[ Poe has no idea, the effect he's having. What he knows is that he likes this version of John, this charming and vulnerable man he's never seen outside of this room. He knows that seeing this vulnerability is fragile and precious and something he'll think about when he's trying to fall asleep.
He's not sure what to feel about that, thinking of someone while he falls asleep.
Poe settles in behind John, rolls his hips to rub his erection across John's crack. Deeper. Guiding his dick into John's hole with one hand, giving the spot another light fingertip touch before he penetrates.
Then he's leaning over John's shoulder, his hand still slick with lube, taking John's cock in hand and gliding his grip from root to tip along with the slow rhythm of his hips. He kisses John's back, one scar, then another.
It seems important, to touch those places. That's where Poe would want to be touched. Each little bit of contact telling him (telling John) that those places don't mean he's broken. Poe feels broken often enough, feels it more and more acutely the longer he's trapped in Riverview. The longer he's away from his purpose, his war. Sometimes he wakes up in the night afraid that he's got nothing left but scars.
He thrusts hard, goes soft again, then hard, then harder. Intervals of gentleness punctuated and slowly replaced by a rough, hard fucking. ]
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He's not sure what to feel about that, thinking of someone while he falls asleep.
Poe settles in behind John, rolls his hips to rub his erection across John's crack. Deeper. Guiding his dick into John's hole with one hand, giving the spot another light fingertip touch before he penetrates.
Then he's leaning over John's shoulder, his hand still slick with lube, taking John's cock in hand and gliding his grip from root to tip along with the slow rhythm of his hips. He kisses John's back, one scar, then another.
It seems important, to touch those places. That's where Poe would want to be touched. Each little bit of contact telling him (telling John) that those places don't mean he's broken. Poe feels broken often enough, feels it more and more acutely the longer he's trapped in Riverview. The longer he's away from his purpose, his war. Sometimes he wakes up in the night afraid that he's got nothing left but scars.
He thrusts hard, goes soft again, then hard, then harder. Intervals of gentleness punctuated and slowly replaced by a rough, hard fucking. ]