Work Text:
Poe stood at his work bench, fiddling with something mechanical. Finn shuffled around nearby, tidying up the messy space, quietly enjoying Poe's company. He got a whiff of something, something musky, something fresh and tangy, something that stuck to his tongue like the first bite of cold fruit.
'It's Poe,' his brain supplies, unasked. Finn revels in it momentarily, wanting it to seep into his pores, his very being. He hasn't smelled it this strong in a while, and allows himself to close his eyes, feel the weight of the scent on his tongue. His body moves on its own, pulled towards Poe like a moth to a flame. He sidles up behind him, his chest fully pressed to Poe's back, arms wrapped tight around his middle. Poe immediately leans into his touch, bringing a hand away from his tools to meet Finn's on his side. Finn muses on how sweet Poe is with him, absolutely melting, folding, bending for him without Finn even needing to ask. Finn has always been enough for him. He nuzzles the juncture between Poe's neck and shoulder, love-sick smile plastered on his face.
"What's up buddy?" Poe asks, voice warm, fond.
"You smell so good, Poe," Finn replies, face all but pressed into Poe's neck, voice rumbling against his skin.
"Is that right?"
"Yeah it's like-"
Finn stops short, and both of them stiffen in realization: Poe smells good . He smells real good. The scent of mechanical lubricant and tropical hair products has fallen away completely, replaced now with humid summer heat and crushed flower petals.
"Finn? Finn, I uh…"
Finn doesn't hear the rest of what Poe says, not really. How could he have not noticed? How could he let Poe get so far gone? How could he not notice the little pouch of fat his Poe developed over the last month? How could he not notice his heavy stubble on its way to becoming a beard? How could he leave his Poe, his soul, his mate like this, aching and wanting and ripe and lonely and-
Without a second thought, Finn quickly clears space on the work table, and bends Poe over, forcing his chest against the surface. Poe makes a questioning sound as he's bent over, preparing to move, but Finn takes two fingers and rubs harshly over the seam of Poe' pants; he must be wet through his underwear at least, to be scenting this strongly, and Finn needs to feel it. Poe moans brokenly at the pressure, as if he'd been waiting for it, aching for it, needlessly holding himself back, and arches into Finn's touch. Finn cups him, rubbing the heel of his hand in firm, tight circles. Poe throws his head back in appreciation.
"Yes! God yes Finn! I'm so…"
Again, Finn doesn't hear him, because when he pulled his hand away from Poe to adjust himself in his pants, it was damp. Poe wasn't just wet, he was soaked.
Finn makes a sort of rumbling sound in his chest, and drops to his knees, he needs to, he just needs to get more of that scent, more of Poe. He holds Poe firmly by the hips and shoves his face between his cheeks, over his pants like an animal. The scent bursts across his senses, settling somewhere deep and liquid in his gut. He could eat Poe out for hours, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of him, absolutely drunk on his taste, but the smell of him right now? Finn was a goner.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't pull your pants down and fuck you over this bench Poe," Finn says evenly, the calm before the storm.
Poe either can't think of one, or he was tongue-tied, the change between Finn's rough actions and his calmly posed question giving him whiplash. Finn takes his somewhat stunned silence as acquiescence, and expertly unbuckles Poe's belt. The clinking sound seems to knock some sense into Poe, and he says, weakly, without heat, "We already have a kid, he just turned two!"
Finn considered this, rolled the thought around in his head a little, nodded sagely.
"Let's make another," he says, with an air of finality. Before Poe can form a retort, Finn shoves his pants and underwear off in one go.
Finn is eye level with Poe's sex, and his stomach twists with pure lust. He never gets tired of just looking at it, those soft, hairy folds. Finn places a hand on both of Poe's cheeks and spreads them, his breath falling out of him in a huff at what he sees. Poe was wet, practically dripping, his hole twitching, winking at Finn, drawing him in. His clit throbbed along with Poe's frenetic heartbeat. He's plum-brown down there, his insides an inviting dark pink. Finn pursed his lips and blew hard on Poe's hole, because he knows it makes Poe shiver when he's sensitive like this. As if on command, a fine tremor ran up Poe's body, followed by a soft gasp. Spurred by the sound, Finn leans forward, lips connecting with Poe in a nearly chaste manner, before darting his tongue out to swipe between his folds. Poe howled as Finn tasted him, as he teased him, as he licked away all the slick gathered there, more for his own satisfaction than Poe's pleasure. He wastes no time licking into Poe, sticking his tongue inside him.
He's butter soft, zero resistance, and Finn's tongue goes deep , easily. Poe clenched down on the intrusion, his insides throbbing, hips canting backwards, legs trying and failing to spread wider. He's trying to say something, he's trying to form a sentence, but each wiggle of Finn's tongue seems to wind him. Finn knows what he wants though, he knows what he's asking for. Something bigger, something harder, something to fill him up.
He pulls away from Poe, who groans open-mouthed at the loss, and raises up, unbuckling his own pants with fumbling, frustrated hands. After an eternity of 3 seconds, his pants were shoved down just enough to let his dick finally spring free. He was hard and throbbing, his tip leaking pre-cum already, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he wraps a hand around his dick and squeezes.
Poe angled his head at the sound, clearly knowing what came next.
"Finn," he starts, voice reedy, "shouldn't we at least go back to our rooms?" He reaches his hand back, perhaps grabbing for Finn, perhaps trying to push him away. Finn doesn't know why Poe plays this game, why he gets so skittish at this point in his cycle. Like he expects Finn to just stand by and twiddle his thumbs while Poe is so horny that his underwear is in a perpetual state of wetness and he looks ready to cum at the slightest touch.
"Why're you playing with me, Poe?" Finn asks. He gently grabs Poe's wrist and brings his hand to grasp at his cock. Poe's grip tightens on its own.
"Look what you do to me baby," he continues, voice barely above a husky whisper, "why are you acting all shy?" He brings his hips forward, just a few inches, just enough to tease along Poe's folds with the head of his dick. Poe lets out a sobbing sort of moan, releasing Finn's dick to support his upper body on the table.
Finn sort of takes his time here, Poe's folds were wet with fresh slick, and he wanted his dick coated. He wanted Poe begging for it.
He grabs hold of Poe's hips firmly, rocking him bodily backwards, rubbing his dick against his clit.
"Is this what you want, Poe?" Finn croons in his ear. Poe's hips jump and twitch with each brush of Finn's dick to his clit, the stimulation was enticing, but not nearly enough. Poe minutely shook his head and murmured something.
"Hm? I can't hear you over all this." Finn stopped speaking and in his and Poe's silence, the sticky, sloppy, slippery sound of Finn's cock sliding through Poe's wet folds seems to ring in Poe's ears.
Utterly, helplessly turned on, Poe slumps against the table, submitting as best as he could, and whines low and long and frustrated before conceding,
"Finn, Please! I need it!" He reaches between his legs and spreads himself, as if Finn needed directions, "please, just fucking give it to me!"
Finn smirks, a mean little thing.
"All you had to do was ask."
Finn was done teasing himself and Poe, he needed to be inside him now . Finn would normally stretch him, slide his fingers in deep, one at a time to make sure Poe was ready for him, maybe even work an orgasm out of him to be sure he was truly prepared.
This time, Finn couldn't have stuck anything in him but his dick if he tried.
He lines himself up, nudges the head of his dick inside, feels Poe's wet, searing heat and just slams the rest home, unable to help himself. When his hips meet Poe's ass, it sounds like a soft clap, reverberating through the hangar.
Finn hears Poe this time, a cacophony of choked off gasps and high, breathy moans. Finn knows his eyes are rolling back. He can feel him clenching around his dick, feels his thighs shaking and knees knocking. Poe raises on his tip-toes for a minute, his body tensing and untensing, holding back a whine deep in his throat. Then Finn feels it.
Poe clenches down hard, rhythmically, milking his dick, and he cums, a burst of slick dribbling past Finn's length. The inside of Poe's thighs are sticky with it, and it rolls down further to stain the pants pooled at his calves. He's wet and messy, panting and sweating, cumming on Finn's cock from just one thrust.
Finn feels mean then, just a little. He brings one hand around and presses it to Poe's lower belly, firmly. Poe almost screams then, a guttural sound torn from his throat, which trails off into an outright whimper, as his knees turn in towards each other. The added pressure must have drawn another, smaller orgasm out of him making it harder for him to hold his weight. Or maybe it elongated his first one. Finn couldn't find it in himself to care either way, and pressed a little harder, wanting to feel the outline of his length inside Poe.
"Finn! Ple-please!" came Poe's voice, croaky and breathless. He squirms in Finn's one handed grip and his hips twitch. To get away, or to get more, Finn wasn't sure.
"Please what, baby?" Finn asks, sweet as anything, as if he hadn't shoved his cock in in one go and pressed hard on Poe's tummy.
Poe looks at him then, shows Finn his face, blush high on his cheeks and sweat on his brow, lips bitten red, eyes wet with tears. He looks divine.
"Please Finn... don’t stop."
Finn smiles, a filthy, wide smile.
"There's my hoe Poe!"
“...what?”
“It’s my secret nickname for you when you’re like this.”
Poe rolls his eyes, hard, and starts throwing his ass back since Finn was too preoccupied with being funny to fuck him properly.
They groan in unison at the steady, even pace Poe sets. Finn could barely handle it; it had caught him by surprise, and the pap pap pap of Poe’s ass meeting his thighs and the squelching sounds of his slick, and the unselfconscious way Poe moaned, and the soft feel of his hips in his hands all had Finn’s eyes rolling, had him heaving out breathy moans, had him holding on for dear life. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his face, knowing he wasn't going to last. Maybe with enough concentr-
“Finn! Fuck me!” Poe ordered, grinding his ass back particularly hard.
“ Oh , I’m gonna cum,” Finn curls over Poe’s back, holding his hips in a vice grip, he tilts them, making Poe arch his back. Poe wiggles, just a bit, just enough to test how tight Finn’s grip was, and that’s all it takes for Finn to go over the edge. He grinds his hips forward, just to sheath himself in Poe just a few more precious fractions of an inch.
And he cums for what feels like minutes. He bites down on Poe’s shoulder to suppress what was sure to be a howling moan, he feels his toes curl in his shoes, shivers wrack his spine.
After collecting himself, he grabs the base of his dick to pull out, and when he does, it’s a fucking mess. His dick is shiny with Poe’s slick, a thin line of it still connecting the two of them. Frothy cum leaks out of Poe, mixed with his own juices. Finn sees where the excess fluid went, watches as it slides right down Poe’s thighs. He feels his dick throb in his grip, small beads of come still forming on his tip, orgasm dragged out from the sight. It was like each thrust had forced more juices out of Poe. Finn wanted to test that theory.
He lines himself up again, still rock hard and ready to go rounds. He doesn’t peel his eyes away from the sight of himself disappearing inside Poe. He goes slow this time, relishing in the sight, the feel, just savoring it.
Once he’s fully seated, he draws back out for a quick, shallow thrust, and watches, barely breathing, as the action forces his cum out of Poe. He sets a nice pace, really just bouncing Poe on his dick, and every thrust makes Poe drip. They were making such a mess. Finn moaned helplessly when Poe started pushing back, meeting him thrust for thrust. It didn’t matter that they were still in the hangar, Finn couldn’t stop fucking him if he tried.
It’s not like Poe minded anyway.
His palms were flat on his work bench, head alternately hung between his shoulders and staring blankly forward, jaw dropped open, streaming praise, moans, whines, and Finn . He wasn’t drooling yet; Finn could fix that.
Finn carefully gathers a handful of Poe’s curls, and pulls his head up, steady and firm. Finn felt Poe clench around him for it, and moans before saying, right into Poe’s ear, “How are you supposed to get knocked up when all my cum is leaking out of you?”
Poe rolls his eyes over to look at him, hazy but desperate.
“I dunno,” he responds, sounding truly lost, “keep fucking me?” Whether it was a solution, or a suggestion, Finn didn’t know, but was happy to oblige.
“Good idea,” he says good-naturedly, then, “take your pants off for me, baby.”
Poe’s pants were still pooled around his calves and by now were covered in so many fluids that they were rendered unwearable anyway. It didn’t stop Poe from protesting however.
“What if someone sees?”
Finn, ridiculously horny at this point, releases his grip on Poe’s hair, and responds quickly, placatingly, “Poe, baby, no one with the ability to hear will come anywhere near here with the way you’re kicking up a fuss. Now take them off, please, they’re getting in the way.”
Poe hangs his head, likely blushing like a virgin, but obliges, by fishing a foot out of a single pants leg.
Close enough. Finn kicks Poe’s legs apart, readjusts his grip on his hips, and starts jackhammering into him.
Poe nearly yelps at the intense first thrust, hands scrambling for a hold on the workbench, but the sound morphs into a continuous, droning, ahhh , as Finn starts to hit all the right places. His dick hits the back every time, the drag of it along his inner walls makes his toes curl, Finn’s heavy balls slap forward onto Poe’s clit sending extra jolts of pleasure. Slight changes in Finn’s angles had heat blooming in his belly and sparks going off in his head. Especially this angle, this angle is just right, it’s just right-
His eyes fly open, and his voice goes high and tight, “Finn, right there, right there right there right the-”
Poe was cumming, hard. His leg twitches and jumps with the force of it, and Finn, endlessly committed to Poe’s pleasure, reaches around and palms him, in tight circles, heightening and lengthening Poe’s orgasm until,
“Oooh I’m gonna-I’m gonna!” Poe gasps out. And then he does, he squirts, Finn’s still moving hand making it splash everywhere. His eyes roll to the back of his head, head thrown back, not even moaning, as he experiences waves of rolling pleasure.
Just as he’s sliding into hypersensitivity, Finn releases him, and Poe slumps on the bench, completely winded. His knees are dangerously wobbly, thighs absolute jelly, as he comes down and catches his breath.
Finn taps his hip, he still wasn’t done. “Get on your back baby, get up on the table.”
Poe is slow to move, first glowering over his shoulder at Finn, locking him in a hazy-eyed stare. Then, liquid, slow, sex-drunkedly, he smiles and says, “You got it buddy.”
Finn pulls out and they both groan at the loss. After a bit of maneuvering, and rearranging of the few items left on the bench (read: Finn pushing everything onto the floor and bodily lifting Poe), Poe is on his back, knees bent, a few inches of his ass hanging over the edge.
“Hold your thighs Poe.”
Poe visibly gulped, but didn’t hesitate to reach behind his knees and hoist his thighs towards his chest. He’s no spring chicken, but he can manage this much. It does the trick, putting him on display, hole spread wide and winking. His face burns, but he can’t muster up a shred of shame; this position feels good as fuck.
Finn, ever appreciative, slides a hand up and down one of Poe’s thighs, and rubs the head of his dick against Poe’s folds, cruel enough to tease him, or sentimental enough to savor every moment. He smacks it against his fat clit, just to hear Poe’s soft cry. He teases it around his hole, just rubbing a slow circle. He glances up, meeting Poe’s eyes. He’s biting his lip hard, eyes impatient and greedy.
Poe gathers the last braincells he has to demand, “Can you hurry the fuck up Finn? How flexible do you think I am?!”
Finn has to chuckle, but doesn’t argue with him. Instead, he slides in, Poe’s silky, hot walls welcoming him easily. No matter how many times Finn slides into Poe, he never gets used to it. Every time Finn is so taken aback by his heat, his tightness, his slickness, that he has to fight between the urge to cum immediately and making it last as long as he can.
Finn doesn’t need to thrust hard in this position, with Poe this open he drives in deep easily, and at this angle, even the lightest thrusts seem to brush all Poe’s good spots. So yes, Finn doesn’t have to thrust hard in this position.
He does anyway. He doesn’t want a single thought running through Poe’s head. He holds Poe where he hangs off the table, meeting his asscheeks with solid thrusts, never pulling out too far, pounding him, making the poor workbench creak with it.
There wasn’t any space in Poe’s head for other thoughts; just as one arose, it was interrupted by pleasure signals. It literally took his full mental capacity to moan fucked out bits of praise.
“It feels sooo good Finn, sooo fucking good, feels like I’m gonna cum,” It wasn’t said in Standard. It didn’t matter.
“I know baby, feels good for me too,” Finn replies effortlessly; he had learned Poe’s native tongue a while ago.
In this position, all Poe could do was take it , hold himself up and open for it, ride it out as Finn hits that spot again and again and again.
“Can you take one more for me baby? Just one more, then we can go clean up.”
Before Poe could conceive of a response, he feels Finn begin to thumb at his clit in time with his thrusts.
“Cum for me baby, one more time, please, I just wanna see you cum, love the way you cum, so sexy,” Finn chants, practically drooling. He was talking in his deep husky voice, his, “I’m about to cum” voice. Poe was weak for it.
The sight and sound of Finn moaning, begging Poe to cum, combined with his now sloppy thumbing, and his relentless thrusting, broke the dam again, and Poe gushed. Finn, pervert that he is, angled it so that it splashed upwards, arcing wet and messy over Poe. Finn pulled back to look at his handiwork. Poe looked like he won a wet t-shirt contest, tan shirt turned nearly translucent and sticking to him, a few drops even reaching his face and hair. He was panting and shaking, grip slowly slipping from its place behind his own knees. He looked completely satiated. Finn couldn’t hold back even if he tried, he came, dropping down to cage Poe in on the bench, aftershocks wracking through his body.
They breathed together, completely drained, until Finn was ready to pull out.
Poe looks down at his wrecked clothes, trashed work station, and obliterated hole, and can hardly believe he was standing upright fully clothed half an hour ago. All he could muster up the energy to say was, “Thanks.”
Finn responds, with a shit eating grin, "Anytime!"