The thing is.
The thing is, sometimes Poe wants, feels it buzz under his skin, and he's not sure how to ask for it. It's not that it's not good, with Finn and Rey. It's good, better than good, and they're learning how to touch him how he likes, ways that make him gasp for breath. He'd thought they'd be inexperienced and new at all this, and turns out he was totally wrong, turns out they know enough to grin sharp and lean in for long kisses and very quickly learn more. But the thought of asking, expressing what it is he wants them to do, it sticks in his mouth.
Maybe he's afraid of the way they'll look at him, the history they all have with it sitting heavy and undiscussed between them. Finn's seen Poe held captive and wrecked from hours of breaking (but not- not- not the way he wants, not when it's something Poe's giving freely, something he's asking for) and Poe knows Rey's been in that same interrogation room, felt the lock of restraints tight around her.
Maybe he's a little fucked up, to want like that after what happened, but it's not a new thing, it's not something he wants because of but in spite of. It's always something Poe's liked, his lovers holding him down, pulling his hair a little too hard, the sharp crack of pain and the floating warmth of endorphins after, and he's damned if he's going to let Kylo Ren take that from him too.
It's just- he doesn't know how to ask, is all.
He gets to the mess hall a little late one night, slides into the empty seat next to Rey, and she and Finn both frown at him.
"You okay?" Finn asks, concern clear in his voice, and Poe's not sure what's wrong, at first, before realizing.
"Oh," he says, tongues over the split in his lower lip, tastes a trace of metal. It's mostly stopped bleeding but it still stings, especially when he smiles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Combat training this afternoon. Pava misjudged a punch, got me right in the mouth." Finn and Rey turn, direct their frowns at Jessika, and she shrugs, holds up her hands and makes a reasonable attempt at 'contrite'.
"Sorry I messed up your boyfriend's face," she tells them easily. "What can I say. His face got in the way of my fist."
"You're pilots," Finn says, frown replaced with confusion. "Why're you even punching each other."
"Ship goes down, you gotta know how to defend yourself, right?" Poe asks, and Finn nods thoughtfully. Rey reaches out, brushes Poe's lip with her thumb. It's gentle but it stings harder at her touch, his lip swollen and a little bruised, and Poe sucks in a breath, blinks a little. How she's touching him, it's tender but it's not altogether careful, and Poe feels the burn of it, the way Rey could just press a little harder, could turn the pain into something else entirely and make him moan with it. His eyes flutter closed and then half-open, and Rey does push harder, slides her thumb along the line and then ever so slightly into his mouth before she pulls it away.
He has to take a moment, feels dazed by whatever the fuck it was she was doing, and when he finally looks up, Rey's still watching him. Her eyes are very sharp, and she looks like she's reaching a conclusion about something she's maybe been wondering for a while.
She looks like she likes the answer, Poe thinks, and can't help but hope.
That night Rey barely waits until the door to Poe's quarters is shut before she gets him up against the wall, kisses him hard enough that it re-opens the cut on his lip. Poe hisses in pain and kisses back, blood on his tongue and all his synapses firing at once, buzzing already, and all he can think is, fuck, she's going to take him apart.
"Rey!" Finn says in alarm, "Rey, careful, Poe's hurt," and Rey pulls back, grins bright and feral at Poe.
"He likes it," she says confidently, "right? You like it." Poe swallows thickly.
"Yeah," he agrees, "yeah, I- yes."
"Do you want more?" Rey asks, and Poe can only nod. "What else do you like?" she says, softer, and slides her hand up into his hair, tugs a little and listens to the way he gasps.
"Yeah," Poe says again, "and- I, uh, you could, you could hold me down? Both of you, I mean, and..." He's blushing, embarrassed with just how much he really, desperately wants this now that it's on the cards, but Rey just hums under her breath, turns to look at Finn. He looks uncertain but interested, watching them both, and Rey appears to make a decision.
"Finn," she says, "you want to hold him steady?"
"I- sure," Finn agrees, "yeah, okay, but how..." Rey tightens her fingers in Poe's hair, drags him to stand between her and Finn, kisses him again and bites at his swollen lip.
"You're sure?" she murmurs against his mouth, and Poe nods.
"If I say X-Wing, that means I need a break," he tells her, carefully light about it, and Rey smiles very seriously.
"Got it," she says, "Finn, you got that?" and Finn touches Poe's hip, leans in and presses a kiss to the nape of his neck.
"Yeah, I understand," he says, grazes his teeth over Poe's skin. "Don't worry. We'll take good care of you."
"Yes," Rey says. "We will." She hums again, shifts her weight so she's suddenly imperious, demanding. "On your knees, Poe," she says, and watches with approval as he drops to the floor.
Poe doesn't know what Rey's got planned, but being on his knees in front of her, Finn at his back, he can already feel himself begin to float loose in the headspace of it, and when he looks up at her, he knows his eyes are sleepy and hooded with wanting. Rey smiles down at him, cups his cheek, presses her fingertip over his lip again and lets him suck her finger into his mouth up to the knuckle.
"You want to be good for us?" she asks, and Poe nods, waits for her to tell him what she wants. "Put your hands up," she tells him, and when he does, Finn takes him, wraps his fingers around Poe's wrists and holds him tight. Poe struggles, just a little, just to test, and Finn presses his thumbs harder, enough that Poe can feel the faint edge of a bruise not quite beginning. Finn's hands are warm and solid and reassuring. They're not sharp, not metal, not giving him memories he'd rather forget, and Poe breathes a sigh of mingled relief and arousal.
"Good?" Finn murmurs, and Poe leans back a little more. The floor's hard on his knees, and he can already feel the stretch in his shoulders that's promising to bloom into an ache if he stays like this for much longer. His whole body feels fucking incredible. "Yeah," Finn breathes, "yeah, you're gonna be good for her, aren't you, yeah," and the heat in his voice makes Poe flush.
"You like pain," Rey says, strokes his cheek, watches his reaction. "You liked me pulling your hair, and you like this-" thumbing over the cut- "and Poe, I think you like taking it." She strokes his cheek again, her fingers feather-light, then slaps him open-handed and hard and cracking loud in the small room. The sting is immediate and Poe feels it rush through him, better than flying, better than the adrenaline of landing a hit on a TIE fighter.
"Fuck," he chokes, "fuck, Rey, please, gods, I-" She slaps him again, harder, grabs him by the chin and holds him in place. Pushes two fingers into his mouth, and Poe sucks at them, slick and wet and filthy, until Rey's eyes flutter closed.
"Look at you," Finn says, "gods, look at both of you," and he changes his grip so he's holding Poe's wrists in one hand and can grab his hair in the other. Poe doesn't think Finn gets the pain and the wanting of it, not the way Rey does, but he's giving Poe everything he wants and it's so good, it's so good. He was afraid he couldn't do this again, not after- after, afraid that it would bleed over into something that's always been beautiful for him, and the relief of finding it hasn't fills him up.
"You want more?" Rey asks, and Poe nods, feeling the drag against Finn's hand in his hair. She flicks her gaze up to Finn then, telegraphs something in her eyes that makes Finn pull Poe's head back until his throat's bared and he can feel the strain. When she hits him this time, it's open-handed and then back-handed, a light flutter of fingertips stroking across his cheekbone and then another slap. Her hand connects with his jaw and Poe feels dizzy with it, no air in his lungs. He hears himself moan, ragged, and when Rey smacks him again he cries out harder, buzzes with the adrenaline, leans into Finn's hands.
"Yeah," Finn says, "yeah, sweetheart, we've got you," and Rey smiles at that, touches Poe's cheek affectionately. The balance of hard perfect hurting and their tenderness is making Poe feel fuzzy, floating, already, and he thinks they can absolutely see it, can feel it radiating off him.
"You're going to be good for me," Rey tells him, "just like Finn says, aren't you," and without waiting for an answer she kicks off her boots, fumbles with her leggings, until she's standing half-naked in front of him. Poe whines a little in the back of his throat, wants terribly badly to bury his face against her cunt until she comes on his mouth, and Rey laughs, steps closer until she's within reach of his face. "Yes," she says, "yes, Poe, I want-" and when he licks into her, it's with Finn's fingers still twining tight into his hair. Poe can hear Finn and Rey kissing above him, can hear Rey moaning as he runs his tongue slow over her clit, and then she grabs his hair too, pulls harder, tighter, pulls until it's a brightly white edge of pain in Poe's field of vision. Finn's still got his wrists and Poe can't move, can only keep going, and he thinks he's never been so hard, ever, never wanted so much.
When Rey comes, she's loud about it, swearing in some language Poe's not sure he's ever even heard, and after a moment she steps away, collapses onto the bed. "I-" she manages, takes a deep breath, laughs a little. "Both of you. Get up here." Finn lets Poe's hands go, helps him up, and he's been kneeling for long enough that Poe feels the cramp of it, the ache that'll be worse in the morning. It's worth it, it's so worth it, especially when Rey leans back on her elbows and looks at them both heatedly.
"Finn," she says, grins at him, and Finn grins back, turns to Poe and kisses him thoroughly before tugging Poe's shirt off. The way Finn kisses is gentler, always is, but he still aims for Poe's swollen bottom lip with unerring accuracy, nips at it hard enough that Poe jolts with the sharp pain.
"We're not done with you," Finn whispers, "we're just getting started," and the promise of it gets Poe shivering again.
"Come here," Rey orders, "and get your pants off." Poe pushes them down, crawls onto the bed, and Rey nods in approval when he's on elbows and knees in front of her. "Finn's gonna make you feel so good," she tells him, and when Finn gets him slick, slides in one finger too, too slowly, it does, it makes Poe feel so good. Rey sits up, touches her palm to Poe's cheek and looks a little questioning. "You want more?" she asks, and Poe doesn't know whether she's talking about the slapping or Finn's fingers but he does, he wants more, he wants more and harder and please, gods, more.
"Like this?" Finn asks, pushes in another finger, and just as he crooks it to hit the right angle Rey slaps him again, hard, stills her hand and slaps again, again. Poe can't breathe he can't think he can't move he just- he wants, gods he wants, still, wants to come apart with Finn fucking right into him and Rey putting all her force into hitting him like she means it.
"We can- that's, yeah, just work with us, sweetheart," Rey says, breathless, and Poe realizes he's saying it all out loud, begging for it, and he'd be embarrassed except that he's finally asking and Rey saying yes, like that, it's so good it's so good.
When Finn switches up the angle, rubs his cock teasingly against Poe for a moment and then pushes in all at once, Rey's holding Poe by the hair, tight, fucking his mouth with three fingers and her thumb hard on his bruised lip. Poe aches with it, would pretty much come on the spot if he weren't so deep in the headspace of being good that he's waiting for Rey's orders, waiting to hear her say it.
She doesn't. She pulls back her fingers, scrapes her nails down the nape of his neck, and Finn slows down the movement of his hips, pulls out and then slides back in so slow Poe feels every inch of it.
"Oh, fuck," Finn says, reverent, touches Poe's hip, brushes his hand down his spine. "Fuck, Poe, you feel good, I-"
"You should-" Rey suggests, and Finn changes angle, takes Poe's cock in hand and strokes so lightly Poe cries out in frustration. "Harder, Finn," Rey says, touches Poe's cheek, tilts his chin up so he's looking at her. "You want to come apart, sweetheart? You want us to take you apart like this?"
"Please," Poe chokes, "Rey, I, please, please," and begging gets another slap. His face feels hot and there's maybe a bruise on his cheekbone that Rey catches every time now, the fine bones of her hand against the bones of his face, and this time, when she hits, she follows it with a kiss.
"Come on," she whispers, "you like that, don't you, like that." Finn thrusts hard, harder, rubs his thumb over the head of Poe's cock and squeezes and pushes impossibly even deeper, and Rey hits him again, and everything flares white, Poe being taken to pieces just like they both promised.
It feels like hours before he comes out of it, and when he does, he's boneless with endorphins, sleepy and wordless and dazed. Rey passes him water, makes him drink until he's not thirsty, and then she and Finn pull him in between the two of them, spend long, long minutes stroking fingers gentle through his hair and down his back.
"Thank you," he whispers, later, as they're on the edge of sleep, and Finn kisses his shoulder in the dark, spoons in closer against him. It's Rey who lifts her palm to his cheek, gentle now, and asks.
"Was it what you wanted?"
"Yeah," Poe says, inadequately. "It- yes."
"Tell us, next time," she teases, and Poe thinks, yeah. He will.