the man in all the way. He'd seen it. He just...had to figure it out. Hopefully sometime in the next two minutes before he made a fool of himself while trying.

He hadn't expected a reply, obviously, but he also had barely noticed he had said it. (He never really stopped talking, unless you were a First Order Interrogator.) Finn's fingers on his thighs were such a perfect answer, though, regardless of what he said, that he sucked in a hard breath, his head rolling back to rest against the wall of the shower, his fingernails digging harder into Finn's scalp, almost pulling him in closer, if it weren't for the fact that he kept holding himself back from doing that.

Poe's admirable for that, but Finn's undertaken the mission. He was the former pride of the First Order, soon to be Big Deal of the rebellion, and...whatever the hell this was to the most talented pilot in the galaxy. He could manage to accomplish what teenagers raised in slums and farms across the galaxy could. Just breathe through the nose, lean forward-

And gag reflex. He jerked back the second he hit it, eyebrows narrowing. Okay. Not that way.

Poe didn't miss a beat. He was far too into this to be put off by the sudden disengagement - pulling Finn up roughly back to his feet and up against him, sliding a hand between them in the exact same breath that he stole a desperate kiss. It was a little awkward to grab them both, but he was determined, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

And he wanted to feel Finn right there against him as he stroked them both hard enough to drive them mad.

So by spreading his fingers a little further than they enjoyed and wrapping them around each in turn, he managed to get them both in one hand and give a rough, hard stroke as he panted into Finn's lips.

He wasn't sure if this counted as a mission failure or spectacular success, or maybe just a complaint about his head giving talents. But he couldn't give a single damn, not with those fingers in action and Poe's mouth so close. He dove back in for another harsh kiss even as his hands scrambled for purchase on the man's wet back and shoulders, relying on that grip to hold him up as his legs went suddenly weak. He'd been kneeling, that was clearly the issue. From kneeling to standing and-

And where did Poe learn to do that with his hand? Finn groaned helplessly, hips jerking at the sensation.

"I- damn- I missed...Too. You too."

There was a growing urgency to every stroke, his grip tight enough to make the friction between them impossibly sweet. But really it was the way that Finn clung to him, the way his voice hitched when he spoke, the words tumbling out in an irregular disorder. That was what did it, more than he rapid timing if his own hand, so used to gripping a joystick that this just felt like a natural step up.

It was Finn and everything about him that had the broken, husky moan pulling from his lips.

"--Finn--- I can't--"

It was all the warning he managed to get out. Usually he did better than this. Honest to god. But it was too late, his hand thrusting down hard against them, the climax hitting him so fast and suddenly that he couldn't stop it. He clutched at Finn's back, and most definitely did not let out a whimpering moan. It was something way closer to a husky growl, or something equally sexy. Definitely not the pure, overwhelmed sound that he was afraid that it was.

Actually afraid wasn't the best word, because he did not have a single thought in his head as he came.

Damn legs- Finn barely manged to think that much, the whole having thoughts process having been let go a few seconds ago and now rushing back in jumbled and frantic, as Poe leaned into him. That combined with a wet shower floor could have ended terribly, came very close to doing so, in fact. Finn stumbled a step back, and only excellent reflexes kept them together and upright in the shower instead of painfully sprawled on the bathroom floor.

They were okay. He was still painfully hard, but they were okay.

More than okay. Poe was panting against him, spent, and Finn could have given a whoop to rival the first time he shot down a TIE fighter at that. He didn't. But the temptation was there. Instead he used a free hand to smooth Poe's soaking hair back and away from his forehead so he could better see the man's face.

"Got you."

He felt the stumble but had basically nothing in him to help them stay upright, so he was hazily glad that Finn, at least, had better reflexes. (Remind him not to try this while flying.)

His hand let go, stabilizing on Finn's hip, as he turned his eyes up to meet his gaze.

He'd go up against a hundred Starkillers if it meant Finn would look at him that way again.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice a little rough. He didn't quite trust his legs yet, but he leaned in, taking a slow, almost lazy kiss.

"You got me."

The kiss saved him. Between that look, the fact most of his blood was still south of his brain, and just himself, he'd been about to ask for clarification for that last comment. How far did that go, how much did he have-

Yeah. Good thing he was very quickly otherwise occupied. Not ruining everything was still a core of the mostly in tatters plan. He slid his hand down to the back of Poe's neck again, increasing the pressure of the kiss.

He was finally starting to get some semblance of sense back - a little more balance, a little more, you know, active thought process - though he wasn't about to break that kiss immediately no matter what.

Well, except to murmur against Finn's lips a single word that was definitely not a question.

"Bed."

Soaking wet, Poe. But it's a thought he all too happily lets slip away. Shuddering against the man and reaching blindly behind him to turn the water off was a much better plan. Good work, Finn.

He manages it on the second try, not a bad accomplishment considering he didn't break that kiss. Finn takes the first step out of the shower, but the whole navigation processes is being left in the hands of the pilot.

It's hard to navigate anything when you refuse to stop kissing the incredibly handsome man in front of you, but luckily, he didn't really need to be able to see, to know where he was going. The soaking wet would be a problem, one he didn't think about until they were just about past the towels. He shot a hand out - breaking the kiss off for all of ten seconds to be able to see what he was doing, then slung it around Finn's hips to pull him hard up against him with it like a sling.

He could take a break for two seconds to make out, this was just fine.

Then he pushed him back out of the bathroom.

The push startled a laugh out of him. From exactly where he wanted to be right now to back on the march.

"Cruel man."

A march to another place he'd like to be, granted. But the future was a vague and uncertain thing, even a future only a few steps away. That present had been perfect, and he reaches out to grab one of Poe's arms without thinking about it, trying to pull him close again.

Edited 2016-01-28 14:20 (UTC)

"You have no idea," Poe promised, the grin splitting his lips as he let himself be tugged back, though he kept pressing Finn back to the bed.

They weren't dry yet. The towel was being completely used in ineffectual ways, mostly to help him keep a grip on Finn, but they weren't exactly moving back quickly since he kept getting distracted by Finn's mouth and hands. So they weren't as wet as they could have been, when Poe finally pushed Finn down firmly onto the bed and took a hard kiss.

"My turn."

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