[ ... Okay. The defensiveness tells Peter that Poe's not just joking around, and Peter's smile turns a little sharper. ]
Hey, I'm not criticizing. I was just trying to figure out if you were being for real or not.
You do tend to bullshit.
[ Not that Peter has any room to complain about that, considering he's practically made of bullshit.
He goes back to what he was doing, mouthing at the sensitive point just beneath Poe's jaw, tasting that faint trace of salt, feeling the rhythm of Poe's heartbeat against his lips. ]
"Droid," huh?
[ And he repeats it a little more experimentally, shifting so he's better settled between Poe's legs. ]
But Peter is back to leaving those trails of heat along every tantalizingly sensitive inch of Poe's throat, and his breathing is quicker, his pulse thumping faster.
It's hard not to get ahead of himself when he even likes the simple ways Peter touches him. ]
[ He feels the way Poe's pulse jumps, hears the way his breathing roughens, and he smiles to himself, nipping at the juncture of Poe's shoulder and neck. ]
So what kinda wild shit are you getting up to?
And better question – why am I just now finding out about this?
[ In Peter’s defense, their hookups are usually pretty spontaneous and in the wake of plenty of drinks. They’re on tight schedules, and things just sort of happen – which is great, but more about “where’s the lube,” and not “check out this leash and collar.”
That standard fare is about what Poe indulges in regularly, anyway. He doesn’t tend to have the hours he might want to dedicate to really getting down with someone, considering most of his life is spent ducking the First Order and running missions for the Resistance.
That kind of takes priority over kinky sex. ]
I like how you think I have time to get up to much.
[ His tone is light, hedged by a breathy laugh, though it betrays the reality of how he scrapes by these days: a commander of the Resistance, not a foot soldier or volunteer mechanic. He has places to be more often than not.
Of course, in his earlier days running drugs and other smuggling-related or dubious activities, hedonism tended to go hand-in-hand with his life. He’s done a lot of growing up since then – even if his proclivities haven’t necessarily changed. ]
You say that like I haven't just been using it for ages.
[ Poe is momentarily distracted by how good Peter looks hovering over him like that, with his messy hair and that insufferable look on his face that has absolutely been on Poe's own more than once.
(Like, repeatedly.)
He huffs a short sigh, his hand dropping to Peter's shoulder to absently knead into muscle. ]
Maybe you're overestimating the kind of wild shit I'm doing, but— y'know. It's not a bad idea to go with something distinct when you're upping the intensity.
Yeah, I get that. Having a safeword for this is legitimate.
You're sure you don't want anything on top of that?
[ He curls his fingers around one of Poe's wrists, before pressing it down beside Poe's head. His grip is tight, pointed, but not yet unyielding. A demonstration, more than anything. ]
'Cause I could hold you down. Or I could cuff you. Or whatever else you think you might wanna try.
[ Poe is totally trying to keep his cool right now, but despite his best efforts, his breathing catches sharply when Peter presses his wrist against the bed. They’re both strong, obviously, but Peter’s definitely got the height and broadness going for him, so realistically, getting out of something might be a trial for Poe, scrappy as he may be. But he’s also not concerned about Peter and what he might do with the upper hand.
He trusts the guy a lot more than he realizes.
Poe clears his throat so he doesn’t accidentally croak when he speaks. ]
Is this where you tell me you’ve just got cuffs lying around?
[ Poe doesn’t look relieved or disappointed by the gentle application of brakes – but if anything, his eyes light a little when Peter says “next time.” ]
You know that means you have to come back to me in one piece, Starboy.
[ He exhales shakily, turning his head to kiss the heel of Peter’s palm. ]
[ Mr. Poe "Every Job is Practically a Suicide Mission" Dameron. But it comes out lightly, teasingly, even if it is a little more real than Peter intends it to be.
He covers for the misstep by ducking down, capturing Poe's mouth in a heated kiss. His hand leaves Poe's face to curl around his wrist again, pressing it down into the mattress. ]
This still okay? Or is this a "next time" thing, too?
[ The thing about Poe is that he can be very easily distracted with the right stimuli – like that deeper kiss and the way Peter pins his wrist again. The reaction is still pretty immediate – the little gasp, the way his heart rate kicks up a notch – but this time, his nod is eager instead of trying to ease off into pretending he's keeping his perfect cool.
(It keeps him from thinking about the niggling reminder at the back of his mind that their time together is never guaranteed.) ]
He guides Poe's wrists up over his head, crossing them so he can pin them with one hand. They're probably on an equal level strength-wise, if Peter's honest (even if his pride wants to insist that Peter is obviously – obviously – the stronger of the two), and he's reasonably sure that Poe could twist his way out of Peter's grip, if he really needed to.
But for now, Peter's banking on Poe wanting this, at least for the moment, and that Peter can distract him successfully enough that it won't be an issue.
He slots his mouth over Poe's again – heated again, but sharper, more insistent. His teeth catch Poe's lower lip, his tongue slips into Poe's mouth, and he's far more demanding, far more hungry than he's been all night. The guy asked for rough, and Peter's more than happy to offer that. ]
[ Whatever reluctance was still at the edge of Poe's awareness drops when Peter's lips crash into his own. (Because he trusts Peter, and he's genuinely willing to believe that this compromising position isn't going to go anywhere he doesn't want it to – but self-preservation always makes him know his exits, even now.)
The sting of Peter's teeth startles another sharp inhale out of Poe, and his head swims with the sudden wet slide of Peter's tongue; he's momentarily caught by surprise. But his brain catches up to the rest of him quickly enough, and he meets Peter's kiss with building veracity, a similar edge of hunger burning at the sidelines.
His eagerness starts to get the better of him as he presses up into the kiss, starting to strain against the grip on his wrists. He's not really pulling, not really trying to yank his hands free, but he's testing the strength pinning him down – and also just trying to get closer to Peter, since everyone knows how damn hard it is for Poe to keep still. ]
[ Better still, once Poe starts kissing him back, once he starts moving, wanting and demanding. Peter smiles into the kiss, his grip tightening briefly just to show he doesn't intend on letting Poe go anywhere – not yet, anyway.
He pushes himself up, giving himself a few seconds to admire Poe beneath him – flushed and wanting, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Dark eyes and swollen lips. ]
You look good like this.
[ His free hand smooths down Poe's bare chest, resting against his sternum briefly to feel the eager rhythm of his heartbeat. ]
Next time we do this, if you let me cuff you, I'll just take my sweet fucking time. I'll leave you twisting for so long that you're begging me to touch your cock.
[ Poe almost chases after Peter's lips when the kiss breaks, leaning up with a disappointed sound that catches in his throat. But when it's clear he's not getting close enough to get at Peter's mouth again, he flops back against the bed, trying to catch his breath as his pulse thunders under Peter's palm. Every word sends his heart skipping, and his dick is riding a traitorous line as the provided image just makes him throb. ]
Kriff, you're a sadist sometimes.
[ He laughs hoarsely as he wets his lips, his fingers flexing and tightening, again testing the way Peter holds him down. ]
Talkin' like you don't already take your damn time.
[ He asks, while he's pointedly keeping away from Poe's dick – but he catches the way it twitches as Poe undoubtedly imagines exactly what Peter's saying. ]
I'm an absolute angel.
[ His sharp, crooked grin quickly betrays him, though, and Peter reaches for the bottle of lube again. One handed, he flicks open the cap, spinning the bottle around to pour a generous amount onto his palm. He clicks the cap shut against the base of his thumb and tosses the bottle away.
(He's had a lot of practice, apparently.)
He spread the lube onto his fingers before teasing Poe's entrance with quick, shallow thrusts. ]
'Sides, I don't think you can say you don't like it.
[ Considering Poe's hard-on is very clearly showing his hand. ]
[ The laugh Poe barks out is much less effective in its overall air of skeptical sarcasm, and he opens his mouth to tell Peter how completely full of bullshit he is, but he's distracted by the dextrous way Peter finds the lube one-handed.
Again, Poe might have commented if he wasn't immediately focusing on the reintroduction of Peter's fingers. He's still reasonably stretched from earlier, still slick with Peter's cum and what was left of the lube, so there's no real burn that accompanies the quick, teasing way Peter starts to fuck him. But that's probably why it gets to Poe so quickly, because he's already prepped, already handled more, so this is just winding him up.
He groans through his teeth as he bites down on his bottom lip, drawing up a leg and folding at the knee to give Peter better access. ]
[ Peter's had a lot of fucking awful experiences before which, is why he's careful. He's not a patient guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he can at least manage it in cases like this.
It won't kill them if he uses some extra lube. It won't kill them if he takes his time to ensure Poe is prepped and ready.
And it definitely won't kill them if Peter slides in three fingers, curling them to seek out that oh so familiar bundle of nerves. ]
[ Any snarky commentary on the tip of Poe's tongue flies right out the window as Peter goes from zero to sixty fast enough to make Poe's head spin. Admittedly, it's what Poe was asking for, but when Peter drops it in his lap so suddenly, it's hard to recover.
Especially when Peter so expertly presses right up against his prostate.
He shouts and strains against Peter's hand on his wrists, and this time, it's far less an attempt to test Peter's grip, and more because Poe is a loud, squirmy son of a bitch. His arms shake a little when they meet resistance, and he gasps for breath, his eyes wide as he presses his head back against the bed. ]
[ Peter's hardly surprised when Poe bucks, when he squirms and writhes. He presses down more firmly, more pointedly, maintaining his grip to keep Poe from freeing himself too soon. ]
What, first I'm a tease, now I'm going too fast?
[ Peter heaves out a dramatic sigh, but that feral grin stays on his face. He doesn't let up, keeping his fingers exactly where they are, circling Poe's prostate.
He's used to falling into a more dominant role when he falls into bed with someone. He likes making people feel good, and given all the shit Poe gets up to, Peter doesn't doubt for a second that the guy needs some stress relief, that he needs someone else to take the reins for a little while. ]
[ Poe's hips keep futilely bucking against Peter's hand, his whole body tense as heat rockets up his spine, filling every nerve down to his fingertips. It's hard to focus on whatever Peter's saying now, impossible to summon up anything to contribute that isn't a babbled string of curses and growls as his heel kicks and slips over Peter's sheets in effort to find purchase – either to lessen the intensity of the stimulation or push towards it; it's hard to tell. ]
Peter.
[ That's one of the more coherent things Poe manages as he pulls at his wrists, groaning and clenching his teeth so tight his jaw practically creaks. One thing he will never try to deny about Peter, even teasingly, is that he's definitely good at this. Maybe infuriatingly so, sometimes, but he knows what the hell he's doing. Poe can appreciate that there's something more comfortably familiar about fucking another human, but that doesn't usually change much about how Poe picks his partners; species is all well and good, but Peter at least knows how his body works.
[ Peter can't help the way he grins, the way something curls in his chest with satisfaction. After a few more heartbeats, though, he eases up the pressure, slipping his fingers away from that bundle of nerves. He starts fucking Poe with his fingers in earnest, abandoning that teasing pace from earlier. ]
You sound amazing.
[ And there's a rougher edge to his voice. His own cock throbs with how Poe sounds, how he looks, how he feels. Peter's body thrums with want, but for once, he keeps it in check. ]
Probably a good thing for you that I'm not staying longer. Imagine how fucking desperate you'd be if I kept you just like this till you absolutely had to leave.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Hey, I'm not criticizing. I was just trying to figure out if you were being for real or not.
You do tend to bullshit.
[ Not that Peter has any room to complain about that, considering he's practically made of bullshit.
He goes back to what he was doing, mouthing at the sensitive point just beneath Poe's jaw, tasting that faint trace of salt, feeling the rhythm of Poe's heartbeat against his lips. ]
"Droid," huh?
[ And he repeats it a little more experimentally, shifting so he's better settled between Poe's legs. ]
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Look who's talkin'.
[ Like they're not both pro bullshitters.
But Peter is back to leaving those trails of heat along every tantalizingly sensitive inch of Poe's throat, and his breathing is quicker, his pulse thumping faster.
It's hard not to get ahead of himself when he even likes the simple ways Peter touches him. ]
Yeah, "droid." Got a better suggestion?
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[ He feels the way Poe's pulse jumps, hears the way his breathing roughens, and he smiles to himself, nipping at the juncture of Poe's shoulder and neck. ]
So what kinda wild shit are you getting up to?
And better question – why am I just now finding out about this?
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[ In Peter’s defense, their hookups are usually pretty spontaneous and in the wake of plenty of drinks. They’re on tight schedules, and things just sort of happen – which is great, but more about “where’s the lube,” and not “check out this leash and collar.”
That standard fare is about what Poe indulges in regularly, anyway. He doesn’t tend to have the hours he might want to dedicate to really getting down with someone, considering most of his life is spent ducking the First Order and running missions for the Resistance.
That kind of takes priority over kinky sex. ]
I like how you think I have time to get up to much.
[ His tone is light, hedged by a breathy laugh, though it betrays the reality of how he scrapes by these days: a commander of the Resistance, not a foot soldier or volunteer mechanic. He has places to be more often than not.
Of course, in his earlier days running drugs and other smuggling-related or dubious activities, hedonism tended to go hand-in-hand with his life. He’s done a lot of growing up since then – even if his proclivities haven’t necessarily changed. ]
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[ And he points it out brightly.
He pauses, propping himself up with both hands pressed into the bed, bracketing Poe's head. ]
And we've definitely got time now. And last I checked, I was supposed to be distracting you from my seriously shitty time management skills.
So...
[ Peter trails off, cutting Poe an expectant look. ]
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[ Poe is momentarily distracted by how good Peter looks hovering over him like that, with his messy hair and that insufferable look on his face that has absolutely been on Poe's own more than once.
(Like, repeatedly.)
He huffs a short sigh, his hand dropping to Peter's shoulder to absently knead into muscle. ]
Maybe you're overestimating the kind of wild shit I'm doing, but— y'know. It's not a bad idea to go with something distinct when you're upping the intensity.
[ Which, like, is what he asked for? ]
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You're sure you don't want anything on top of that?
[ He curls his fingers around one of Poe's wrists, before pressing it down beside Poe's head. His grip is tight, pointed, but not yet unyielding. A demonstration, more than anything. ]
'Cause I could hold you down. Or I could cuff you. Or whatever else you think you might wanna try.
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He trusts the guy a lot more than he realizes.
Poe clears his throat so he doesn’t accidentally croak when he speaks. ]
Is this where you tell me you’ve just got cuffs lying around?
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Peter smiles.
He eases his grip, curling his hand over the line of Poe's jaw. ]
I've dabbled in bounty-hunting.
[ Usually the easier jobs – someone skipping bail or some scrawny so-and-so wanted for minor infractions. ]
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Poe, as much as he tries to stay visibly at ease, gulps as Peter’s broad hand curls under his jaw.
thisisfinethisisfinethisisfinethisisfine
His eyes are darker, heavy-lidded, and he does his best to keep his voice level. ]
I guess that’s— a pretty good reason to keep them.
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You okay there?
[ It's easy to mistake that sharp reaction for arousal, and easier still to assume that a lack of immediate rejection counts as agreement.
But.
Peter would much rather have enthusiastic consent. (Ironic, considering Peter has an awful habit of hemming and hawing, himself.)
His thumb traces the swell of Poe's cheek. ]
We can keep going just like this. Save the new stuff for next time.
[ (Assuming there's a next time, a traitorous, cynical voice whispers at the back of his head.) ]
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You know that means you have to come back to me in one piece, Starboy.
[ He exhales shakily, turning his head to kiss the heel of Peter’s palm. ]
I’m good.
[ ... Hard as fuck again, but good. ]
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[ Mr. Poe "Every Job is Practically a Suicide Mission" Dameron. But it comes out lightly, teasingly, even if it is a little more real than Peter intends it to be.
He covers for the misstep by ducking down, capturing Poe's mouth in a heated kiss. His hand leaves Poe's face to curl around his wrist again, pressing it down into the mattress. ]
This still okay? Or is this a "next time" thing, too?
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(It keeps him from thinking about the niggling reminder at the back of his mind that their time together is never guaranteed.) ]
No, yeah, definitely okay.
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He guides Poe's wrists up over his head, crossing them so he can pin them with one hand. They're probably on an equal level strength-wise, if Peter's honest (even if his pride wants to insist that Peter is obviously – obviously – the stronger of the two), and he's reasonably sure that Poe could twist his way out of Peter's grip, if he really needed to.
But for now, Peter's banking on Poe wanting this, at least for the moment, and that Peter can distract him successfully enough that it won't be an issue.
He slots his mouth over Poe's again – heated again, but sharper, more insistent. His teeth catch Poe's lower lip, his tongue slips into Poe's mouth, and he's far more demanding, far more hungry than he's been all night. The guy asked for rough, and Peter's more than happy to offer that. ]
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The sting of Peter's teeth startles another sharp inhale out of Poe, and his head swims with the sudden wet slide of Peter's tongue; he's momentarily caught by surprise. But his brain catches up to the rest of him quickly enough, and he meets Peter's kiss with building veracity, a similar edge of hunger burning at the sidelines.
His eagerness starts to get the better of him as he presses up into the kiss, starting to strain against the grip on his wrists. He's not really pulling, not really trying to yank his hands free, but he's testing the strength pinning him down – and also just trying to get closer to Peter, since everyone knows how damn hard it is for Poe to keep still. ]
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He pushes himself up, giving himself a few seconds to admire Poe beneath him – flushed and wanting, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Dark eyes and swollen lips. ]
You look good like this.
[ His free hand smooths down Poe's bare chest, resting against his sternum briefly to feel the eager rhythm of his heartbeat. ]
Next time we do this, if you let me cuff you, I'll just take my sweet fucking time. I'll leave you twisting for so long that you're begging me to touch your cock.
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Kriff, you're a sadist sometimes.
[ He laughs hoarsely as he wets his lips, his fingers flexing and tightening, again testing the way Peter holds him down. ]
Talkin' like you don't already take your damn time.
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What could you possibly mean?
[ He asks, while he's pointedly keeping away from Poe's dick – but he catches the way it twitches as Poe undoubtedly imagines exactly what Peter's saying. ]
I'm an absolute angel.
[ His sharp, crooked grin quickly betrays him, though, and Peter reaches for the bottle of lube again. One handed, he flicks open the cap, spinning the bottle around to pour a generous amount onto his palm. He clicks the cap shut against the base of his thumb and tosses the bottle away.
(He's had a lot of practice, apparently.)
He spread the lube onto his fingers before teasing Poe's entrance with quick, shallow thrusts. ]
'Sides, I don't think you can say you don't like it.
[ Considering Poe's hard-on is very clearly showing his hand. ]
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Again, Poe might have commented if he wasn't immediately focusing on the reintroduction of Peter's fingers. He's still reasonably stretched from earlier, still slick with Peter's cum and what was left of the lube, so there's no real burn that accompanies the quick, teasing way Peter starts to fuck him. But that's probably why it gets to Poe so quickly, because he's already prepped, already handled more, so this is just winding him up.
He groans through his teeth as he bites down on his bottom lip, drawing up a leg and folding at the knee to give Peter better access. ]
I mean, I'm not really— much for exaggerating.
[ tell a bigger lie, poe. ]
Unlike the fuckin' tease I'm in bed with.
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It won't kill them if he uses some extra lube. It won't kill them if he takes his time to ensure Poe is prepped and ready.
And it definitely won't kill them if Peter slides in three fingers, curling them to seek out that oh so familiar bundle of nerves. ]
I've still got no idea what you're talking about.
no subject
[ Any snarky commentary on the tip of Poe's tongue flies right out the window as Peter goes from zero to sixty fast enough to make Poe's head spin. Admittedly, it's what Poe was asking for, but when Peter drops it in his lap so suddenly, it's hard to recover.
Especially when Peter so expertly presses right up against his prostate.
He shouts and strains against Peter's hand on his wrists, and this time, it's far less an attempt to test Peter's grip, and more because Poe is a loud, squirmy son of a bitch. His arms shake a little when they meet resistance, and he gasps for breath, his eyes wide as he presses his head back against the bed. ]
Fuck, y-you're trying to kill me.
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What, first I'm a tease, now I'm going too fast?
[ Peter heaves out a dramatic sigh, but that feral grin stays on his face. He doesn't let up, keeping his fingers exactly where they are, circling Poe's prostate.
He's used to falling into a more dominant role when he falls into bed with someone. He likes making people feel good, and given all the shit Poe gets up to, Peter doesn't doubt for a second that the guy needs some stress relief, that he needs someone else to take the reins for a little while. ]
You're really sending mixed signals tonight.
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Peter.
[ That's one of the more coherent things Poe manages as he pulls at his wrists, groaning and clenching his teeth so tight his jaw practically creaks. One thing he will never try to deny about Peter, even teasingly, is that he's definitely good at this. Maybe infuriatingly so, sometimes, but he knows what the hell he's doing. Poe can appreciate that there's something more comfortably familiar about fucking another human, but that doesn't usually change much about how Poe picks his partners; species is all well and good, but Peter at least knows how his body works.
And he completely knows how to exploit it, too. ]
no subject
You sound amazing.
[ And there's a rougher edge to his voice. His own cock throbs with how Poe sounds, how he looks, how he feels. Peter's body thrums with want, but for once, he keeps it in check. ]
Probably a good thing for you that I'm not staying longer. Imagine how fucking desperate you'd be if I kept you just like this till you absolutely had to leave.
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