[ Rex swallows at that tiny kiss to his hip, eyes wide as he looks down at Poe's lips, red and slick with spit, arousal spiking down his spine. He did that, in some small way. He's not sure if it has such a great effect on him because of how starved they all are for intimacy, in the same way that they take refuge in the warmth of another body beside them, or something else, but he's not bothering to push the feeling away anymore.
He tries to hold back from straightforwardly fucking Poe's throat - that can't be pleasant - but he can't help the stutter of his hips as Poe takes him deeper and deeper, his palm large and rough on the back of Poe's head as he chases down his own pleasure, trying to stay on that knife's edge as long as possible. It's not out of some misplaced pride of having to last longer, or out of some desire to prove a point. It's just so different from anything he's experienced before. Unlike furtively jerking off in whatever private moments he's been able to find, more out of function than out of pure pleasure, he wants this moment to last. He doesn't bother restraining the choked groan that Poe forces out of him, finally letting go, tongue loosened by pleasure far more easily than it ever has with drink. ]
Fuck. I didn't know it'd feel so -- [ He cuts himself off with a grunt. He may be inexperienced, but he's also pretty sure that Poe is just excellent at this. He shouldn't have expected anything different. ] Like it wasn't enough for you to be the best goddamn pilot in the galaxy.
[ It's nothing he hasn't said before. He's proud of their little ragtag group. He's damn proud of them. Skill's always been something he admires and when it comes to Andy and Poe, it's something he admires on a regular basis, puffed up with as much pride as though it's his own success, not just that of his comrades. It's some lingering instinct from being a Captain, he supposes. He's just never said it quite like this before.
Finally, he can't hold back any longer, and tugs at Poe's hair again. ] I'm close.
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He tries to hold back from straightforwardly fucking Poe's throat - that can't be pleasant - but he can't help the stutter of his hips as Poe takes him deeper and deeper, his palm large and rough on the back of Poe's head as he chases down his own pleasure, trying to stay on that knife's edge as long as possible. It's not out of some misplaced pride of having to last longer, or out of some desire to prove a point. It's just so different from anything he's experienced before. Unlike furtively jerking off in whatever private moments he's been able to find, more out of function than out of pure pleasure, he wants this moment to last. He doesn't bother restraining the choked groan that Poe forces out of him, finally letting go, tongue loosened by pleasure far more easily than it ever has with drink. ]
Fuck. I didn't know it'd feel so -- [ He cuts himself off with a grunt. He may be inexperienced, but he's also pretty sure that Poe is just excellent at this. He shouldn't have expected anything different. ] Like it wasn't enough for you to be the best goddamn pilot in the galaxy.
[ It's nothing he hasn't said before. He's proud of their little ragtag group. He's damn proud of them. Skill's always been something he admires and when it comes to Andy and Poe, it's something he admires on a regular basis, puffed up with as much pride as though it's his own success, not just that of his comrades. It's some lingering instinct from being a Captain, he supposes. He's just never said it quite like this before.
Finally, he can't hold back any longer, and tugs at Poe's hair again. ] I'm close.